G H O S T L Y

            What an odd one he was, shrouded in a cloud that Inneia couldn’t quite pinpoint. Danger and evil seemed to cling to him like a tick but the man himself didn’t seem all that evil. It was rather like a shadow, malice following him in his every step and it confused her more than answered any of her question. What surprised her more was that he lingered still after his reading was done. ❛ This city has a habit of circling the same people back together. ❜ She muttered quietly, glancing aside at the crowd of people moving about.  ❛ So I’m sure we’ll see each other again in one way or another, Yulan. I run a magic shop two blocks from here if you ever feel like we haven’t seen each other in a while. ❜

           Hours passed and what was left of his old limbs had long burned into cinders and bones. The bonfire was no longer that in the back yard, but rather a small flame that Mark contained in a circle of stones, feeding onto it every now and then to keep it alive. By morning any evidence of Yulan’s murder would be long gone. In his wait he had prepared a fresh set of clothing for Yulan on the coffee table before the couch and when the man woke up, Mark was seated in an arm chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand and his phone in the other, looking up the moment he heard the other grumble.  ❛ Changed my mind. You owe me twice for this one. ❜

         He set out immediately after receiving the last pair of texts, though it took him a while before he found the exact alley Yulan meant. A lesser person would have turned at the very smell of fresh blood that welcomed him but Mark had expected as much from Yulan. He wasn’t surprised to find him dead already by the time he reached him, he was, however, surprised to find him in pieces.  ❛ Fantastic. ❜ He muttered, running  a hand through his hair and turning back from the alley. Half an hour later he returned with a half beaten down pick up truck ( and if the missing plates weren’t indication enough that it was stolen, the broken window and the crowbar certainly were ) and began collecting what was left of Yulan. With surprising gentle care, he placed all of him at the back seat of the pick up truck and grabbed the barrel of water from the back and washed the alley of the blood. Before setting off for his old house, he texted Adrian, arriving at the suburbs not half an hour later. Yulan was once more carried with care into the house where he laid him down on the sofa before setting to the back yard where he began arranging wood into a bonfire for the rest of his limbs.

             ❛ Not at all. ❜ She responded, placing her cards back at the edge of the table and smoothing out  the wrinkles on the cloth. Witch burning was still a topic that struck her with nausea. There had been a period of time where fire struck fear in her veins, when the very symbol of her holiday had her spiraling into panic but these days, fire grew into comfort once more. It was the smell of burning flesh that got her, really.  ❛ Anyway, it was a pleasure reading for you. Name’s Inneia. ❜

            She had worried. His cards weren’t good and nothing she spoke of was flattering and more often than not they left with their own thoughts thrown at her. The words she got in turn, while threatening to her personally, were nothing short of relieving and she smiled as she snatched the cards off the table.  ❛ People stopped believing in witches, thankfully. ❜ She answered in turn; and as tragic as the loss of her craft was, she was glad that the collective majority of the world decided witches were frauds. It made life much easier.  ❛ Or people realized how inhumane it all was. I suspect it will all be back in a couple of centuries, it’s usually the case. ❜

             ❛ Yeah, I can see the Tower’s influences here. ❜ She peered back at the cards with mild curiosity. They were quite something to piece together, and without additional minor arcana cards to paint the picture for her, Inneia had to grow rather literal. The Devil was him, that one was rather obvious to her but it was the combination of the other three that boggled her, specifically since the World seemed to be surrounded by such negativity, such delusions.  ❛ Clearly you had everything you needed to turn your life into completion. ❜ She began, resting her elbows onto the table and propping her chin on her threaded fingers.  ❛ You had the opportunity, the time was right as was the place but you didn’t really believe it. Your lack of faith in the world and in yourself caused you to spiral back to the very beginning. It’s a never ending cycle; you constantly cling to the negativeness in your life, you don’t do anything to shake your addiction of self sabotage and you are your own undoing. You bury all that shit and then you wonder why every aspect of your life turns to shit. ❜

            ❛ Mhm. And you know what kind of reading you want, too. ❜ A smirk curved her lips at his blatant lie but Inneia, after centuries of being burned ( sometimes literally ) over her curiosity, knew when to not stick her nose where it didn’t belong. Still, her eyes remained firmly on the cards and when the Devil card fell out of the deck, she hummed, surprised and set it to the side of the table. Taking the deck back into her hands, she split it into three piles in front of her and drew a card from the top of each. The Star, reversed, the World and the Moon, like wise reversed stared back at her. Inneia blinked in surprise and drew the Devil card above the three, looking up at the stranger with a raised eyebrow.  ❛ Seen this cards often, then?  ❜

           She was not worried about the cards; they were of course, not the first deck she’s had and certainly not the last. But so many of the modern witches she met these days revered the cards as something holy, as what brought the message rather than the tool they were. Still, she watched with a keen eye as the man shuffled her deck, her eyes following his hands with interest and while he shuffled, she heard herself asking:  ❛ You’re familiar with the cards, aren’t you? ❜ It was the confidence with which he handled them that had her ask the such as most her customers that were unfamiliar with them looked at them with a sense of awe and giddiness. Patiently, she waited until he was done shuffling.

            The old witch smiled and picked up a worn and old looking set of tarot cards from her side and while their colour was fading, the images still stood out vastly and uniquely from any other – perhaps it was time she touched up on it. Without hesitation, she looked the stranger over; his red attire would have caught her attention regardless of what she was doing, she decided, and yet the stranger didn’t really seem like the type top drag attention to himself. She handed the deck over to him.  ❛ Shuffle it for me, please. Just spread the cards on the table and move them around. ❜

              Inneia smiled politely and pointed at the chair opposite of her. There was a table between them covered with a dark, silken cloth with various symbols sown into the fabric.  ❛ I think I’ll manage, the cards don’t exactly give out the gory details. ❜ Not that she thought him to be particularly gory. Mortals tended to be entirely too dramatic for their own good.  ❛ Have a seat. ❜

            ❛ I don’t suppose I can interest you in a free-of-charge tarot reading? ❜