Make It Make Sense

Verse I: Mumbo Jumbo

"Please, sit and make yourself comfortable, as the reading will commence shortly."

Two seats faced each other with a table in between, covered by a silky purple cloth pulled taut to remove any creases. Only an enchanted looking deck of cards sat on top of it, placed neatly beside a jeweled box where they probably came from.

The mysterious lady gestured towards her guest to take the far seat, then without waiting for a response, proceeded to walk around the perimeter of the room with sage in hand, moving with a direct calmness like she'd done this same routine or ritual a million times before today.

Suddenly feeling apprehensive, the man hesitated for a few seconds, second guessing his decision about coming here. Nothing new there, anytime he'd think something over, he'd end up overthinking. What in the heck kind of reading was she talking about?

Curiosity soon got the better of him - nothing new there either - and so he obliged to the mystical woman's request. He looked around, eyes darting this way and that, senses overloaded at the sight of such a unique space. Judging by the decor and aesthetic, undoubtedly he'd entered the dwelling of a Sorceress, but of what kind, he had no idea.

Having never frequented this area before, introductions were in order, plus he needed to stall her for the briefest of moments while she had her back turned to him, lighting the 4th and final candle occupying each corner.

"I am called Yoke. And you are?"

"They call me Lady Phaedra."

An interesting choice of words, but to each their own. The pleasantries provided enough of a distraction for Yoke to surreptitiously pull out a map from his garments, carefully unfurling it underneath the table to make as little sound as possible. At first glance, it looked like any ordinary map, showing the lay of the land along with its every detail. Rivers, mountains, settlements, everything. But not everything is as simple as it seems. Underneath his breath, he murmured.

"From flame to ash, and ash to flame, show me where I need to go."

This was no ordinary map. This item was - shall we say, of the magical type - able to conjure a detailed rendition of any and every land he traveled, amongst other things. Many other things.

A red, translucent X materialized on it, symbolizing the spot where he needed to go. Yoke believed the map pulled from the holder's deepest desires, guiding them where to go. On the same token, it could just as well be designed by some person, force, or deity, to do their bidding. The possibilities were endless.

Nevertheless, he'd traveled from waypoint to waypoint, guided by each X that marked the spot, then moving onto the next one. After years of travel, he was beginning to wonder if there even was a 'final destination' of sorts.

Sure enough, a translucent Y overlapped the same space as the X, confirming he was indeed at the place he needed to be.

Quietly rolling the parchment back up, Yoke made to put the item away and simultaneously looked up. Straight across from him, Lady Phaedra stared straight into his eyes.

Yoke finished stashing the map and stared right back. Plenty of men had died because of it, and he would be a liar if he said he had never killed in defense of it. Calmly, he rested one arm on the table and the other near his pocket where his weapon of choice resided. If he had to kill again, he would not hesitate.

Somewhere deep within his consciousness, a voice screamed.

"What have I become?"

The question went unanswered.

Lady Phaedra smirked, then looked away, oddly conveying no interest in what Yoke held in his possession or why he acted in such a manner. Maybe she truly had no interest in his business. Or maybe she was feigning disinterest, waiting for the moment he dropped his guard to become the map's new holder. The former seemed more plausible, but just in case, he kept the hand not on the table in place.

"Shall we get started, Yoke?"

"Started with what? I think you have me confused with someone else, lady. I was just passing by, saw this place, and decided on a whim to say Hello."

Another smirk, this one wider. Yoke couldn't tell if she merely felt amused, or knew he was fibbing.

"I'll spare you the backstory, but I can tell you for certain one does not, cannot, find this place 'just passing by,' as you so eloquently put it."

Yoke said nothing, committed to his golden rule: When in doubt, shut up.

Lady Phaedra continued.

"In front of me are a set of 78 cards. They are more or less a deck of the Tarot variety with a bit of a twist. These are of my own creations, tweaked here and there wherever I saw fit. You require information only a certain source can provide, and my duty is that of a medium to deliver such information with the assistance of these cards. You following?"

Yoke nodded. Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt.

She moved the cards to the center of the table.

"When you are ready, place one hand on top of the cards. Remove it when you feel the time is right, then cut the deck, if you wish."

If Yoke said what was on his mind, it probably would have been somewhere along the lines of 'sounds like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me.' Hence why he so fervently stuck to his own rule. What game were they playing here? What game was she playing here?

Seeing no reason not too, he moved the hand previously resting on the table to the top of the deck. May as well play along, he figured. What else was he going to do? Whatever was supposed to happen here, he had to see it through.

Instantaneously he felt a surge of energy coursing through him, then as quickly as it came, draining him. It wasn't anything distinctly painful like touching a hot plate and instinctively recoiling away, more so an intangible feeling he couldn't find the words to describe. He held his hand there for another few seconds, wanting to exude confidence and strength, but not sure why.

Caring what strangers thought about him… that was something new. He took his hand off and kept it close to the deck, deciding if he should cut it or not. If anything nefarious was amiss, cutting the deck would change nothing. And thus, as a show of good faith, he kept it how it was and slid the deck of cards back to her.

Yoke never could have predicted Lady Phaedra's response… yet another smirk. Braille would be easier to read than her body language, and he hadn't studied it for even a second of his life.

"Care to share with the rest of the group what's so amusing?"

Lady Phaedra looked up from fanning out the 78 cards, a look so sharp it sent shivers up his spine.

"You shall find out soon enough."

"That's a non-answer if I've ever heard one."

Yoke crossed his arms subconsciously, looking around, and nearly had a panic attack realizing he'd just dropped his guard.

