Silas sat uneasily in front of the woman with long braids and striking skeletal makeup. The flickering candlelight from the two candles placed on either side of the table danced across the cluttered space. The table, lined with incense sticks and bags of dried herbs, seemed almost mystical, piled high with jewelry and small trinkets that Silas couldn’t quite identify. The scent of sandalwood and something sweeter lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the heavy silence in the room.

  He fidgeted, his fingers nervously tapping the edge of his seat. The strange atmosphere, along with the unpredictable nature of what he was about to ask, made his nerves feel raw.

  “I’m Darla, by the way,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, but had an underlying warmth to it. She didn’t seem to notice or care about the tension Silas was carrying with him. Instead, her focus was on the tarot deck in her hands, each card adorned with intricate designs that caught the light as she shuffled them.

  The way she spoke about Charlotte, however, piqued Silas’s curiosity. He didn’t mention much about Charlotte to Darla, only a brief mention of their connection, but her recognition was immediate.

  “I’ve heard her name before,” Darla continued, not pausing her card shuffling for a second. “Charlotte Greene, you say? That’s an interesting name to bring up. You know, she’s not one to talk about the people in her life. Funny, she never mentioned you. Are you her boyfriend? After the Collapse, people have been so eager to connect in any way they can. Well, ‘make love’ isn’t what I’d call it anymore, honestly. It’s more like… loveless, senseless… well, you know—“

  “Okay, I get it,” Silas interrupted, his face turning a subtle shade of pink as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m just a friend. We met recently and got along quickly. That’s all.”

  Darla smiled, though there was something unreadable behind her eyes. She didn’t believe him. It was too easy to see, the way she sat back and regarded him. There was no malice, just an amusement in her gaze, like a cat toying with its prey.

  “Ah, friends, huh?” She leaned her chin into her hands. “Well, I suppose there’s no arguing with that. But how about you humor me for a moment?” Darla’s tone shifted slightly, becoming more casual. “Are you into tarot cards or astrology at all?”

  Silas gave a dry chuckle. “Not really. My knowledge of stars doesn’t go beyond the Big Dipper.”

  Darla sighed theatrically, tapping the table lightly with her fingers. She paused, as if considering how best to approach him. “Then… would you like to learn? It’s quite interesting to be aware of, you know.”

  Silas raised an eyebrow, hesitant. “What if I said no?”

  “I wouldn’t give you what you want,” Darla replied with a sly grin, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

  Silas blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of her answer. “So, in other words, I have no choice?”

  Darla’s smile only widened. “Nope. But trust me, it will be worth your time.”

  Silas sighed, rolling his eyes. There was something about Darla that made him feel like he had no room to back out. If she wanted to take this turn, he might as well indulge her.

  “Alright, let’s get this over with,” Silas muttered, trying his best to sound indifferent, though his curiosity was starting to creep in.

  Darla stretched her arms above her head before yawning softly, a slow and deliberate motion that only added to the laid-back aura she carried. After a moment, she reached forward, lighting a candle at either end of the table. Their warm, flickering glow cast long shadows that seemed to stretch and dance along the walls. The room felt even more intimate, almost suffocating with its heavy atmosphere.

  “Silas, was it?” Darla asked, her voice suddenly much softer as she placed the tarot deck in front of her. Her fingers danced over the cards with a certain reverence, as if the cards themselves were the most precious things in the world.

  “Yep,” Silas answered with a nod, his gaze flicking to the cards, wondering just how much he was about to be involved in.

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  “Out of these 22 cards,” she said, holding the deck out toward him, “pick one.”

  Silas stared at the spread of cards. Each one seemed equally intriguing and cryptic. There were no words or images he recognized. They were all face down, waiting for him to make a choice.

  He reached for a card in the middle, but immediately pulled his hand back. Something didn’t sit right. He glanced over the others, his gaze flicking from one card to the next. Each time he reached out, his hand hesitated. This wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

  Darla watched him with amused patience, her eyes twinkling. “You must be really focused to get this right, huh? Don’t worry, there’s no wrong answer. Just pick one. You’re not going to break anything.”

  Silas, slightly embarrassed by how hesitant he’d been, let out a short sigh. This was ridiculous. But he reached again, this time picking the card on the far left. As soon as his fingers made contact with the card, he pulled away.

