Art Sales

Poogje can be caught stalking around the woods in the dead of night, but only to find some peace and quiet, a respite from the city where he usually resides. On a rainy night, he can even be caught dancing, his arms reaching up to the sky and mouth open to catch the water falling from it. His looks are intimidating, a sinister air following his presence. While this may be attributed to his vampirism, he’s typically not a danger to most. Once you’re drawn in, however, you’re caught by his charm and wit. He’s not simply a brainless drone out for blood, he’s got a real character to him. He loves nothing more than to spend a day reading in the branches of a tree while the autumn breeze turns the pages for him.

Although he’s sweet once you get to see his charisma, if you challenge him or someone he loves, you’d best be ready to fight, and probably lose. His muscle isn’t apparent, but it’s there nonetheless, and his teeth won’t be shy to steal a drink of your blood while he’s at it. Why not make a meal if there’s going to be a fight regardless? He’s swift, calculated, and concise. You’ll hardly see it coming as his pounce comes down on your shoulders.

If he’s threatened enough, his true talent will spring forth, and you’ll never know what happened. His hypnotic gaze will draw you in, and the world will disappear around you. He’ll become your entire world, all that ever is or was, and you’ll follow his every command. Scale a cliff? Rob a bank? Leave for the hills, never to be heard from again? It’s all the same to you, you’ll do it all, and then some. Once the concentration breaks, you’ll be left with your head spinning, not knowing how you ended up miles away from home, in the middle of a forest with nothing but the clothes on your back.

When feeding, he does his best to be quick. He’s not out to hurt, simply survive. His preference is for Pteris, their blood the sweetest, almost as sugary as juice from the berries they feed on. He’ll never take enough to end a life, that’s never his goal. In the end, he’ll let the bird fly free, thankful for their donation of sustenance for another day. He’ll walk away, wiping the fresh blood from his lips as if nothing had happened – while his appearance betrays him, he does his best to hide the fact that he’s a vampire in nature.

His pet, Kames, is his truest friend in the world. They’ve been together since Poogje was a little one, before the vampirism had set in. If you threaten Kames, your world will end swiftly. They’re never seen apart, inseparable from the moment they wake to the moment they fall asleep, cuddled against each other. Where one goes, the other is sure to follow. Kames is his utmost companion, happy to oblige his wishes, so long as they get to be together.

Brushing past a sparkling purple curtain, the visitor glances around the room. It’s dimly lit – the only light coming from pale candles placed strategically around the environment. Everything sparkles in the dancing candlelight, sequins and glitter catching the reflection of the flames. A beautiful sight, the visitor is enthralled by the atmosphere. Almost everything is purple in hue, its own galaxy contained in a single space.

The visitor sits at a dark wooden table covered with a deep purple cloth with a silver design woven into the fabric, sparkling tinsel mixed into the tassels. Apprehensively, they tap the bell in the center of the table, sounding a loud ring that echoes around the room, a noise jarring and disrupting the atmosphere. They jump, as if they were not the one who had sounded the bell, and retract their hand quickly as if it had burned them.

A soft jingle draws attention to a doorway on the opposite side of the space. There emerges a man with purple hair, in a light purple cloak that matches the environment. He steps through the silver strands of flat beads that rest in the doorway, their musical nature sounding his entrance. Gracefully, he makes his way to the chair opposite of the visitor, floating onto the seat. The visitor nervously wrings their hands together, avoiding eye contact with the man who they had summoned.

“Hello. How may I be of service?” The man asks calmly, folding his hands together above the table.

The visitor pauses before speaking, as if skeptical of the man, even though they were the one who had approached him. They glance around the room again, before swiftly rising, almost knocking the table in the process.

“I shouldn’t be here.” They say, avoiding eye contact and beginning to head for the door.

“But you came for a reason.” The man says in a steady voice, not reacting to the flighty visitor.

They turn, looking at the man for a minute before slowly sitting back down and placing their elbows on the table to rest their head in their hands. Their long black hair hides their face, and they let out an exasperated sigh.

