The Future Told Through Cards

“This is… what I’ve come to believe with all my heart after all these years," Mava said, shuffling. “In the face of such a grim future, I’ll ask the question. I’ve never had a more specific query. I’ve never had a future I was so invested in seeing defeated. My question will be clear.”

The lamp crackled nearby. Otlan had been listening in silence from his seat, half in shadow. Now, slowly, he stood and walked over, his feet barely making a sound on the floor.

“We will know the nature of this future that awaits us. Can it be changed? Can you, Timaeus, do anything to change it?”

Mava didn't look at Otlan. Her focus was on the cards.

“There are six cards that would be good to draw… But I believe,” she said softly, “that love is the strongest force in this world. Stronger than hatred, prophecy, and death. I believe it can tear open the seams of what’s ‘meant to be,’ and stitch something new in its place. For that to be true, there are only three cards that can be drawn.”

She touched the top of the deck and nodded once.

“If I am right, then these are the three cards I will draw: The Heartbound Pair, The Lightless Oath, and The Woven Thread.”

Otlan crossed his arms. “Bit ambitious,” he muttered, not quite joking.

“If she pulls it off, though,” I replied, enthralled.

Mava grinned. “I am often ambitious, and I am occasionally right.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and whispered something I couldn’t catch. Then she lifted her hand.

“The cards are here. Our answer is here.”

She placed the deck in front of her with deliberate care.

I didn’t realize how hard my fingers were curling into the chair until I tried to flex them. I wasn’t used to card readings getting to me—maybe because I half-assumed they were showy guesswork or comforting lies. I mean, that’s probably what they were on Earth.

But here? Where were already on the threshold of what I had every reason to believe was the future we were already heading to? Everything I knew about the game made this moment heavier.

Mava’s voice, the magic circulating in her fingers, Otlan standing to watch—it all added to the weight.

Mava and I locked eyes, and then she drew the first card.

“The Heartbound Pair,” she said, and actually laughed from sheer relief.

I pumped my fist. “The first one she bet on.”

“A card of chosen connection, not just romance but devotion across impossible distance. Soul-bonds, not blood-bonds. Truly transcendent.”

Otlan whistled low. Man looked like he was about to pass out from the tension.

“The first step,” she murmured, placing it leftmost. “You are not alone.”

“I’m not alone,” I muttered, fully in now.

The second card followed with a gentle slide.

Her voice was reverent. “The Lightless Oath.”

“The second one,” Otlan whispered.

“A vow made without knowing the cost. Someone makes a promise blindly, but keeps it even when the world darkens around them. It’s a card of foolish courage… an unshakable, maybe even dark will. In the dark, can anyone see what the oathmaker would do?”

I couldn’t breathe.

Mava stared at the card for a moment too long. Then she slowly reached for the third.

“I asked for The Woven Thread,” she said, quieter now. “A card of hope. It would mean fate is already being rewritten. That something is always being woven, a card suggesting that every day, new potentials are strung together.”

She flipped the card.

Mava didn’t speak right away. Otlan leaned forward, squinting. I leaned back, stomach twisting. The card was edged in gold and crimson. A spiraling pattern like a serpent eating its tail, but made of flame and lightning. I didn’t know what it was called, but I didn’t need to. I could already feel it in the room.

Mava exhaled through her nose.

“The Maw of Continuance.”

Otlan swore under his breath.

Mava's face stayed calm, but her voice softened, and the lilt of her earlier confidence was gone. “This card… is not kind. Drawn third, it represents a future that continues regardless of what we throw at it. That spiral—it speaks of inevitability. All events will be drawn toward it.”

“The ending doesn’t change,” I muttered.

She tapped the card once. “This future has weight. And it is clever. It doesn’t always fight openly, but it finds a way back to the same place, again and again.”

I didn’t realize how much I was hoping until I felt it slipping through my fingers.

“So love isn’t enough,” I said.

“No,” Mava said. “Love is enough. That’s what the first two cards say. Love is the best fuel and weapon to confront this future with… But this third card…” She looked me in the eye. “This is the face of love’s opponent.”

Otlan frowned. “Just a load of rubbish. Don’t trouble yourself over this, Mava.”

“Really, old man?” I asked. “She just pulled two out of three and you’re not buying into this?”

“My wife’s had those cards for years,” he replied. “She knows each card by touch, even if she doesn’t know she knows it.”

“Enough!” Mava said, standing up.

Otlan shut up quick—his eyes wide.

