《Seer of The Ultimate Prophecy》


 Ch1: The Famous Red Seer

    ¡°Enya! Enyaaa!¡±


    The sound of my name makes me groan in annoyance. ¡®Just five more minutes,¡¯ is what I want to say, but I know better than to argue with my father, the head of the Visperia family. I roll over to my side and sit up.


    Fantastic, my red hair has once again got all tangled up. It¡¯s long; perhaps too long for my tastes, and I¡¯d most rather take a knife to it and cut it short, but Father demands it to stay long.


    ¡°How can you be the Red Seer if you got rid of the hair?¡± he always says while rubbing his greedy palms, ¡°Let them think you were dragon-kissed, Enya! It helps keep up the appearances.¡±


    It¡¯s going to take so long to untangle this mess¡­ so I start, my slender fingers picking up the hairbrush and dutifully untangling the locks.


    I¡¯m not very pretty, I know. The hair is all I got going for me. But dresses, make up, skin ointments¡­ it all costs money. And while living on the road, in a wagon, you cannot really put time or care into it. My father makes me wear a hood over my face, so that my sun-kissed freckles aren¡¯t seen.


    I look out of the wooden cart. My brother and his girlfriend are already setting up the stand. Another village, another lot of clients who all want their fortune to be read by a Niemi, a girl like me. That¡¯s how they call my people. It comes from the old word for ¡®mute¡¯ ¡ª not because we did not speak, but because we did not speak the common tongue. It¡¯s said we are descended from the fae themselves, that we dance at midnight to the sounds of wolf howls, that we do magic¡­


    We don¡¯t, of course. It¡¯s all just superstition.


    ¡°Get it going, Enya,¡± my brother scoffs as he looks at me, ¡°I wish we could all sleep in like you.¡±


    ¡°I was telling fortunes until the dawn,¡± I say.


    He¡¯s so horrible to me, and for no reason! His girlfriend is even worse. Neither of them are a pretty sight; my brother does not share my red hair, but instead has dark brown patches on his head which he shaves, and his wife-to-be is a woman of too much make up and crooked teeth.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, fortunes¡­ you just pick up a few cards and spin some tale,¡± he shrugs. ¡°While we haul you around¡­¡±


    None of them think my fortunes are real. Or maybe they do, but they¡¯re scared. However, deep down I know that the words that come to me when I read the cards are not my own. They¡¯re voices of¡­ I¡¯m not sure what, but whether it¡¯s ghosts or spirits or fey, something has taken notice of me.


    ¡°Put on yer ugly coat,¡± his horrible girlfriend throws a coat on me. It¡¯s almost a caricature of Niemi culture. I¡¯ve seen proper Niemi dresses from my aunt. My mother really made a mistake when she eloped with my crooked father.


    I snatch the robe and put it on. We don¡¯t have a mirror, so I have no idea how I look, but I¡¯m dressed in patched up robes with dozens of jingling bells and hoops.


    Outside, the Sun has risen high. People will start gathering for the fair soon. Which means it¡¯s time to get to work.


    I pull the curtains between my desk and bed, then get out my crystal ball and cards. The ball is generally useless, it¡¯s just for the appearances, but the cards? They are the real deal. Or at least I think so.


    I¡¯ve never found out if any of my fortunes have come true.


    I drag my fingers over the cards. They were the gift from my mother, the only thing she¡¯s left me - aside from the red hair and a star-shaped beauty mark on my neck.


    I light some incense, letting the sweet smell spread around the cart. I inhale deeply. Wild flowers, smoke, sun-kissed weeds¡­ How I yearn for them, to be wild, free! But instead I must stay here. Caged. Paraded around. All because of my gift.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Or a curse. However you wish it.


    ¡°Only five golds per fortune!¡± I can hear my brother yell. He¡¯s ushering curious people to the wagon.


    ¡°Five golds? That¡¯s a steep price,¡± one of the men scoffs. ¡°Others charge two or three!¡±


    ¡°Yes, but this is the famous Red Seer,¡± my father laughs.


    There are whispers and chatter between the villagers. My name travels far.


    ¡°How do we know she¡¯s real?¡± Some woman crosses her arms and spits on the ground. ¡°She could be an impostor, not the real deal!¡±


    ¡°Oh, wait until you see her red hair¡­ and if not, you know that the tales tell of the star-shaped beauty mark¡­¡±


    I hope they don¡¯t make me strip again. They¡¯ve done it a couple of times and it was always horrible.