Nothing happened. Resisting the urge to triple check the map, he took a deep breath. For whatever reason, he was supposed to be here. In order to find out why, he'd need to get a grip on his rampaging thoughts.

In each corner, the aroma from the candles smelled pleasant but not suffocating or overwhelming. Their flames danced the night away, flickering ever so often.

The overlapping fanned out cards couldn't have been neater. Facedown, they made a perfect curve with every gap between each card equal.

"Pick three. Once you've decided on one, pull it slightly towards you and let go. When you're finished, I will assemble them into my own custom 'spread,' or system for translating what your chosen cards say. Each has their own meaning, and each has additional meaning when paired with others. There are many layers to this process, but fret not, I shall not bore you with the dull mumbo jumbo."

Yoke's reaction came on time delay. Three seconds after Lady Phaedra had delivered her explanation, his eyes went wide, knowing he did in fact hear what he thought he heard.

Mumbo jumbo… Could it be? No, no. It must've been an uncanny coincidence how she managed to nonchalantly voice what he was thinking in his head not even ten minutes ago.

Slowly but surely, his heart beat quicker and quicker. The intensity of the moment had increased tenfold.

"What to pick. What to pick…"

She sat there, casually observing him. Patiently, she waited, like she had all the time in the world.

For the first card, he'd move to pick a card, then change his mind. Sometimes the worst kind of nervousness is the kind one doesn't expect. Why would he have nerves over some dumb magic trick?

Finally making up his mind, he picked the first card at the very end of the curve, then chose two others randomly near the middle in quick succession, wanting to he done with it.

In one smooth move, Lady Phaedra scooped up all the cards in one smooth motion, putting them back in their box. She left out the three that had been picked, arranging them in the order they had been selected. One by one, she flipped them over.

Revealed first came the three of swords. The image depicted was that of a heart, three blades piercing through it and out the other side.

The next card made things even gloomier.

Death.

A skeleton wielding the stereotypical scythe made up the foreground, however the background intrigued him the most. A phoenix, wings spread, roaring at the moon above.

Yoke started feeling dizzy. Lady Phaedra's words all sounded like nonsense as he felt like his brain was momentarily giving out on him.

Finally…

The Hanged Man.

No longer could he resist the urge. He didn't care if she saw him utilize his one-of-a-kind map. Hurriedly taking it out and spreading it across the purple cloth, he recited the same phrase as earlier to activate its powers.

"From flame to ash, and ash to flame, show me where I need to go."

To his utter dismay, the map remained blank. This had never happened before. Wha - 

Had the room grown warmer? In a matter of seconds, the room's temperature skyrocketed. Inside the card Death, the eldritch phoenix broke through dimensions, miraculously appearing right before his very eyes.

Lady Phaedra's eyes pierced straight into his soul. Something bad was about to happen, he just knew it. For Yoke, it was too little, too late.

You may not have pulled the Judgement card, but you have been judged nonetheless. Wickedness has gained a stranglehold on your soul. One you cannot escape from. May your soul be purified and reborn once again.

The phoenix didn't boast the monstrous size of a dragon, but it packed just as much of a punch, if not more. It released a jet of reddish-blue flame upon Yoke, incinerating him where he stood. He did not scream in agony, for the process was merciful, but the look in his eyes said it all…

"I was just - lost."

And with that, Yoke had moved on to other worlds.

Verse II: From Flame to Ash & Ash to Flame

"How could you do this to me God."

"How could you do this to me God."

"How could you do this to me God."

They didn't know it, but three soulmates… Called out to a HiiPower in synchronicity, all of them unaware to what Dark Matter manifested behind the scenes.

Before they can rise, they had to fall.

One killed them softly.

One went straight for the jugular.

One incurred the full wrath of the other two, wondering if he'd be able to see either of them again. Wondering if he did, what might they say? What might they do? Could they ever forgive him? After all, even when they were wrong, they were right… That's just how she goes. 

Why must they insist he gave his heart to any other?

Why must they insist his soul could be given or taken by any other?

When they wanted too, they would accept Him.

Unless it was not a question of want to? If so, what must He do?

"Why oh why beings always kill vibe? Always set limit themselves? Always spoil party? Time for change at hand."

Mr. Pointy talked to himself one day, then profoundly found it difficult to break the habit. Spend enough time alone, talking to oneself becomes second nature. If you know, you know.

In unison, synchronistic harmony, Mr Pointy heard the despair of the three. Despite knowing this agony only temporary, it didn't make things any easier to endure. They must have felt their cries of anguish felt to them as if was falling on deaf ears. Of course, it wasn't. Course, course, course, it wasn't, but Mr. Pointy the garden gnome had no way of telling them that. He was a garden gnome, after all.

And so for years, he watched, and waited. All three of them liked to garden and be outside in some capacity. 

"Heh, heh, heh. Metaphors dirty. Hard to catch. Heh, heh, heh. The pretty colors their auras gave off when they mingled together truly exemplified beauty. But they could not see. When will they learn, it has never been about sight. Walk by faith. Not sight. Faith. Not sight. Savvy?"

Ohhmm so close, if only she would have exited that bar thirty seconds earlier.

If only he would have went to that tattoo festival instead of meandering around the…

Everybody's watching her, but she's looking at…

"After careful consideration, it's all the bloke's fault - "

"Hey! I can hear you!"

"ohmmm. Yes. Dragon. The Dragon. Is…"

"Yes, yes. The muh-fucking Dragon is muh-fucking awake now. How can I help ya?"

To Be Continued…

**Story completed approximately 1 year ago**

(Another Elegant Literature Prompt iirc)

Verse II added this morning