Elemental Ascension, page 13
Ash had seen this card crop up before, though he hadn't pulled it in a long time. It made sense, though.
The card (when upright rather than pulled upside down), represented an awakening of some sort. It symbolised rebirth and revival, self-awareness, and the outcome of a personal evaluation. Ash had been doing a lot of thinking recently, and he'd accepted his new life as a Tetrad; something that, until now, existed in his subconscious. It was up to him to find and follow this new purpose, and to do it without lying to himself that he was anything but a powerful and rare Elemental.
“I'm familiar with the card.”
“Then we can move on.”
Brogan didn't waste time. She fanned the cards out again without shuffling them, and gave Ash time to carefully pick his eighth Tarot card. In this position, whatever he chose next would represent Ash's future.
Ash pulled Death.
Usually, this card was a terrifying sight, depicting a skeleton in black robes with a sickle coming to take the individual to their afterlife. Most people would worry about Death being in their future. But not Ash. Because he already knew.
“You do not seem surprised.”
“I'm not,” Ash told her. “I'm cursed and deteriorating every day. These new powers I'm using are useful to others, but they are draining what little energy I have. It's why I need to learn the basics so I can still help before my time is up, without it happening prematurely.”
“I see,” she said, then took a deep breath before offering Ash a much kinder explanation of this card.
In her deck, it was a pretty pink-red shade, and the cloaked figure was not a skeleton but what appeared to be a beautiful night sky, with stars and potential. The card almost breathed, which Ash found unusual for something that represented an end.
“I am sure you will be pleased to hear this card does not always mean you are destined to die.”
Ash was ecstatic to learn the card in this position actually merely represented the end of something, of letting go and moving on. It symbolised a transition, that's all.
“Death is a beginning, wrapped cosily within an ending,” Brogan explained. “It's a beautiful, peaceful card, and one that tells me something troubling is about to cease, and a transformation is going to occur. This transformation must be linked to you because these cards are yours, but it may not mean the death is your own.”
“And death doesn't necessarily mean...” Ash pulled his index finger across his neck to suggest a beheading and made a CRKKK noise.
She chuckled behind her palm and shook her head.
“That's a load off.”
She held up a finger of warning. “But, it does not always mean survival, either. Death can, sometimes, simply mean death, and the start of a period of mourning for our loved ones.”
He thought about Deerbolt, and how she might feel if the curse won and he was forced to leave her forever. His chest tightened.
“Pull another,” she said, offering him the deck again. “This card will tell me what has settled in your unconscious mind, what has always been present, but not necessarily useful... until now.”
Ash closed his eyes this time, still thinking about his night in Deerbolt's bed, which had been destined to happen, and he wanted it to happen again and again so badly, he couldn't clear the image of her soft skin from his mind.
Not so surprisingly, Ash pulled the Lovers card next. Brogan's deck displayed two bare people entwined by their hair, one baring a bow and arrow tattoo and the other grinning. It looked like such a romantic card.
“What does the arrow symbolise?” Ash asked, tapping the tattoo on the man's forearm.
“You are struck with emotion!” Brogan began, “And, you have been thinking a lot about choices and commitment, but until recently pushed related decisions to the back of your mind, believing you could do nothing to influence the outcome. In the upright position here, the Lovers is a card that symbolises love and duality. It is unconditional. Trusting. Affectionate. Whomever this card relates to in your life, you empower one another in a beautiful, complimentary way.”
“Deerbolt and I have a strong working relationship,” He cleared his throat. “Can we move on?”
“Aye.”
Brogan beamed; it was nice to see a client so happy with the outcome of a reading, particularly when the Lovers appeared in that position. More often than not, people were desperately in love and not quite willing to admit it to themselves. When they did, it was stunning and special to be a part of—to prompt.
The following four cards were more about Ash as a person, and began with the way he saw himself, followed by the way others saw him.
Internal vs external.
Some Cartomancers placed them in a line running from bottom to top on the right of the others, and some placed them in a square. It seemed Brogan was one of those Seers.