    ¡°Now, come in, whoever wants to have their fortune read!¡±


    ***


    People rotate. Women come in ¡ª they always want to know about their marriage prospects, about love¡­ they¡¯re mostly peasant women, though sometimes noble ladies come incognito, hooded and cloaked. It always pains me when I have to tell a bad fortune¡­


    ¡­And I used to, but my Father told me to stop.


    ¡°Lie if you have to, Enya,¡± he said, ¡°we have a business to run.¡±


    So when I draw The Tower and The Star for the woman across me, instead of telling her her dreams will be crushed, I say something else. That there is a romance waiting for her.


    Men usually want to know about business and gold. Does it pay off to invest into radishes this year? Will the King hear out their proposals? Basically, it¡¯s lots of the same questions.


    The night drags out. I am worn out and tired, and my head hurts. I am just about to close the cart when¡­


    ¡°Wait, Enya, one more.¡± My brother knocks on my window.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost dawn,¡± I reply, ¡°I¡¯m done here.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a wealthy man.¡±


    Of course. I sigh and roll my eyes, even though I have no more fortunes left in me to tell. I fix my hood and lean back in the seat, waiting to be swept off my feet. So many noble men believe that just their presence is enough to impress me. It¡¯s usually not.


    The curtain moves back and a stranger ducks his head to come inside. I rise my eyebrows.


    He might be the most beautiful man I¡¯d ever seen. What the hell is he doing, getting a Niemi reading? These folks usually get their fortunes from dozens of Seers in the courts. Practically every well-standing castle has their own!


    His hair is long and brown, spotted with golden strands. Not golden hue; but actual gold. His outfit is decked in gemstones, and he wears a tie around his neck pinned with a brilliant amber needle. Long and lean face gives away aura of mystery and¡­ dependability. I immediately know that I¡¯m dealing with an intelligent man and that no fake fortunes will fly.


    He sits across me and smiles.


    His eyes glow in the dark.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re the famous Red Seer,¡± he slowly begins. His voice is calm, it echoes through the night like a melody. ¡°Please, take off your hood. I wish to see you better.¡±


    ¡°The hood stays on,¡± I immediately shoot back. I don¡¯t want him to see my face. It¡¯s not the prettiest face in the world. It¡¯s spotted, freckled, pale and red.


    He simply slides a bag of gemstones towards me.


    ¡°Your Father doesn¡¯t have to know about these. Just take the hood off.¡±


    My hands shake as I take the little sachet. It¡¯s filled with yellow sapphires, amber, beryl, citrine¡­ My breath stops in my throat.


    Now, even more than ever, I don¡¯t want to take it off. I cannot be bought.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want them. The hood stays on.¡±


    He laughs. ¡°Red hair is a sign of feisty nature, indeed¡­¡± He leans closer. Our noses are almost touching. ¡°Please. Indulge me.¡±


    ¡°Not even for all the gold in the world.¡±


    It¡¯s personal.


    He leans back and nods. ¡°Keep the gemstones. I will pay gold for the fortune as well, do not fret.¡±


    I shrug. What a weird man. I quickly pull the sachet and hide it under the desk. Maybe he¡¯s one of those hopeless rich romantics? But it¡¯s foolish; gold won¡¯t change his fate. ¡°I will need your name and date of birth,¡± I say as I shuffle the cards.


    ¡°The name¡¯s Duarte. Date of birth¡­ Golden moon of the First Eon of the Old Era.¡±


    I blink. And then laugh.


    ¡°Is this a jest?¡± I ask. ¡°First Eon of the Old Era? That was thousands and thousands years ago. Impossible. Your bones would be dust by now.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a joke, Enya.¡± The man leans closer.


    ¡°How do you know my name?¡± My voice is less amused now. Nobody knows my name, except from my family. Maybe he overheard it while my stupid brother was yelling for the entire village to hear. ¡°Get out. I won¡¯t be intimidated.¡±


    ¡°Ah, sorry. Or do you prefer Anisezya?¡±


    Our eyes lock. My heart is beating hundred times in a minute. ¡°W-what?¡± I feel dizzy all of a sudden. I grab on the table, my knuckles whitening.


