Mist covered the floor, creating an eerie and mystical atmosphere around the shop as the sun hit the gorgeous purple and sequinned thin curtains that were plastered by the windows and doors, casting an indigo shadow around the dim room.

The space was cluttered with crystals and tarot cards and bones and whatever other useless and on theme items you could gather. These items were nice, but nothing -and I mean nothing!- could compare to the crystal ball you had positioned right in the centre of your table. Sure! Maybe the ball was just some clear quartz sphere you had, but that’s not where the magic came from.

You were a witch, of course, a REAL one. But being a real witch didn’t pay the bills- you know what did? Fortune telling to the poor, miserable souls willing to spend a pretty penny for you to tell them how their life will unfold in the future. All you had to do was take a small peak, give them a speech about it, and boom! Not so difficult, right?

That’s how it went usually, but when a lost and battle worn soldier came running in, begging for you to help enlighten him about what horrors were to come just so he could return him and his men to their kingdom… maybe you should take your feet off the table and actually help this guy.