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It was an unassuming exterior. She had learned long before about blending into the societies in which she set up her practice. After all, any entity needing her services would be able to get through the wards she had set up around her residence. Still, her business also had its’ share of thrill-seekers; curious groups of students, timid would-be suitors and occasional lonely hearts. It was these people who paid the money she paid to the City of New York.
Her other customers, those from alternative realities or other dimensions gave her the items from which she paid the Magikal Dimensional Council. In turn, the MDC awarded her the license to practice in the other realms and dimensions. Funds also had to be paid to the Magikal Protective Guild (the MPG was NOT to be confused with the MDC) which assigned her “cat” to her. The “cat” having the appearance of a grey tabby, was a younger sprite tasked with her safety. On rare occasions the “cat” had frightened away people intent on robbery or worse. The MPG dues, renewed annually, were a bit steeper.
They would have been less if she was practicing in Minneapolis, but she loved New York City. To meet these pecuniary requirements, she sometimes had to provide them with a subject for experimentation or fill a cage for a special courier with a selection of rats or other critters to take back to the alternative dimension. She didn’t enjoy thinking about the fate of these beings, large or small, but the MPG and the MDC needed the beasts for some of their spells, and she had a business to protect.
She had inherited her powers from her mother, of course. Witchcraft always passed through the maternal line, although not all magic users were female. The methods she used in her craft had been honed over many years of practice, and she had tried many different styles and types before settling down to tea readings and Tarot card spreads. The cards she used were from a deck that had finally adopted her after she had tried more than 20 different old and new decks. Her deck hummed in her hands; shuffling the cards always built up a charge in her body that cleared out her sinuses as well as her “magical” pathways.
Smiling, she poured the hot water in with the tea leaves. She preferred a personal mix of two teas – a green tea named Gyokuro, and a black called Kamari. These specially selected teas balanced each other and assisted her focus. She often read the tea leaves for her clients. Most people enjoyed the slight taste of brown sugar and nuts the Kamari tea was renowned for.
Shuffling the deck, she pulled a random card, placing it face down onto the table in front of her. Continuing to shuffle, she pulled additional cards, placing them into a specific pattern. This reading was for herself – a daily ritual to guide her through the day ahead. As she prepared to turn the cards over one-by-one, the bells above the shop door rang out a warning. She wrapped the cards in a silke wrap as a baritone voice, trembling slightly, called out a tentative “Hello?”
“One moment,” she called. Putting the cards back onto the table, she put the saucer on top of her teacup in an attempt to keep the beverage warm and moved into the sales area.
This room was her main money-maker. Decks of Tarot cards, incense – both stick and cone, and jars of medicinal herbs of all types, cluttered every surface and shelf in the small street-level room. Hanging down from the high ceiling were silk scarves and bundles of herbs, kept out of easy reach while they finished drying. Other shelving held sprays of feathers, various animal claws, and crystal points, as well as talismans, incense sticks and cones, books on Tarot and alchemy, and small statuary used in personal shrines. It was a bit of “industrial chic meets Wiccan”, i.e. a jumble, but it suited her well.
Stopping short, when she saw who had walked into her store that morning, she gasped. “My Lord! How may I be of service to the King of the Fae?”
The King, for indeed it was he who had entered her shop, turned gracefully toward her. “I need your assistance, as well as your advice, if you please.”
“Of course,” she said, as she bowed deeply. “If you would pass through to the inner room, I will close the shop so that we might be uninterrupted.” The King nodded slightly and moved toward the hanging curtain separating the public area from her divination room.
After locking the door and turning the “OPEN” sign to “CLOSED”, she passed into the back room. “Would you care for tea, your Highness?” she asked before taking her chair. The King shook his head, so she proceeded to her chair and sat, waiting for the King to speak.
“Actually,” he began, “perhaps a cup of tea wouldn’t be a bad idea after all.” “Of course. Immediately,” she responded, and moved to the hot water still in the electric kettle at the back of the room. “Do you have a specific tea you prefer?”
The King made no specific request, so she made a pot of her favorite blend, which he seemed to enjoy as he took his first sip of the hot beverage. “I apologize for taking away any custom you might have received this afternoon, but I have a dilemma and hope you might assist me.”
“How may my poor skills help you, Sire?”
“My youngest daughter is missing. I have had the guard and my knights out looking for her for two days now, and there has been no sign. If she had been taken by an enemy, I’m quite sure I would have heard about it, or her remains would have been found prominently staged. But my soldiers and soothsayers can find no sign of her. From that, I assume that she came here, to your lands, where my powers are weaker.”
He sighed and continued. “It’s not as though I haven’t other children; over the millennia I have sired hundreds.” He shook his head and continued, his eyes a bit glassier than before. “She is … well, she is dear to me. She brings joy to all who meet her; enchants them without thought or effort. My Court is in mourning. We are missing the brightness that she brings.”
“She sounds special indeed. How does she present in the human world?”