    ¡°Apologies. I thought you¡¯d prefer your Niemi name.¡±


    Nobody except you and your mother, and the Niemi knows your Niemi name. It¡¯s for the mute ones, not for the ones of the common tongue. I¡¯ve never even uttered mine out loud; I¡¯ve never felt it belonged to me, like I had any rights. My father, my brother, his rat-like girlfriend¡­ they don¡¯t know it. The mysterious stranger couldn¡¯t have traded gold for this knowledge.


    Everything in me screams to run. But I stay still, sitting there. His eyes shine for a second, so cat-like in their nature.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I ask, my voice trembling.


    He just slickly smiles.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you read my fortune and tell me?¡±

 Ch2: Contract of Convenience

    There is nothing to be done except¡­ tell the fortune to the mysterious stranger. My hands shake as I pick up the oracle cards and start shuffling them. I am sweating under his intense gaze, thankful for the protection of the hood. I don¡¯t want to meet him eye to eye.


    ¡°Well then? What do my cards say?¡± he says gently, as if apologizing for scaring me just now. But I don¡¯t trust him in the slightest. My trembling fingers flip the first card.


    Dragon of the Gold.


    I pull the second card.


    Ace of Gemstones.


    And at last, the third.


    The Ancient World.


    Of course, all of this is up for interpretation. But no cards are reversed, and I¡¯d be a blind fool if I lied to myself just now. I¡¯m sitting in front of an actual, real, Lord of Gold and Gemstones. The great Itzamatul, as His name is. The great Dragon of the Earth.


    I shiver and flinch as I stare into his golden, snake-like eyes. ¡°This cannot be real,¡± I whisper. He leans forward to tip my hood back and I let him, too scared to fight it. Besides, it would be an offense to deny him, now that I knew his true identity.


    My hood slips back, revealing my freckled face.


    He purrs in approval. ¡°The tales speak of a beauty¡­ kissed by Sun.¡± He drags a hand ¡ª with suspiciously sharp nails, resembling claws ¡ª over my cheek. ¡°And you¡¯re like a piece of coal. You simply need the proper surroundings to turn into a diamond.¡±


    So he¡¯s calling me ugly. I sniffle and move his hand away. ¡°Do you want to insult me or to hear the fortune?¡± I speak with bravado even though my voice is trembling. What kind of fortune would the Gemstone Lord even want from me?


    He lets me go and leans back. ¡°I¡¯d like to hear about the Fate.¡±


    In the end, everyone¡¯s beholden to it. It does not matter if you¡¯re a peasant or a Dragon Lord; Fate still has you in her shackles. I can see that he¡¯s treating me with respect because I am one of the Fate¡¯s Beloved Ones, as some call us. The priestesses and messengers of the Lady Fate who rules over all the same.


    There are a few important ladies. Lady Fate, Lady Luck, and Lady Time are the three most important ones. And they spare nobody. A king can become a leper, and a leper can become a king, depending on the will of these three dames.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    And the Dragon Lord in front of me knows that as well. How odd. It¡¯s actually me who¡­ has the upper hand in this situation.


    I look at the crystal ball. It¡¯s just for decorum, it doesn¡¯t really do much, but sometimes Fate allows me to see glimpses in it. I feel drawn to it. I place my fingers on it and¡­


    I am transported into a vision immediately. A vivid and booming one¡ª something like this has never happened before! I gasp and steady myself, feeling everything around me move so fast, rapidly, as my lungs try to battle for air.


    Still images start flashing through my head.


    But instead of the Dragon Lord I see¡­


    Myself.


    I am standing in the middle of a beautiful Court decorated with jewels and glistening gems ¡ª and my attire matches it as well. I see Itzamatul in front of me, smiling, reaching his hand towards mine¡­ But then the image changes, and I see myself in a common room with plenty of other women; another change, I see dozens of faces flash around me¡­ It seems that Fate is unstable, changing, and this has never happened before.


    It¡¯s too much to experience. I scream and let go of the ball, as if it was burnt.


    Duarte ¡ª as he goes in his human form ¡ª expectantly stares at me. ¡°What did you see?¡±


    ¡°I am sorry, great Lord,¡± I bow my head, ¡°I saw my future. Not yours.¡±


    ¡°And was I in your future?¡± His voice is calm, grounding.


