The Writer's Café

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Prologue

The Kingdom of Astryllia.

            The summer sun beat down on the worn canvas tents, the cobble-stone paved walkways, the chattering families. Four six-year-olds wandered aimlessly past booths selling everything from roasted pigs’ knuckles to a chance to pelt a disgraced maiden with rotten tomatoes. All were by themselves, with no real goal in mind. Each child eventually meandered over to an attraction with “Madame Serena’s Fortune Telling Booth” hastily scrawled on a wooden sign. One after another, unaware of each other, they pushed aside the dusty velvet drapes and entered the dimly lit room. A small table at the center of the room was draped in the same material as the curtains, and the walls were painted a matching deep violet color. The only part of the room not a dark amethyst hue was the scuffed but intricately woven rug nailed to the floor.

            Madame Serena, her face hidden behind a netted veil, rested her wrinkled hands upon the sparkling crystal ball. “Sit,” she commanded, pausing as they filed in and plopped down on the four purple cushions in front of her.

            “You all came in here alone, yes? And you have not known of each other’s existence until now?”

            The four nodded, each one chiming in with an excuse for their absence of a guardian.

            “I do not know if you speak the truth, nor do I care. I only know that you need your future told, and I am the one to do it.” Madame Serena’s steely grey eyes suddenly snapped open wide. She began to chant strange words, the contents of the crystal ball swirling in a miniature storm.

            “All four of you… Your threads of destiny are woven tightly in with something… powerful. Something astounding. Something I cannot even begin to comprehend,” she intoned. “You must watch your step. One false move can lead to destruction.” Her eyes stretched even wider and had a frenzied, possessed look in them. They were the only things visible beneath the veil.

            “Listen very, very carefully. Your fate holds something terrifying in store for you.” Madame Serena took hold of each of their shoulders and shook them, causing the children to shrink back in fear. “Whatever you do, do not give up. All of you are vital to your – and this world’s – survival. You cannot fail.”

            The six-year-olds each let out a terrified shriek and fled the tent, blinking in the blazing sunlight. They hastily scurried away from the strange exhibit with the appalling woman inside and went their separate ways.

            A few minutes later, they cautiously edged back inside the tent. A woman no older than thirty sat inside. She had the exotic looks of a foreigner – most likely, she was the daughter of a merchant from another kingdom.

            “Madame Serena,” the golden haired girl whispered. “What did you mean by all of that?”

            “All of what? Who is Serena?” the woman replied, a bewildered look on her face.

            “The fortune you just gave us. Serena is you!”

            “I’ve never seen you four before in my life. And I haven’t left this tent since the festival started. Anyways, where are your parents? With times this rough, I don’t need to be wasting minutes minding young ones.”

            They shook their heads and exited the tent. The sign now read, “Fortunes of Mysteria!”

            No one would believe what they saw. After all, young children tend to experience imaginary memories. A crazy old woman shaking their shoulders and acting insane seemed like a hallucination to anyone who was listening.

            So they continued to enjoy – or at least try to enjoy – the rest of their time at the celebration. But there was a constant worry at the back of their minds.

            Would the woman come back?

            What was going to happen to them?

            How could they stop it?

            None of these questions could be answered.

            And by the next day, all four had forgotten all about Madame Serena.

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 A/N: I proofread multiple times, but not on here, and this randomly deleted spaces throughout the text. I apologize for any mistakes I didn't catch.

Ohh Chilling. I loved the descriptions! It really made me feel like I was there with the kids.

PC!

(PC means Please Continue, I am thinking this site needs it's own version of a Bump)

Nice! And yeah Jennete! Great idea! PC!