“As a young woman, before children or marriage have aged her.” The King nodded, envisioning his youngest. “She has embraced the modern world, especially music. Although she plays a variety of instruments, she prefers to listen to the music of your world, especially this singer called Taylor Swift. She has trained all the court musicians to play the songs of this Swift, and dances under the moonrise to them.”
“Ah. Taylor Swift is scheduled to play this very night here in New York City. If she truly is a ‘Swiftie’ as her fans are called here, she more than likely will be in attendance.”
“That will be simple, then. I can just cast a finding spell in the venue, find her and bring her back home. No-one will know the difference.”
“Ummm, I beg to differ, your Highness. Are you aware of how many people attend these concerts? The arena, Met Life Stadium, will hold more than 80,000 screaming “Swifties” who follow her every move, know every word of every song, will be dressed in brilliant colors and festooned with bracelets up each arm as well as others nearby to give and to trade. It’s a festival of goodwill pulled together by music. I’m sure your daughter will have a wonderful time, but I’m also sure you’ll find it almost impossible to locate her until after the show ends for the night.”
She saw that the Elven King was a bit distraught at the news. “Your Highness, may I suggest something?”
“You come highly recommended, which is why I am here today. How can I find my daughter and return her to us in the Fairy realms?”
“Allow her attend this concert. Let her attend and scream along with the multitude, dance, sing, trade her bracelets and generally act human for one night. She can go back to the court revived, and ready to take up her tasks once again tomorrow. Send out a beacon. She will follow it and find you here when the concert is over. Both of you will be the better for the experience.”
“I had been told that you were wise, and as much as I don’t like the advice you are offering, I can see the wisdom in it. I will send my lieutenant to this building. He will cast a beacon to guide her to us when she has finished dancing with the mortals.” He looked at her sharply. “You are certain that she will be safe among these people?”
“I’m quite sure she has powers of her own that will protect her from any mortal meaning her harm. It might be a beneficial experience for both of you. She will have the opportunity to spread her wings a bit, and you will allow her to have just enough leash for the experience of her long lifetime. Your wisdom will be celebrated even more than it is now, and she will have a memory that will never die.”
“That is wisdom, indeed”, the King said. “Might I have more of your delicious tea, and perhaps I will indulge in a reading after all.” They smiled at each other as she got up to fetch the teapot. It would be a long night, but it could prove to be an interesting one.
Her other customers, those from alternative realities or other dimensions gave her the items from which she paid the Magikal Dimensional Council. In turn, the MDC awarded her the license to practice in the other realms and dimensions. Funds also had to be paid to the Magikal Protective Guild (the MPG was NOT to be confused with the MDC) which assigned her “cat” to her. The “cat” having the appearance of a grey tabby, was a younger sprite tasked with her safety. On rare occasions the “cat” had frightened away people intent on robbery or worse. The MPG dues, renewed annually, were a bit steeper.
They would have been less if she was practicing in Minneapolis, but she loved New York City. To meet these pecuniary requirements, she sometimes had to provide them with a subject for experimentation or fill a cage for a special courier with a selection of rats or other critters to take back to the alternative dimension. She didn’t enjoy thinking about the fate of these beings, large or small, but the MPG and the MDC needed the beasts for some of their spells, and she had a business to protect.
She had inherited her powers from her mother, of course. Witchcraft always passed through the maternal line, although not all magic users were female. The methods she used in her craft had been honed over many years of practice, and she had tried many different styles and types before settling down to tea readings and Tarot card spreads. The cards she used were from a deck that had finally adopted her after she had tried more than 20 different old and new decks. Her deck hummed in her hands; shuffling the cards always built up a charge in her body that cleared out her sinuses as well as her “magical” pathways.
Smiling, she poured the hot water in with the tea leaves. She preferred a personal mix of two teas – a green tea named Gyokuro, and a black called Kamari. These specially selected teas balanced each other and assisted her focus. She often read the tea leaves for her clients. Most people enjoyed the slight taste of brown sugar and nuts the Kamari tea was renowned for.
Shuffling the deck, she pulled a random card, placing it face down onto the table in front of her. Continuing to shuffle, she pulled additional cards, placing them into a specific pattern. This reading was for herself – a daily ritual to guide her through the day ahead. As she prepared to turn the cards over one-by-one, the bells above the shop door rang out a warning. She wrapped the cards in a silke wrap as a baritone voice, trembling slightly, called out a tentative “Hello?”
“One moment,” she called. Putting the cards back onto the table, she put the saucer on top of her teacup in an attempt to keep the beverage warm and moved into the sales area.
This room was her main money-maker. Decks of Tarot cards, incense – both stick and cone, and jars of medicinal herbs of all types, cluttered every surface and shelf in the small street-level room. Hanging down from the high ceiling were silk scarves and bundles of herbs, kept out of easy reach while they finished drying. Other shelving held sprays of feathers, various animal claws, and crystal points, as well as talismans, incense sticks and cones, books on Tarot and alchemy, and small statuary used in personal shrines. It was a bit of “industrial chic meets Wiccan”, i.e. a jumble, but it suited her well.