    I swallow and nod.


    He hums and closes his eyes, then opens them again, intently looking at me. ¡°Then I don¡¯t believe you have any choice, if the Fate has decided it so.¡± He reaches forward and touches my hand. ¡°I could make you a very happy woman.¡±


    ¡°As a Seer of your Court?¡± I gasp.


    He is about to say something, then just laughs, as if I misunderstood something.


    ¡°As my wife,¡± he cocks his head, ¡°if you so will it.¡±


    I stare at him in shock. As his¡­ wife?


    He pulls out another sachet of gemstones. ¡°I promise you¡¯d never lack anything.¡±


    I burst out laughing. Am I really getting courted right now? A marriage? Insane. I stare at him wide-eyed.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to decide immediately. But come with me to the Court of Gold and Gemstones, and decide for yourself.¡± He takes the three cards ¡ª his cards ¡ª and turns them towards me. ¡°We will sign a contract, if it makes you feel at ease.¡±


    Ah yes. The famous Lord of Gold¡­ and his contracts.


    I weigh out my options. This is dangerous, the most danger I¡¯ve ever been in. There is something untrustworthy about him, despite his calm and professional demeanor. But I look around the wagon ¡ª what is there for me, left here? More abuse? More nasty and horrible words?


    ¡®Always be careful with dragons,¡¯ is what the tales tell. Warn of, more precisely. They¡¯re smart, they¡¯re crafty, they do not have your best interests at heart.


    ¡°Craft the contract,¡± I say at last, and return his gaze. ¡°I want it to be fair and bring me no harm, in case I turn down your courtship.¡±


    Duarte smiles and nods. He snaps his fingers and suddenly, a parchment of paper appears in the air. The words start writing themselves.


    The Binding Accord Between Enya, Seer of Fates, and Itzamatul, Lord of Gold and Gemstones This document serves as a formal agreement between Enya, a seer known for her gift of foresight, and Itzamatul, Lord of Gold and Gemstones. The terms outlined below define the mutual understanding of both parties.


    I skim through the contract. Offer of dowry as a sign of respect, offer of protection¡­ and the contract can be ended if both parties agree. It seems all good to me.


    I take my feather and ink, then look at him.


    Enya Visperia, I sign.

 Ch3: Golden Touch

    Duarte watched me sign my name with a light smile. It was a game of chess we were playing; both parties have just begun the game and we were still setting up the board. The true game was only to follow.


    I might not be the most beautiful maiden in the world, but I¡¯m certainly not stupid. I know that I¡¯m playing with the fire; that my opponent is far better equipped for this battle than I am. The contract doesn¡¯t give me much of a sense of security, but what else is there to do? To stay here and be scoffed at and paraded around? Humiliated by my father and brother and that witch he¡¯s set to marry?


    ¡°My carriage is just outside,¡± he says as he rises from his seat, his tall figure too large for my modest wagon.


    ¡°Wait, what about my things?¡± I blink.


    He just laughs and looks around. ¡°Wood, moth-eaten clothes¡­ dear Anisezya, what is there to take from here?¡±


    I frown and purse my lips. What if he doesn¡¯t lead up on his promise, what if he leaves me naked and stranded? But as if sensing my thoughts, he just taps the contract parchment. Suddenly, it doubles - another parchment poofs into the existence. He passes it to me.


    ¡°All parties need the contract. Just as I can hold you liable for breaking yours, you can hold me liable for breaking mine. The jurisdiction it takes place under is Celestial Heavens, so have no fear.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t dragons hail directly from Celestia?¡± I ask in a suspicious tone. ¡°I feel like you have an advantage over me.¡± I do not know much about law, especially Heavenly one¡­ It¡¯s unfair to play a game you don¡¯t even know the rules to.


    ¡°We do. But so do Niemi.¡± He opens the wagon door. ¡°Regardless, the Heavenly Law is the purest one there is, and I do not rule over it. The judge appointed by Heavens is Lord Coszcatl, and trust me, she does not fancy me. You will find no unfair advantage or disadvantage in the court.¡±


    Then he looks at me, straight into eyes. He has cat-like eyes, and I can see their shine even with the modest candle light. ¡°But I see no reason why things would even need to end up there. I believe all parties can play fair and equal. Do you disagree?¡±


    I shake my head. Still, there¡¯s no free lunch, and I know something must be amiss. He seems very confident, and nobody is confident without an ace up their sleeve. But I must make a decision.