She went to a cabinet and returned with cards wrapped in paper and a ribbon. “This is a brand new set,” she said.

“Why’d you have that?” Otlan asked, almost offended.

“Because, you, mister, are a stubborn old coot.” She opened the cards, shuffled them for a little, and placed them on the table. “I’m going to draw the exact three cards. How do I know these cards when I’ve never used them, huh, Otty?”

I activated Mana Vision—poor Otlan. Those fingers were more vibrant than before.

Mava went and drew the same three cards. Then, she went and shuffled them again and drew the same three cards again.

“Is that enough, Otlan? Do you want me to bring out the other new deck I bought?”

“What? No. Here, let me do it—”

“It won’t work! You’re too focused on disproving the cards. It’s going to confuse the question!”

He sighed. “Convenient, isn’t it? Timaeus, you cannot seriously believe her, can you?”

I crossed my arms and looked at the cards on the table. “I think Mava can use some form of magic that lets her divine things, and those cards are the medium by which the magic works.”

Otlan sighed. “Magic’s in the minerals, not in the body.”

“See, here’s the thing. I know you’re wrong.”

“Wha—”

“Frankly, you have no leg to stand on. There’s nothing you can say to me that will ever make me believe you over Mava on this one.”

“Wow. You’ve turned into a real bold brat, haven’t you?” Otlan said with a defeated chuckle.

Mava, however, looked at me with shades of concern. “Are you alright, dear?”

“I’m just taking this seriously…”

“I didn’t say it was hopeless, so don’t look so lost,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks."

“But I did say it wouldn’t be easy. The path ahead… wants to be walked a certain way. If you walk another, it will resent you. And it seems it will try to find a way back to its destination.”

I stared at The Maw of Continuance until the spiral seemed to move.

“But,” Mava said, reaching out and gently placing her hand on The Heartbound Pair, “you’re not walking alone. None of us are. And whether it be the love of two, or the love of many—maybe even this whole city—coming together, there is still a way to save this city.”

My eyes narrowed. Save the city? That wasn’t my goal. I didn’t have such a lofty fancy. No, I just needed to save three.

Mava chuckled. “Is Lady Elsbeth related to the destruction of this city?”

I smirked. “How would I know that?”

“I did not ask about her future here,” Mava kindly replied. “So, if you would like some peace of mind, and you can get her here, I can draw more cards… I can draw them for anyone you bring… Including whoever left that love mark on your neck, little lover.”

I groaned and rubbed my neck. “It's noticeable?”

Otlan came closer, adjusting his monocle. “A love mark? This one? With who? Who would be so unlucky?”

Mava laughed out loud. “Oh, Timaeus, if you had given me more of a hard time, I would have exposed your lover.” She raised a brow. “Or lovers? I see that you’re caring about your appearance more.”

“Wait, the cards can do that? Like town square gossips?” Otlan asked. “I want to know—”

“Oh hush, you nosey fool.”

I got up from the seat, much to Otlan’s dismay. “Thank you for today, Mava.”

“It was my pleasure… If you do anything to combat this future, please feel free to come back and consult the cards.”

“Otlan, I came here to consult you about something too,” I said.

The old man stood up a little straighter.

“I conducted surveys yesterday, to learn a little more about what supplements and concoctions the guards are taking.”

Otlan showed a crooked grin. “Finally! Some logic! And so, what are you looking to find?”

“I’m trying to identify what best promotes muscle growth—”

“Bear’s Paw, and most spores when coupled with an activator—though an activator with Bear’s Paw as the base would be preferred.”

I just stared at him.

“I did those surveys two decades ago. Would you like my notes? I’m sure there might be some new mixture one of our colleagues stumbled upon, but my notes are the best foundation.”

I nodded. “Yes, please.”

Mava let out another laugh, like she was shaking off the tension the future was provoking. “Oh good, we both got to help Timaeus today. What a lovely day.”

***

Fortunes collected, I headed out, taking the route through the market.

“The city might be doomed… but maybe the three women’s fates are frivolous. If we abandon the city, we might be able to find a place to live if we can get to one of the other villages… All the protagonists got there by falling into the rivers around the city…”

My eyes suddenly itched, knocking me out of my mumbling. I activated Mana Vision on instinct—

“Holy shit! It’s like a supernova!” I exclaimed, my vision overwhelmed by the sight.

There, walking along on the other side of the marketplace, constantly emitting these waves of golden light, was an extremely familiar person. I had to turn off Mana Vision to see him—

“The First Protagonist.”