NEFERTARI
We've Become Disillusioned
So We Run Towards Anything Glimmering
When the fae women was met in greeting a bit more of her regal countenance appeared. She took the proffered cushion, albeit she had made the odd choice to float above the grass the scant few feet to it. The soothsayer noted that the flowers did not follow her hovering form, dissipating once her hooves were no longer touching the earth. Something about that sudden burst of life made the winged woman uncomfortable enough she would rather risk her wings bumping into persons or things than leave any evidence of whatever skill or magic she carried inside of her. The blooms left behind seemed to sigh in despair, relaxing into the soft grass of the plains, but not disappearing. The dusky mare wondered briefly how long those blooms might stay there, if not forever.
Caelum settled into the patchwork pillow with grace, her returned statement in a foreign tongue, rich and delicious like honey. Something old and exotic that tickled at the Solterran woman’s ears in a pleasant manner. She quickly corrected her speech, self conscious at the obvious slip. The seer flicked an ear dismissively, not at all bothered by the woman’s choice of words, starting to put the puzzle pieces together. She’d seen similar actions in young ladies just learning to become part of nobility and court life. While the fae woman appeared older than any of those fillies that Nefertari would have associated the behaviour with, it still echoed in the back of her mind.
She spoke of her fear, though the arabian cross didn’t need to be told. “When we try to run from our destinies, from ourselves, we only end up running ourselves ragged by the time it catches up to us,” she said simply. It was so much easier to say such things to strangers, to offer sage advice to others and speak it as infallible truth, rather than internalize it. The twilight woman was speaking as much to the summer child as she was to herself, though she’d never admit it.
As Caelum indicated her deck cut of choice, Nefertari stacked the two other halves neatly atop each other, pressing her muzzle to the surface of the cards and whispering a quiet thanks before setting them off to the side. The seer then began to lay out the cards from the portion of the deck that the fae had chosen, flipping them over one by one.
A card displaying a rearing stallion with three large staves at his sides, turned so that Caelum might be able to read the gold embossed lettering that said “Three of Wands” at the edge of the image.
A second card, a full moon and a languid mare thrown into silhouette, a golden tear tracing the curve of her cheek.
A third, stallion decorated in iron armour atop a single gold coin. This too, is turned so that it can be read from the patron’s side, “Knight of Pentacles”.
A fourth card displaying the cycles of the moon, the corners holding representations of earth, air, fire and water, an elegant hourglass flanked by two rearing equines placed at the center of the image.
Nefertari remains neutral as she ponders the cards for a silent moment, then drawing four more cards, pairing them with each of the first, placing them down in the same order of left to right.
A wealthy mare scattering coins as she dances, colourful scarves twirling about her frame as young colts and fillies delight at her periphery. This card is turned in match to its counterpart, reading “Six of Pentacles”.
A screaming buck, eyes wild as swords dance around him, lightning flashing in the background, his body stark white against the otherwise dark image. The lettering that faced Caelum read “Ten of Swords”.
A filly snubs her nose at a line of young suitors offering her various gifts, a pile of glittering trinkets lying ignored at her feet, among them several jeweled goblets. “Five of Cups” the card proclaims to the fae woman across the table.
A hefty draft looks out over a garden, seven sunflowers blooming with golden coins for their center, a gentle smile on his features.
The clairvoyant looks at each of the cards individually, then as couplets, as single entities and as one. Her golden orbs are unwavering, her breath steady in her creamy chest as she leans across the table, beginning to speak, her voice soft at first, distant.
“Whoever he is,” she says, “He is not who you think, Caelum. He does not speak in whole truths, and you are not using your gods-given wisdom to see it. I understand, though.” The mare sighed. “It is easy to fall into men when we do not want to fall into ourselves. But you must,” she pushed The Moon towards the fae.
“You must look into yourself, Caelum. What is it that makes you so afraid? You know the answers that you seek. Why does this knowledge frighten you so?” The woman tilted her head, flaxen locks falling about her shoulders and spilling across the edge of the table, golden pools searching. “You are causing your own grief, by ignoring these things. You are troubling yourself with woes that may not come to pass, but holding onto the grief that comes with these illusions will only cause more sorrow.
“You cannot refuse to grow. You must stop running, Caelum. Stop turning to anyone and everyone else in hopes that the outcome will change. That they will put a cease to your suffering. The caterpillar must first be undone to become a butterfly. You know this, and only prolong the hurt the more you refuse to build the cocoon.”
Nefertari’s lyrics are pleading now, tears starting to well in her eyes, an ache forming in her chest. “You know who you are.” She sucks in a shaking breath. “There is only good waiting for you, if you will only accept it, embrace it. Become who you have always been meant to be. Everything that you have lived through has led you to this moment. The seeds were sown and now it is time to bask in the glory of the sun. Things were set in motion long before you were created and long after you are gone. Fighting against destiny has only brought you suffering and grief, but this,” She moves the final card towards the woman, the contented expression of the draft stallion as he oversees his bounty highlighted by the pillars of light streaming through the tent.
“This is what is waiting for you when you finally release the sorrow and embrace the wonderful things that are coming to you.”
art by pacificdash character by scapeh table by sunny