“I am the child of a great king. He wants to marry me off to a prince from a distant island country, as a token of peace. I am to be used as a bartering chip in this exchange, and our kingdom will gain the resources of this island. I don’t want this. I live for the city, I won’t take well to island life. And this man… this prince… he is vile. I’ve thought of running away, but they will find me, somehow, no matter what. How do I become strong enough to go against their wishes? What is my fate here? Can I escape this?”

The corner of the man’s lip twitches in a slight grin, and he places a hand on the visitor’s arm in gentle reassurance.

“Let’s find out. My name is Eridan.”

“Chirashi.”

Chirashi lowers their hands and peers through dark strands of hair, looking Eridan in the face for the first time. They’re struck by his appearance, instantly captivated. He’s a handsome man, with an air of mystery. Their jaw falls open slightly, and Eridan chuckles, a sound almost as musical as the curtain that he entered through. Chirashi’s bright green eyes study Eridan’s clear blue gaze – searching for answers, for some inkling as to what this man may have in store for them. In it, they find nothing but a serene presence, completely unbothered by the story they’ve just told, as if he had expected something of the sort.

Was their story truly unique, or had he heard this a million times over? The typical tale, a royal child that doesn’t want to marry. How had they fallen into such a trap?

“I never thought I’d be here… My father never talked of me marrying. It all came on so suddenly. This prince, this, this…” Chirashi shakes their head and drops it into their hands again, slender and elegant fingers covering their eyes, “This monster. He arrived only a week ago, the promise of riches and bounty to our family – if only he could have me. Why does he want me?”

Eridan leans back in the chair, leaving an arm outstretched on the table. “What makes him a monster?”

“He’s done horrid things, things I can’t repeat. I believe he killed my mother.”

“And your father hasn’t investigated the matter?”

“He thinks she fell ill with the plague – ill-gotten magic corrupting her health. She dabbled a bit in magic, things science couldn’t explain,” Chirashi raises their head and looks at Eridan with pleading eyes and continues in a whisper, “Like you.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Not in the least. She taught me what she knew, and it was kind, healing magic. Magic that put people at ease – nothing that would ever kill. Before she passed, she had horrible rashes that appeared overnight. I think he poisoned her.”

Eridan lifts a hand and rests it on his chin, crossing the other arm in front of his body as he leans forward on the table, “Why would he have done that, if he wants your hand?”

“My mother didn’t want to send me off to the island, she was against the marriage. She knew I didn’t want it. She had a sense about her – she knew when people weren’t all they made themselves out to be. She could see the wicked in him. My father argued with her for days until she fell ill.”

“So you’re running on a hunch?”

Chirashi narrows their eyes at Eridan, eyebrows furrowing, “Isn’t that what you do? That’s not the only thing he’s done. He… “ They bite their lip, tears threatening to fall.

“Okay, hey, that wasn’t meant as an attack. I just wanted to know if there was any other evidence, any other leads we could explore.”

Their silken black hair sways as they shake their head, “It’s only my word against his. My father thinks I’m just being dramatic. He doesn’t care, he’s never cared much for me. It was my mother who wanted a child. I think he was disappointed I wasn’t a son to carry on the lineage. He’s only ever seen me as a pawn in his game of politics. Never one to turn down a good enough offer, and this prince is offering my weight in gold as well as access to the island’s resources.”

Eridan holds out an upturned hand, “Why don’t we begin, then? We’ll start simple, did your mother ever delve into palm reading?”

Chirashi shakes their head, “No, she was more partial to the healing arts.”

“Ah, a noble endeavor.” Eridan nods as Chirashi lays their hand in his. A slight smile graces his face, “Well, you’ve got a nice long life line.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re meant to live a full life, into old age. So it looks like chances of this prince killing you are slim.” He squints, leaning closer towards Chirashi’s hand and running a finger lightly across their palm, “Huh.”

“Huh, what? Do you see something?”