  That wasn’t it.

  His fingers hovered over the cards again. He hesitated, almost feeling a magnetic pull toward one in particular, but doubted it. After a few moments, he exhaled in frustration and finally decided. His hand landed on the card in the far left column again. This time, he didn’t pull back. He carefully slid the card out and placed it on the table before Darla.

  “Here,” he said, his voice a little rougher than usual.

  Darla raised an eyebrow. There was a flicker of something, curiosity perhaps, before she gently took the card from him. She turned it over slowly, and a small gasp escaped her lips.

  “The Wheel of Fortune,” she murmured, a gleam in her eyes. “Oh, what a gem.”

  Silas blinked. “Is that good or bad? I don’t really know what I’m looking at here.”

  Darla’s smile turned sly. She placed the card face-up on the table, and Silas leaned in, examining it carefully. The image was bold, a giant wheel dominating the center, surrounded by intricate symbols, each one more cryptic than the last. Creatures clung to its edges, and at the top, a sphinx sat with a knowing gaze. It was the kind of image that begged for interpretation.

  “The Wheel of Fortune,” Darla explained, her voice taking on a tone of reverence. “It represents the endless cycles of fate—everything in a constant rise and fall, like a wheel that never stops turning. Good luck, bad luck—it all comes with the wheel, and whether you’re at the top or the bottom, everything changes. Some people call it fate, others call it chance, but one thing’s for certain: the wheel always moves. You can fight it, but it doesn’t stop. You either learn to ride the wave, or you’ll get crushed by it.”

  Silas stared at the card, his brow furrowing. It was a lot to take in, the weight of what she was saying sinking into his bones.

  “See the creatures in the corners?” Darla pointed to them as she spoke. “They represent the things that stay constant, no matter how much the wheel turns. The sphinx in the middle represents wisdom. Only those who understand that change is inevitable can rise above it. It doesn’t matter if you’re on top of the wheel today—there’s always a fall coming, and when that comes, you’ll need to be ready. The question is: will you be the one steering the wheel when your time comes, or will you let it drag you along?”

  Silas took in the symbols on the card. It was as though it was speaking directly to him, to the turmoil inside him that he could never quite escape. He thought of the choices he’d made, the way he’d tried to control his own destiny. But how much of it had been in his hands? How much of it had truly been fate?

  “So… is this supposed to represent me?” Silas asked, his voice quieter now, reflective.

  Darla paused, her fingers tracing the edges of the card slowly. Her gaze was soft, distant almost, as if she were contemplating the question herself.

  “Who knows?” she said, her voice a little more enigmatic now. “Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. But you’re the one living your life. Only you can answer that when you reach the end of your journey. In your final moments, you might look back and think about the meaning of this card. And when you come across me in the afterlife, you’ll have your answer.”

  Silas leaned back in his chair, his mind spinning. “So you’re saying you have no clue about anything you’re talking about?”

  Darla let out a soft chuckle, waving a hand as if brushing off his question. “Isn’t that an extreme accusation, Silas? What’s life if not one big guessing game? Maybe it’s time you start living in a way that fits the card, hmm?”

  Silas stood up, not entirely sure what to make of the conversation. “I’m not sure I want to be ruled by tarot cards for the rest of my life. But, Charlotte’s blend, please?”

  Darla’s eyes flickered with amusement, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she handed him a bag of multi-colored herbs with a knowing smile.

  Before he could leave, Darla added one last thing. “Oh, Silas. One more thing.”

  Silas paused and turned back to her. “What?”

  “Your birthday,” she said, her voice serious now. “In order to better understand your future, I need to know when you were born.”

  Silas hesitated, then sighed, realizing there was no getting out of it. “March 20th.”

  Darla’s eyes widened slightly at the response, her lips curling into a knowing smile. “March 20th. The day when light and dark are equal—the day of the equinox. A child born on that day stands at the center of fate itself. The turning point of everything.”

  Silas raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. He thanked her and left, feeling oddly satisfied despite the strange encounter.

  As the door closed behind him, Darla sat back in her chair, staring at the empty room with a soft giggle. “March 20th… I wonder, Silas. Will you steer the wheel, or will it steer you?”