Tale 34- The Woman of Fortune

 The Traveler wandered through the woods, finding herself in a tiny town with a single tavern. It was pretty busy inside, despite its remote location, so there was a good chance she’d find a story in there somewhere. Entering, she tried not to be knocked over by the people drinking and dancing, all of them looking as if the best day of their lives was upon them. She couldn’t help but slightly envy their joy. A waitress suddenly approached her. “It’s you! Everyone, she’s finally here!” she called out, taking the Traveler’s arm and leading her to the middle of the crowd. Immediately uncomfortable to have so many eyes on her, she tried to escape, but the woman’s grip was far too firm. “We’ve been waiting ages. What took you so long?” she asked, the Traveler staring at her and using her other hand to keep her hood from slipping off. “What…do you mean?” she asked, her heart practically bursting due to how overwhelmed she felt. The waitress led her toward a corner, where a lone person sat, and practically forced her down into the seat. “All will be explained.” she winked, before disappearing back into the crowd. The Traveler turned to her left, before her eyes widened in recognition. Marcielle.

The pink-haired knight stared at her with a small smile. “Miss me?” he whispered, before putting an arm around her. Instantly, she tried to squirm, to escape, but the man simply looked at her with concern. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.” He spoke, removing his hand as the Traveler inched further and further away. He raised his hands and clapped twice, the entire tavern staff springing into action and bringing out platter upon platter of food toward their table. Marcielle smiled a little as water was poured into two goblets. “That water is the freshest mountain spring water. I had them walk all the way up to get it for us.” he explained, before passing one of the cups to the Traveler, who stared down at it, thirst now settling in her throat. As the food was revealed, the Traveler’s stomach began to grumble, her mouth watering. Cream buns, cakes, fruits of every exotic variety, and a large pile of apples and grapes. She felt her hand move toward the cream buns, before she clenched her fist. “Why are you being…so nice?” she demanded, turning to face Marcielle as he tore a grape off the vine with his lips and swallowed it. “Well, I thought you’d be hungry and thirsty after such a long journey. You’ve walked very far down that mountain, haven’t you?” he asked, the Traveler’s heart pounding. Had he followed her…? But she and Sarafelle had been so careful… She clenched her fists harder, trying to resist the aromas of the cooked meat and roast potatoes. The cool water she desired was so, so close to her. Finally, Marcielle sighed. “I know you don’t trust me, but I want to help you… I don't know if you know, but when I was young my life was almost bartered for 30 pieces of silver. Blood money, if you will. I’m telling you this because I want you to have that money, as well as all this food.” he spoke, placing a bag of coins on the table which rattled. He smiled, before taking an apple and holding it up to her mouth. “Bite it.”

Her lips trembled, opening and then closing as she swallowed. Marcielle’s eyes watched her intently, before he moved his hand onto her thigh, gently rubbing it with his thumb. Still holding the apple up to her mouth, he chuckled. “It’s not that hard. Just one bite, and we’ll enter into a deal. You get all this food, all this water, and all this money, just for a few moments together. It won’t even take long…and I promise not to hurt you too much.” he whispered, practically pressing the red fruit to her lips. Her heart beat frantically and her entire body trembled. The sight of the platter in front of her, the money she could use to make survival easier, the water she so desperately craved, all of it…all of it…just for one moment. Just for a second of surrender in the grand scheme of life. She felt her eyes bulging, as if she was on the edge of the abyss. Dare she drop? Dare she eat the forbidden fruit, take the blood money, drink the unholy water? Her hands were powerless against his dominion, her body inert as a statue when faced with his status. She was…nothing. He smirked, slowly dragging another grape off the vine and crushing it between his teeth, swallowing the juices with a great sense of satisfaction. “You are hungry…I am hungry. I will satiate you, if you do the same for me.” He murmured, a bit of grape juice dripping down his chin which he promptly licked. He stared at her as she contemplated, becoming tired of waiting. His hand moved beyond her thigh, causing her to tremble violently. “Bite. It.” he whispered, a sinister undertone appearing. The girl’s breathing became uneven, closing her eyes to try and ignore the bountiful pleasures in front of her. There was a price, a price the child couldn’t afford to give, for she knew it would destroy every part of her until she withered away to nothing. Shaking her head, she forcefully put a hand between her lips and the apple, Marcielle raising an eyebrow as she pushed it away. “No deal.” She spoke, between panicked and frightened breaths. Instantly, the man began to squeeze her, causing her to completely panic. In her momentary fight to escape, the Traveler caused the entire table to collapse and rushed out the door as he gave chase, her breathing strained and panicked. Trying to lose him between the buildings, the Traveler hid behind some barrels, hearing him pass her and the crowd from the tavern dispersing around her, all of them in a drunken stupor. Suddenly, she heard a new sound. Keeping herself hidden, someone had begun blowing a whistle and yelling at the crowd to act responsibly. As the sound got closer, she curled up into a ball, praying she wasn’t seen-

“Excuse me? Why are you hiding behind a barrel? Vagabonds aren’t allowed to loiter here, you know.” A man spoke, with a voice that sounded authoritarian and commanding. Slowly, the Traveler stood, turning to face him. He seemed surprised at how young she was under the hood, and offered a hand. “You look in need of aid. How may I assist you?” he asked, the Traveler weighing up her options. He seemed to be friendly, but she couldn’t trust another public figure. “No…I’m fine. I’ll go now.” she whispered, before dropping her book in her haste and the man picking it up, flipping through it. The Traveler was far too frightened to ask for it back, but a sparkle of admiration had begun in the man’s eyes. “Did you…draw and write all these?” he asked, the Traveler shrugging. “I…collect them.” she mumbled, the policeman smiling. “If you’d like to hear about it, I had a strange encounter many years ago that I think would fit in here perfectly.” he offered, the Traveler raising an eyebrow and nodding, even despite her quivering from the previous events. Sitting on a barrel, they began to converse, the policeman telling the tale of ‘the Woman of Fortune’.

‘Years ago, there was a sinful criminal, who thieved and tricked others throughout the entirety of his youth. Though he was poor, he was intelligent, and had a habit of stealing from the rich and spending it on wild nights and worldly pleasures, rather than spending his time wisely. As he grew, he decided to try and rob some unsuspecting gypsies one day, but was caught by one of them, a beautiful young fortune teller. Without batting an eye, she read his fortune and deduced nearly everything about him, the criminal being extremely unnerved. She offered him some advice and money, so he wouldn’t go hungry, and sent him on his way. From that day forward, he visited her often. At first, he wanted his fortune read each time, but it soon became a question of visiting her instead, for he was falling in love. Her final piece of advice before the gypsies moved on was to keep being good, as he had completely changed his ways due to her. Under that vow, he trained as an officer, and serves the land to try and steer others down the right path.’

The policeman watched the Traveler try to write everything properly despite her mind screaming at her, thoughts of Marcielle and those sinful, awful touches constantly weighing on her mind. He sighed. “Nearby, there’s a woman with some children. She’ll take you in for the night.” he explained, pointing across the small village toward a little house. “I’ll pay for everything. And when you depart tomorrow, keep yourself safe.” he spoke, the Traveler shaking but agreeing. A warm bed and cleanliness would serve her well after everything. The two walked toward the home together, the Traveler trying to believe she would be safe here, away from his watchful eyes and dangerous hands.