Eridan sits up, glancing at Chirashi’s face before looking back down at their palm, “It’s a bit jagged. Something very difficult will happen in your life – it could be your mom’s passing, or it could be more. Palm readings don’t get that specific. I’ll have to bring out the tarot deck – if you’d like?”

Chirashi glances around nervously again, but nods quickly and curls their hands into fists.

“Just, one more thing before we do that. May I have another look?” Eridan’s tone is smooth and even, a calming presence to Chirashi’s nervous energy.

Chirashi holds out their hand again, and it shakes even once it’s resting on the table.

The fortune teller stops, placing a hand over Chirashi’s. His hands are warm, soothing on Chirashi’s bitter, cold skin. “You are safe here.” Eridan says in a low voice, looking into the visitor’s eyes. They lock to each other in a stare, and Eridan squeezes Chirashi’s hand lightly before rising from the table and walking to a nearby shelf, from which he pulls a tarot deck. He sits back down effortlessly, removing the cover from the box of cards.

The artwork on the cards is stunning, one that you could look at for hours without becoming bored. Intricate, woven silver patterns contrast a dark purple background. They have a gloss to them that almost sparkles in the light. Eridan removes the deck from the box, revealing the gilded silver edges of the cards. He gives them a shuffle, then hands the deck over to Chirashi.

“Shuffle them however you like.” He says softly.

Chirashi reluctantly takes the cards, cuts the deck a few times, and mixes the cards together before handing them back to Eridan.

Eridan places the cards face down in front of them, and flips the top card onto the table. Chirashi gasps and recoils at the image on the card – the devil.

Eridan holds up a hand in pause, “Now, it’s not what you think it means. The devil signifies a desire to rebel, to break free from what’s expected of you. It makes sense in this situation.”

“So… I’m the devil?”

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it. You do wish to break free – one could make the case that the devil was simply misunderstood, he only wanted to change the way some things were done.”

Chirashi nods slightly, as Eridan pulls a second card from the deck. He reveals the page of swords, reversed. Chirashi’s eyes dart between the card and Eridan’s face, trying to read his expression.

The corner of Eridan’s mouth twitches downwards, and he taps his fingers on the table before making eye contact with Chirashi. “This one also makes sense, but it’s confirming your fears. The page of swords, reversed, signifies deception. Manipulation. Your prince isn’t what he claims to be, but you’ve already figured that out. You share your mother’s good intuition.”

Chirashi rubs their eyes and groans, “But what do I do about it, that’s what I need to know.”

“Only you can make that decision for yourself, but let’s see what our final card has to tell us.” Eridan lifts the next card and places it lightly on the table as a smirk lights up his face. “The magician.”

Chirashi touches the card lightly before looking up at Eridan, “Magic is the answer?”

“Only if that’s what you believe. The magician signifies willpower, determination. You have everything that you need within you, you only need to let go of the things holding you back. You know what needs to be done.”

Chirashi squirms a bit in their seat, staring down at the card, willing for it to answer their questions. Eventually, they inhale a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “I have to disappear, but I have to end him first. My father won’t come looking for me if there’s nothing to be gained.”

Eridan twitches slightly, a crack in his otherwise composed demeanor. “I’d never advise someone to kill.”

Chirashi shakes their head, “I’m not going to kill him. He doesn’t deserve that mercy. I’m going to expose him, there must be a loose thread to be pulled somewhere. I’ll expose him in front of the masses, and he’ll be left sweeping his pride up off the floor as I vanish.”

The fortune teller nods, swiftly collecting the cards from the table as the visitor rises quickly and begins rummaging through a bag.

“How much do I owe you?”

Eridan waves a hand, “Free of charge. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Chirashi nods, then disappears out of the shop as swiftly as they’d come.

Leaning back in his chair with a smirk, Eridan taps the cards on the table gently. The pause he’d taken on the palm reading – at first he’d glanced at the love line, short and rocky. But that wasn’t what really drew his attention – he’d just seen the most whimsical career line he’d ever read. Chirashi would make good on their promise to expose this vile prince, and would go on to become a sorceress. One the likes of which the world had never seen. One day, their paths would cross again, and they would repay the favor.