Stopping short, when she saw who had walked into her store that morning, she gasped. “My Lord! How may I be of service to the King of the Fae?”
The King, for indeed it was he who had entered her shop, turned gracefully toward her. “I need your assistance, as well as your advice, if you please.”
“Of course,” she said, as she bowed deeply. “If you would pass through to the inner room, I will close the shop so that we might be uninterrupted.” The King nodded slightly and moved toward the hanging curtain separating the public area from her divination room.
After locking the door and turning the “OPEN” sign to “CLOSED”, she passed into the back room. “Would you care for tea, your Highness?” she asked before taking her chair. The King shook his head, so she proceeded to her chair and sat, waiting for the King to speak.
“Actually,” he began, “perhaps a cup of tea wouldn’t be a bad idea after all.” “Of course. Immediately,” she responded, and moved to the hot water still in the electric kettle at the back of the room. “Do you have a specific tea you prefer?”
The King made no specific request, so she made a pot of her favorite blend, which he seemed to enjoy as he took his first sip of the hot beverage. “I apologize for taking away any custom you might have received this afternoon, but I have a dilemma and hope you might assist me.”
“How may my poor skills help you, Sire?”
“My youngest daughter is missing. I have had the guard and my knights out looking for her for two days now, and there has been no sign. If she had been taken by an enemy, I’m quite sure I would have heard about it, or her remains would have been found prominently staged. But my soldiers and soothsayers can find no sign of her. From that, I assume that she came here, to your lands, where my powers are weaker.”
He sighed and continued. “It’s not as though I haven’t other children; over the millennia I have sired hundreds.” He shook his head and continued, his eyes a bit glassier than before. “She is … well, she is dear to me. She brings joy to all who meet her; enchants them without thought or effort. My Court is in mourning. We are missing the brightness that she brings.”
“She sounds special indeed. How does she present in the human world?”
“As a young woman, before children or marriage have aged her.” The King nodded, envisioning his youngest. “She has embraced the modern world, especially music. Although she plays a variety of instruments, she prefers to listen to the music of your world, especially this singer called Taylor Swift. She has trained all the court musicians to play the songs of this Swift, and dances under the moonrise to them.”
“Ah. Taylor Swift is scheduled to play this very night here in New York City. If she truly is a ‘Swiftie’ as her fans are called here, she more than likely will be in attendance.”
“That will be simple, then. I can just cast a finding spell in the venue, find her and bring her back home. No-one will know the difference.”
“Ummm, I beg to differ, your Highness. Are you aware of how many people attend these concerts? The arena, Met Life Stadium, will hold more than 80,000 screaming “Swifties” who follow her every move, know every word of every song, will be dressed in brilliant colors and festooned with bracelets up each arm as well as others nearby to give and to trade. It’s a festival of goodwill pulled together by music. I’m sure your daughter will have a wonderful time, but I’m also sure you’ll find it almost impossible to locate her until after the show ends for the night.”
She saw that the Elven King was a bit distraught at the news. “Your Highness, may I suggest something?”
“You come highly recommended, which is why I am here today. How can I find my daughter and return her to us in the Fairy realms?”
“Allow her attend this concert. Let her attend and scream along with the multitude, dance, sing, trade her bracelets and generally act human for one night. She can go back to the court revived, and ready to take up her tasks once again tomorrow. Send out a beacon. She will follow it and find you here when the concert is over. Both of you will be the better for the experience.”
“I had been told that you were wise, and as much as I don’t like the advice you are offering, I can see the wisdom in it. I will send my lieutenant to this building. He will cast a beacon to guide her to us when she has finished dancing with the mortals.” He looked at her sharply. “You are certain that she will be safe among these people?”
“I’m quite sure she has powers of her own that will protect her from any mortal meaning her harm. It might be a beneficial experience for both of you. She will have the opportunity to spread her wings a bit, and you will allow her to have just enough leash for the experience of her long lifetime. Your wisdom will be celebrated even more than it is now, and she will have a memory that will never die.”
“That is wisdom, indeed”, the King said. “Might I have more of your delicious tea, and perhaps I will indulge in a reading after all.” They smiled at each other as she got up to fetch the teapot. It would be a long night, but it could prove to be an interesting one.
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Thanks for reading and I hope I merit your vote this session.
- Erulisse (one L)
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- Erulisse (one L)
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- Erulisse (one L)
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Such a great description. :)
My friend, this is wonderfully creative. Truly a delightful blending of these intermingled worlds!
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- Erulisse (one L)
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- Erulisse (one L)
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- Erulisse (one L)
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- Erulisse (one L)
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- Erulisse (one L)
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- Erulisse (one L)
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You could go far with this one - if you ever decide to do so. It would be a delightful read, I'm sure.
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- Erulisse (one L)
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Kudos
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- Erulisse (one L)
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- Erulisse (one L)