    As I said, I¡¯m not stupid. Whatever waits for me¡­ is better than what I have.


    I take his hand.


    His touch is warm as he helps me rise from my seat and leads me outside. I am short; I don¡¯t have to duck, the way he does.


    ¡°Enya? Fucking finally, what¡¯s the hold up?¡± I immediately hear my father¡¯s annoyed voice. He¡¯s cleaning up the stand and is pissed off that it¡¯s not me doing it instead. Then he takes notice of Duarte and his golden ornaments, decking up his uniform, and bows. ¡°Ah, Lord! I hope you were¡­ pleased with her.¡±


    My cheeks burn red, the implication obvious in his voice.


    Duarte ¡ª or well, Itzamatul ¡ª just makes a displeased grimace and tightens his hold on my hand. ¡°I am a gentleman, sir.¡± His voice turns cold.


    My brother is the next to take notice of our locked hands, my small one secured with his long, sleek fingers.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Hang on¡­ what¡¯s going on?¡± he asks as Itzamatul leads me down the few wooden steps of the cart. ¡°What the fuck are you doing, Enya?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Lady Enya from now on,¡± I rise my nose and snort. Then I turn to Itzamatul and wink. There is a slight smile dancing on his lips as he catches on the little game I want to play. ¡°And I think that you¡¯ll have to address me as such. You see, dear brother, I just got an offer of a lifetime.¡±


    My brother stares in shock. Then his lips twist into an ugly sneer. ¡°Lady? Enya, get back into the wagon.¡±


    ¡°So  much about being a gentleman,¡± my father hisses and approaches us. Itzamatul stands tall and certain as the smaller man approaches him. ¡°You cannot have her. Is this it, Enya? What did he offer you? Being a court seer? Oh yes, I know the likes of him. It must be some fortune you¡¯ve told.¡±


    Again, implication in his voice and the mockery say that he thinks I did much more than just tell the fortune. I turn my head away.


    Itzamatul just smiles, ever so patiently and graciously. ¡°May your touch be forever golden, Sir.¡± He bows to my father and tugs my hand. ¡°I believe that¡¯s a fair deal for your daughter.¡±


    My father looks at him, puzzled. ¡°A blessing? Oh no, if she is to leave, I expect money, gold, fortune! Allard, get him!¡± he yells to my brother who takes a fighting stance. My father grabs his shovel, ready to deliver a swift hit to my new Master¡¯s head.


    But the moment he does¡­


    The change is gradual. First, the wooden handle starts changing its color from the end; the new golden layer travels up and up, to my father¡¯s fingers, as he stares at the change in front of him in shock.


    ¡°What the¡­?¡±


    My eyes go wide. Golden. He will literally, forever, have a golden touch. I turn my head to Itzamatul who just gives a wicked smirk. ¡°Shhh. It¡¯s as much blessing as it is a curse.¡±


    ¡°G-golden touch!¡± my father yells in awe as he runs over to the wagon and touches one of the wheels. Soon, the wood started changing color, going from brown to deep, shining gold. Seconds later we are standing in front of a shining carriage.


    Still, shit covered in gold is still shit.


    ¡°You may have her,¡± my father says dismissively. ¡°Allard,¡± he calls to my brother, ¡°we will be rich! Forever!¡±


    I watch them all greedily smile at each other. And just like that, I¡¯m forever forgotten.


    While they¡¯re distracted my new Master ushers me towards the woods, to his carriage.


    ¡°My ride is just a bit away. I did not want to cause any jealousy.¡± His tone is mocking.


    I know that dragons do not care for mortals. They see us as puny little things with short lives. To them, we are nothing more than ants. Then why is this one taking interest in me?


    I stop before the carriage.


    It¡¯s as imposing and breath-taking as his flashy uniform. Decked in gemstones and opals, it shines under the moonlight. Intricate design and carving make the entire chariot look so dream-like¡­ like a dream I could wake up from, any moment now. I squeeze his hand.


    In front of it, two beautiful mares stand, their blue and golden hair decorated with rubies and sapphires, the sachets on their backs glistening with diamonds and amber.


