It was the scent of fresh meat and smoke, the crackle of burning wood, and the promise of a blazing fire that brought me to my senses. My mind was a-jumble with too many concerns, and it was an effort to push those things aside and rein in my wild thoughts. I slowly came back to myself, came to terms with my place in the world, and cast away the black doubts that immobilized him.

I’d evaded my pursuers for the time being, but there was no doubt in my mind that— for the Hunters at least— there’d be no distance they wouldn’t travel, no lengths they wouldn’t go to retrieve him to secure Altressor’s future. The Remnants were another matter entirely, but I didn’t expect them to give up pursuit while I remained on their home turf, and that didn’t even include those who might seek vengeance or seek to shackle me to their cause.

“What say you, Traveler?” the voice said soothingly. From the man’s tone, he’d likely said the same thing more than a few times.

“Excuse me?” I said.

“Might you find it in your heart to join a lowly hermit by his meager fire?”

I realized I'd been standing on the edge of the hermit’s camp. I’d unconsciously positioned myself outside the light so that I would be enveloped by shadow, but the old man had sensed him nonetheless. I glanced appreciatively at the remains of a rabbit that’d been spitted over the fire and left to smoke over red-hot coals. Before I knew it the promise of warmth had me sitting cross-legged on the opposite end of the fire.

“You must be hungry. Might you care for the taste of warm flesh?”

“I don’t have anything to trade,” I said.

The hermit waved a hand magnanimously. “Nonsense. A Traveler such as yourself has a bounty of treasures indeed for one such as I. Go on, eat.”

I reached out for the spitted meat, but stopped short. “Shiro. My name is Shiro.”

“A fine name, fine indeed. Most call me The Hermit, but I also go by Arcadius Alverstone, if it pleases you,” Arcadius said.

I wolfed down the meat as I examined the Hermit in the flickering firelight. A waxy gray robe, gnarled staff, worn sandals and heavily callused hands and feet— he appeared to be The Hermit through and through. And yet, I sensed hidden depths to the old man that defied any attempts at probing for deeper understanding.

“Forgive me for asking, but have you recently experienced something inexplicable, even magical? I have a nose for these things, you see, and one who has achieved The Sight in such a dramatic fashion tends to linger.”

I stayed silent, suddenly on guard.

Arcadius managed a graceful, seated bow that made his visage seem to flicker from the dancing flames. “Do pardon my intrusion into your personal affairs, I meant no offense. My curiosity gets the better of me at times… as does my love of games,” he said, managing an almost flippant, cheery-looking smile that swept away my baseless suspicions.

I would do anything to avoid the incomprehensible conversations that seemed to lord over all things magic. A silly game provided the perfect excuse, and the perfect escape from a line of questioning that would quickly reveal my ignorance.

“A game, you say?” I said, trying to inject enthusiastic interest into my voice despite how my body rebelled against the idea of staying awake.

Arcadius steepled his fingers and leaned back like he was a master performer and Shiro was to be treated to a private show. “Hermit though I may be, I am a Master of the Arcane, entitled to judge and enact justice whenever and wherever I so choose. Now, boy, are you willing to play a game?

“A game?”

“A game unlike any other! A game of fortune and chance that will plot the course of your destiny and determine what fate and fortune shall befall you on the journey ahead.”

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“No jokes, no gimmicks. Magic,” The Hermit said with a wave of his hand.

“Magic,” Shiro repeated.

He felt the word slip out of my mouth tonelessly. Like an uncertain child he sat still, afraid, shocked at the world and what it presented to my childlike eyes.

“Excuse the eccentricities of an old man. These little games are my way of passing the time.”

Arcadius stroked his long beard like he could wring the unanswered questions of the universe from its ashy depths. The Hermit gazed through me— like I was an object to be held and examined. In the old man’s eyes I became something less than human and more than the person I was: a sea of possibilities and probabilities that sailed across the infinite planes of space and time.

The folds of his threadbare clothes shimmered and his eyes, sun-blinded with age, focused on something with a frightening clarity. With a suddenness that made me shrink back, The Hermit reached out as if plucking ripe fruit from thin air.

“Behold,” The Hermit said.

At first I was blinded by the light. I fell back onto my elbows and felt one stab jarringly into a rock, but the pain was distant. Because above the crackling fire glittered a tapestry woven from my innumerable actions, inactions, and decisions. So numerous were the threads that I couldn’t distinguish any single one from the whole. My dilated eyes absorbed the tapestry in an accordingly limited fashion, but the sight was no less grand.

The Hermit steepled his fingers and his face cracked open to reveal an unseemly smile. “Magnificent, no?”

I could only stare. My potential self shone like a beacon. Because I’d never seen something so radiant up close, my dilated eyes failed to notice the deep shadows that pocketed the card like lesions. It seemed to imply that great potential waited in the wings, but no matter my course my fate would remain a double-edged sword.

I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. The future terrified me. How would I discover the right way to navigate the treacherous landscape of life? It was entirely possible I’d already taken a wrong turn and set myself on the path to destruction. Maybe I should’ve ceded my position to the Seventh after all.

? ——— ?

“Ah, my apologies… I do tend to forget to warn people that these visions can be quite overwhelming. Perhaps another tack shall prove more illuminating. Might I interest you in a different game?”

Shiro wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. “I don’t—”

Arcadius completely ignored his complaint. “Splendid!”

The Hermit snapped his fingers and the intricate tapestry exploded in a shower of sparks. Blinded by the sudden change in light, I covered my eyes and looked away from the fire until the spots on my vision faded. When he turned, The Hermit was in front of him.

“Pick a card, any card.”

The Hermit grinned and fanned a deck of cards under his nose. I raised my hands and backed away uncomfortably. Alverstone stared accusingly at the cards, as if they were to blame for my hesitancy.

“One must be bold if they hope to grasp the reins of their future. Or would you rather someone else decide your destiny?”

The Hermit smiled and patiently awaited my decision. I doubted the old geezer was turned down often. Thinking it wouldn’t hurt to indulge someone who’d freely shared their fire with a stranger, I drew one of the cards.

I inspected the card. “Huh. It says, ‘Wheel of Fortune.’” I presented it to Alverstone with what I hoped was a nonchalant grin.

The Hermit’s eyes glinted. “A fortuitous card indeed.”

“Do you remember how you managed to arrive at this particular copse of trees?” The Hermit said, smiling smugly and indicating the clearing with his ashwood staff.

I was determined to show up the old-timer. “Of course I remember! How could I not? I was— I was…” I stuttered.

The Hermit tilted his head inquisitively, a smirk lurking beneath his patient smile.

I tried to recall where I’d been before I’d happened upon this odd scene, but what he’d been doing before meeting The Hermit was a total mystery. It felt like the answer was on the tip of my tongue, but no matter how much I strained to bring the preceding events into focus, I could not penetrate the thick haze that clouded my memories.

Fear and anger welled up inside me. “I can’t remember.”

Alverstone loosed a raspy chuckle and raised his Ashwood staff above his head. “Fear not. It’s no surprise you’ve forgotten. After all, this is a dream.”

“What did you just say?”

The Hermit brought the staff down on my head, giving me my first clear look at the man. “Lights out.”

The Hermit Tarot alt link: https://imgur.com/gallery/t8M9fWt