Chapter 6: Divination and Oblivion

A violet tent sat deeper into the forest. A woman in violet garb was occupied counting her bag of doubloons. As soon as she saw the duo, she swiped its contents back into the bag, slid it inside her chest and waved at her arriving potential customers.

“Hey, old lady! How’s the business going?” Merlize asked.

“Oh, it’s just you. It’s stiff as usual.” She shrugged with a disgusted look on her face. “What do you brats want?”

Larson touched the tip of his sword’s handle. “Should I slice her head off?”

“Chill, man.” Merlize pressed her palm against his chest. “You wouldn’t want to stain your sword with this witch’s blood, trust me.”

When Merlize touched his chest, a spark shot Larson’s heart directly. He couldn’t breathe for a moment.

Merlize felt it, too. She took a fleeting glance at Larson and her body burned from within. When their eyes matched, time stood still for both of them. Only whispering breaths crawled out of their lips. Two beating hearts charged each other’s vein.

I couldn’t look away, both of them thought.

“Ahem!” The oracle’s strict, mellow voice broke the trance enveloping them. “Who are you calling a witch? I’m a prognosticator—a diviner! I’m not interested in forbidden dark arts.”

“Ah!” Merlize squeaked resembling the sound of a startled cat before returning her attention to the oracle.

“Ugh, youth is so overrated. Follow me into my tent.” The oracle rolled her eyes with Merlize tailing behind her.

Larson came to and looked at the tent. Gray and purple formed its exterior with a red flag pinned at its summit. Is living in the forest becoming trend nowadays? He shook away the thought and went inside.

The two youths sat at the bean couches before the Oracle of the First Dawn of the Sun. She flitted her fingers around the shining crystal ball. When Merlize opened her mouth and Larson raised his hand, the oracle glared at them.

“Don’t say anything.” She hushed her visitors. “I know what you need.”

The oracle closed her violet eyes. After a long moment of silence, her rounded body convulsed in her seat. The two leaned in to help, but the oracle regained her composure.

“Head to the hidden land of Ragnaheim.” She gasped. “You will find what you seek there.”

“How do we get there?” Larson asked.

“Ugh, do I have to spoon-feed everything? Fine.” The oracle snorted. “Edwin! Come here, you slouch!”

From under the violet mantle of her table, a small person with a braided beard and wearing a jump suit emerged. He was about the size of a teacup.

“What is it, madame?” He croaked.

She ordered him. “Guide these children to your homeland.”

“But madame, today marks the Festival of Colors.” Edwin stood behind the crystal ball, his back facing the visitors. “I’m sure the Dwarven Elder has his hands full.”

“What of it? Are you saying that you can’t?” The oracle’s hounding voice, shook the dwarf from his soles.

“N-no, madame. Can you lend me some Mystic Essence?” He pressed his hands together.

The oracle produced a marble-sized purplish-violet light from under her violet robe. Merlize and Larson stared it with glistening eyes until it landed on the dwarf’s tiny palm.

“Don’t overuse it or you’ll break our contract.” She warned him. “And don’t forget to collect payment from these children or you’re getting the whip.”

“Y-yes, madame. Th-thank you.” He leapt from the table to Larson’s crimson plate shoulders. “We should be on our way to the Bearded Bridge, boy.”

“Uhm… okay?” Larson chuckled and stood up. “Thank you, miss…?”

“Janice Weatherknots.” The oracle replied.

“Nice one, old lady.” Merlize smirked. “We should get going then. See ya around.”

The wind blew behind Larson’s neck as he turned to the exit.

“Wait up, boy. What’s that on your nape?” The oracle pointed out.

The boy spun back to the violet-coated woman. His black eyes staring blank at the woman calling to him.

“Hmm… Nevermind.” She shrugged. “Nice pendant you have there.”

Larson touched the black orb hanging on his neck. “Uhh… thanks, I guess?”

“Now, get out of here, brats!” She shooed them away.

Edwin led the Merlize and Larson out of the woods and into a busy town of stone and gold. Cinnamon and garlic filled the air from a nearby bakery. Sellers hollered at the passersby who sported elegant formal clothing. Each citizen had either a brooch or necklace shining a ruby stone.

“Come ye, come ye! My bag contains rarities from different parts of the world.” A fit old man, wearing a miner’s clothing, announced. “You, sir!”

“Me?” Larson stopped.

“Would you like to look at my merchandise?” He opened his boulder-sized brown bag to them. “All at fifty percent!”

“What should I be looking at?” Merlize’s ocean eyes gazed into it.

“Look deeper. You are bound to see what your heart so desires.” He assured her and gestured to Larson. “Come, sir, have a look.”

As Larson leaned in closer, the merchant flicked away Edwin who had been screaming at Larson’s shoulders. His voice drowned among the crowd as he fell off his shoulders. Large shoes almost swatted his tiny body if not for his quick reflexes.

As with Merlize, Larson’s eyes fixed on the abyss contained within the bag. The merchant closed his bag and swept her away from her friends and into the crowd. After breaking from the enchantment, Larson twisted his head for his partner and guide.

“Edwin? Merlize?” He brushed through the crowd, but cold stares met him in response.

Edwin has been swept away by human shoes. Adrenaline pumped Larson’s legs as he drew his eyes beneath his feet in an effort to find their dwarven guide, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Edwin? Can you hear me?”

No answer.

“Do you need some help in finding your friends?” A dark voice echoed from the pits of his stomach.

No, Larson, ignore the voice. It’s not real, it’s not real… Larson assured himself.

The voice laughed, “I’m lending my assistance for free and this is how you treat me?”

Larson scowled at the wind. “What do you want?”

“I will only borrow your body for a moment.” An assurance from the beast within.

Larson froze at the center of town among the bustling crowd upon hearing those sinister words.