    ¡°I told you. You¡¯d never lack anything,¡± he motions for me to enter as the door opens. With his help I climb in and take a seat on the velvet plush bench. I drag my fingers over it. I¡¯d only heard of fabrics like these, never seen ¡ª let alone touched ¡ª one myself.


    ¡°Still? Isn¡¯t golden touch a reward for his horrible behavior?¡± I frown. ¡°He is not a good man.¡±


    ¡°You see, Anisezya¡­¡±


    ¡°Please, it¡¯s Enya.¡±


    ¡°I am above all a very practical man, less concerned with rewards and punishments, unless they serve a purpose. It¡¯s a price for peace. Do you really want to argue with him? Have him cause a scene with his sullied behavior?¡±


    I tighten my lips. Yes, actually, I¡¯d like to see him suffer.


    ¡°And besides¡­ just wait for him to try and eat something,¡± Itzamatul laughs. ¡°Everything he touches turns to gold, no?¡±


    Ah. I realize in that moment. All fruit, all food he eats¡­ will become golden too. What a cruel and fun twist. I chuckle a bit, covering my mouth like a proper lady¡­ I¡¯m really settling into the role! ¡°I see.¡±


    He will have to be hand-fed by others forever.


    ¡°Rich! We are rich, you two slugs!¡± I hear my father running around and yelling. Oh, what fate awaits him¡­ And he still hasn¡¯t figured it out.


    But I also realize something else. Every gift from this man might as well be a trap. Under my brows, I study him; his sharp features, his poised and cold demeanor. Professional. As expected from the Lord of Contracts.


    But I have something in my pocket. An ace up my sleeve.


    However? I still don¡¯t know what it is.

 Ch4: Just Bitter Nonsense

    The journey doesn¡¯t take long. Through the window I watch the forest bathed in night, illuminated by the moonshine that scatters over the pine branches. Dragonia¡­ a place supposedly in the sky, a beautiful and radiant place full of clouds!


    ¡°Are we almost there?¡± I ask, impatient to leave the human lands behind. Impatient to get out of these horrible clothes and into something more fitting to my new status.


    ¡°Just a bit more,¡± Itzamatul says and leans forward, then taps the window of the carriage. ¡°Dearest Opal and Lapis¡­¡± he speaks to the horses, ¡°please, spread your wings.¡±


    Wings? I lean through the window¡­ The transformation is fast, but to me it seems so slow and gradual, my eyes thirstily drinking in every detail. The horses shrink in size, their hooves stretching out until they become claws - radiant and shining, just like the gemstones their names represent. The mane gets shorter as it makes way for wings to spring between their shoulders ¡ª large, bat-like ones, shimmering and glistening in the sky that¡¯s gradually becoming lighter and lighter.


    Dragons! Small, lithe and long dragons!


    Opal and Lapis playfully chuff at each other, like kittens, and suddenly - we are being dragged up the tall mountain. A huge smile pops up on my face ¡ª how exciting! I scream in joy as I feel wind in my hair. I¡¯ve never gone this fast!


    Itzamatul looks at me with a light, gentle smile, with fondness. I pretend not to notice. Money, after all, does not a marriage make.


    ¡°You look lovely when you laugh,¡± he says.


    For a second, I believe him, even if I know my teeth are crooked, and that I¡¯m no dame. But I¡¯m too excited to care right now.


    We make our way up a steep mountain. I gasp in awe ¡ª clouds surround us, but not like fog ¡ª they¡¯re golden and pink, yellow hues mixing beautifully with a tint of orange. A few ibises fly around us. I know it¡¯s impossible and they shouldn¡¯t be this high, but they¡¯re all wearing necklaces made of coins. I put my hand on the window, as if trying to touch them.


    Itzamatul seems satisfied with my reaction. But how else is a girl like me, who¡¯s grown up in poverty, supposed to react? I am smitten.


    I can see the top of the mountain as Opal and Lapis drag us up. But nothing prepares me for the sight that follows.


    The palace stands atop of the mountain like a sight from a fairytale. It¡¯s not big ¡ª it¡¯s huge. While it isn¡¯t tall like the castles with sky-high towers I¡¯ve seen during my travels, having what I can count are only two floors, it¡¯s wide and lengthy. Dark wooden roof ¡ª seemingly made from oak ¡ª stands atop decorated columns. Golden ornaments are scattered over the facade, and I can see they¡¯re work of a master craftsman, made by hands that were certainly not those of ordinary humans. Yes, I¡¯ve met human craftsmen, yes, I¡¯ve seen shining jewelry with intricate details, but nothing could compare to this.


