Who: Madam Eva — the elder and seer of the Tser Pool Vistani. Ancient, dark-eyed, and in no need of introductions: she had ours already.
Where: The great tent at Tser Pool.
Status: Behind us on the road now. Will we see her again? — “Signs point to yes.”
First met: Session 6.
The reading
Candles, black velvet, a crystal ball on a gold stand, and two decks of cards — a tall “common” deck and a smaller “high” one. “It took you all long enough. Are you ready to learn your fate?”
What she told us, before a single card turned:
- We are here for a reason. It is no happenstance that the mists took us five.
- The reading was given freely — no silver crossed any palm. (Fëanor’s ruling: therefore not devilry.)
- Refusing the reading meant failure. Guaranteed.
- Asked about our heirlooms: “I know many things. I cannot say all. The cards will tell. I will not.”
Then five cards for five fates, and a personal reading each — the complete record, card by card, is on The Reading (short form on Quests & Threads; raw session record in the field notes). Her parting words: “Your threads have now been woven and drawn taut. They pull you to the future. I have read what may be, not what must be. You could still fail. But with this knowledge, you have a chance.”
The card she gave anyway
Only Sirius she turned away: “Even if you wanted a reading, I could not give you one. Your fate has already been read.” She pressed a card into his hand anyway. We looked over his shoulder: blank. But Sirius sees a lady of ravens on it — and she spoke to him. His full account is on The Reading. He has not really put the card down since.
Character witness
- Sirius reached for the wrong deck and was called an “imbecile” — twice, with relish — by a woman who explained that “an old woman is given many affordances.” His answer, knightly to the last: “I will stomach my pride for the sake of my friends.” It is in the minutes. (Fëanor later requested the wrong deck on purpose and cheerfully earned one of his own.)
- She fetched Sirius wine first, though. Fair’s fair.
- She knew things the cards shouldn’t need to tell her — our names, our pasts, the shape of Lily’s trouble (“something sweet has taken root in you, little one”) a full day before the windmill proved her right.
Open questions
- How long has she known we were coming — and how?
- Who read Sirius’s fate, if she couldn’t?
- “I know many things. I cannot say all.” — cannot, or will not?