    In front the palace rises a huge fountain. Dozens of ibises stand around it, going on about their bird business, not paying attention to us. Even with all the noise the carriage is making they do not startle or fly away. Couple of smaller fountains are set around the larger ones in a lush garden that¡¯s properly cut and weeded, flowers blooming even in the middle of winter. In fact, it¡¯s warm here ¡ª and once again, it defies logic. Shouldn¡¯t it be much colder than down, under the mountain? But the weather is pleasant and lovely, light sun kissing my skin through the window.


    Dozens of lamps decorate the pathways through the garden, made in forms of lotus flowers. I can see jade sculptures standing in eternal dances they lead.


    I have never been more awe-struck.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ beautiful,¡± I whisper as my fingers touch the window glass, my body wanting to get out as soon as possible. Then I turn to my new Master. ¡°I¡¯d think the Lord of Gemstones would live underground, though.¡±


    He shakes his head. ¡°That realm belongs to the Master of Thousand Deaths, Xac-Hapikern. And I always hated dampness and darkness of his horrid realm,¡± he scoffs mockingly. ¡°I am a man of finery.¡±


    He motions around us. ¡°Isn¡¯t this much lovelier than some cave in the belly of the Earth?¡±


    I must agree with him. It really is.


    The carriage comes to a halt and he exits first, then opens the door for me and gives me his hand to help me out. I accept it, feeling warm. Nobody¡¯s ever opened the door for me.


    ¡°Please, after you, Anisezya.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°I prefer Enya,¡± I say. The Niemi name¡­ it is mine, yes, but it doesn¡¯t feel as such. It feels foreign.


    He nods. ¡°I¡¯ll respect that.¡±


    Dozen of ibises gather in front of us and begin dancing, their feathers fluttering in the light breeze. They seem quite choreographed, moving in the same rhythm, shaking their wings and tails, forming a beautiful dance. I gasp and clap.


    Then, they still, and one approaches me. He bows and leans forward.


    ¡°Put your hand out,¡± Itzamatul instructs me.


    I obey. The ibis, with its beak, gently places a shining diamond necklace in my open palm. I am stunned.


    ¡°Allow me,¡± Itzamatul says as he takes the necklace. I crane my back and move my lush hair out of the way as he ties it around my neck.


    Oh I cannot wait to see what it looks like¡­! My eyes are glistening like a child¡¯s as I rush to the fountain to look at my reflection. I¡¯d never consider myself vain¡­ but I am just a woman, after all.


    I cannot believe my reflection. Even my ugly face looks more beautiful with finery decorating it.


    ¡°Satisfied?¡± he asks with a light smirk as he joins me. I enthusiastically nod. I indeed am.


    ¡°Alright. Allow me to lead you to your chambers and give you a tour.¡± He takes my hand and gently pulls me away from my reflection. ¡°Since you don¡¯t need to unpack¡­¡±


    I don¡¯t. The only things I¡¯ve brought are my crystal ball and the pack of tarot cards. I have no other possessions. Nothing was mine in that wagon. Not even my life.


    I let him lead me towards the tall columns that support the roof. Each of them is made from white marble, decorated with intricate carvings. I stop and admire them for a second.


    ¡°What do the pictures tell?¡± I ask as I point at the relief showing a grand battle.


    ¡°Ah,¡± my new Master hums, ¡°they depict my victories in the great Dragon War.¡±


    Indeed, the carvings show the enemies being slain by Itzamatul; sometimes in his dragon form, sometimes as Duarte, a man wielding a shining spear. There are more dragons on the columns ¡ª allies and foes, all waging a great battle.


    ¡°And losses?¡± I laugh.


    ¡°Have you ever seen anyone depict their losses?¡± Itzamatul chuckles and bops my nose with a finger. ¡°You¡¯re not that naive, Enya. Dark stains on the clothes must be washed out for them to be pristine and beautiful.¡±


    I¡¯d call him a liar, but I¡¯m not even sure if he¡¯s telling lies. He certainly cares for his image. He¡¯s twisting it. But, who doesn¡¯t? I¡¯d gladly paint over all the dark stains on my record with beautiful white paint if I could, make it clean and pristine, let it shine. Perhaps it is vain, perhaps it would make for a lie¡­ but oh, who cares?


    ¡°And speaking of stains¡­¡± He motions at my outfit.


    My mood dampens a bit as I peel eyes off the necklace around my neck and take a better look. This awful thing looks horrid and unkempt.


    ¡°Do not despair. I have someone who could help.¡± Itzamatul puts his hand on my back and leads me towards the large entrance of the palace. In front of it, like two gongs, two large coins stand. ¡°My own seamstress, in fact.¡±


    I cannot believe I¡¯ll be dressed by Lord of Gemstone¡¯s own seamstress. I pinch myself to make sure I¡¯m not dreaming.


    ¡°Now, please¡­¡± Itzamatul gently pushes me forward.


    I flinch as I hear a shriek echoing down the hall.


    ¡°How dare you?! Do you know who I am?!¡±


    ¡°Contessa, please!¡± Another voice joins in. There are rushed footsteps.


    ¡°I am the Seer of Gems, the One Chosen of the Lapis Lord, Seer of Aurea Palace! Madame Garnet, and I shall not be replaced¡ª especially by some villager hilly-billy girl!¡± More shrieks. I instinctively move behind Itzamatul and grab on him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fret,¡± my new Master mumbles.


    Behind the wall runs out a woman in her forties, silk scarf waving behind her as she marches forward, like she¡¯s on a mission with a license to kill. Her eyes open in surprise as she sees Itzamatul, but instead of stopping, she just charges forward even more. Her hair is curly and dark, reaching to her curvy waist, and her face is red from anger. She stops in front of us, catching her breath.


    ¡°I was told to evacuate my rooms! I demand an explanation!¡± she yells and points a finger at the Dragon Lord, who stands unphased.


    ¡°It¡¯s simple. I don¡¯t see why we would need more Seers than necessary.¡± Itzamatul shrugs. I am in awe at how calm he is. ¡°Madame Garnet, perhaps it¡¯s time for you to find other employment. I am sure there are many other establishments that need your services.¡±


    Madame Garnet cranes her neck to look at me. She is almost frothing at the mouth. ¡°Is this her? The whore you¡¯ve brought?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s keep this civilized,¡± Itzamatul cuts her off.


    It doesn¡¯t seem to help as she scoffs and laughs at me. ¡°I see demise in your future, little girl. I see darkness and you being swallowed by shadows. You will not stay at this place, that¡¯s for sure.¡± Then she looks at Itzamatul and laughs harder. ¡°You¡¯re putting your money in a ship that will sink, my Lord. Reconsider it.¡±


    ¡°Evacuate the premises at once.¡± Itzamatul¡¯s eyes darken as he takes my hand. ¡°We could¡¯ve kept this fair and amicable. I could¡¯ve found you a good place, different place.¡±


    ¡°Surely you must be some Seer if you couldn¡¯t even predict this?¡± I rise my eyebrows.


    Madame Garnet hisses like a cat and tightens her fists.  Then she pushes between us and storms towards the door.


    ¡°I am cursing you both,¡± she stops and turns to us with hatred in her eyes. ¡°You will both live to claw your own skins off and lose everything you¡¯ve ever held dear.¡±


    With that, she pulls the door open and slams them behind herself, causing the hall to shake, and one of the statues to fall down and break.


    Itzamatul deeply sighs.


    ¡°Do not mind her,¡± he casually says as he leads me forward, ¡°she is upset, understandably so.¡±


    ¡°What about the curse?¡± My voice is tinted with worry.


    ¡°Well, you are a Niemi. And I am a Dragon Lord. Do you think an ordinary Seer could curse either of us?¡± He laughs. ¡°Enya, have some more faith. She is nobody. Her fortunes have been¡­ sub-par. In fact, she told me my Seer will be a man, not a woman, and that I will find him at Raven¡¯s Point. I searched the entire mountain, and I found no signs of life.¡±


    Still, I worry. Maybe she was right. Maybe I¡¯m not the Seer, and maybe all of this will be taken away from me very soon¡­


    No. I cannot allow that to happen.


    I only now got a taste of the life I want. Life I dreamed of.


    ¡°She is just telling nonsense,¡± I smile. ¡°Bitter nonsense, my Lord.¡±