Ash pulled these two cards together as they were so similar. Effectively, two sides to the story. The card to identify how he saw himself was the Hermit, and the card to identify how others saw him right now was the Magician.
“As I expected,” Ash commented when he saw the lonely girl sitting on the mountaintop, with only her own soul's glow for company.
The Hermit was a lonely card, and reflected Ash's search for wisdom, likely linked to the Tetrad book he now possessed. Brogan's version was aqua with a golden character on a steep hill, with only one rocky staircase leading to her perch.
“You are withdrawing, retreating within yourself,” she told Ash. “I think unintentionally you are doing the opposite; your gift is blossoming, and your circle of friends widening. Your inner lantern illuminates your mistakes, and these you focus on too strongly. Mistakes are supposed to be made, because that is how we develop and mature.”
Ash grunted. “I killed three people.”
She argued, “And saved countless others. Do not let the quiet consume you, so you dwell endlessly on your wrongdoings, Ash. Introspection will only achieve so much.”
“And others seeing me as a magician... is a joke?”
She paused, then replied, “What do you see here?”
Brogan graced her hands across the spread. Ash followed them but said nothing, holding a blank expression.
“These cards are all major arcana.”
“Is that bad?”
“Rare.”
He began chewing his nails. “Don't your other clients pull major arcana cards?”
She sighed. “Not without minor arcana cards intermingling. The cup, sword, pentacle and wand cards are all more common because there are more of them; one has more chance of pulling some, if not all, minors.”
“But your skill is not based on luck,” he said flatly.
“Exactly. Your fortune is your fortune. If it requires major cards, there is nothing I can do to intervene. I have never done a reading like this before. Not in thirty years.”
“You're how old?”
She smiled but said nothing. She didn't need to. Most Seers began practising at six or seven years old, so she was thirty-six or thirty-seven years old according to his calculations. She looked mid-twenties, though.
“The Magician is a card I've pulled before.”
“It is a creative, manifestation card.”
Ash added, “And a powerful Alchemical one.”
“They are all powerful and Alchemical. The Magician slightly more so. This card represents the Fool turning into a key.”
“A key?”
She nodded. “To all magic, aye. You can create the life you so desire. You alone. You have the skill. You have the power. Others now know you are a Tetrad. They understand what you are capable of. You hold their adoration and fear.”
The card was brightly coloured, covered in symbols and lights. In it, a hooded man controlled four streams of starlight, which Ash thought corresponded to his Elemental abilities: earth, air, fire and water. On the man's arm was also a spiritual symbol. Ash had heard rumours that there were, in fact, five elements and not four, as recognised by the God of the Land: earth, air, fire, water and spirit.
Chapter Twelve
The Tower
Hopes and fears were dominant in Ash's mind, more so the fear of death than the hope of a future. He wasn't at all stunned to see the Devil in this position, with its open palm, beckoning him to take the character's hand and be led astray. This card was Ash's shadow self, the term a Cartomancer used to recognise Ash's dark side.
What had he repressed? How did he indulge? What was he manically addicted to?
“The Devil comes when you are at your lowest,” Brogan went on to explain. “He offers you many gifts, temptations and promises. Sometimes, we cannot resist him. But you, Ash the Elemental, must see through these niceties. You hope for a future though you believe you face only death; this curse you speak of masks the truth, and so you are allowing the Devil to lead you blindly, praying that by accepting your fate, you can numb your pain. We both know that is futile.”
The cabin seemed suddenly darker. The candles didn't quite offer the same comfort and warmth they had a few cards ago, when he'd pulled the Lovers. The melted wax at their base was ominous, and spilt over to form cream icicles.
“There are parts of your past that cause you great shame. You loathe who you once were and fear that man exists within you still, perhaps only in part. But you are learning to identify what scares you, and you are challenging these debilitating beliefs.”
“So, I should confront my shadow self?”
“Aye, because in doing so it will lose its hold on you.”
Would Ash feel free and alive if he was to release his past mistakes, and not allow the way they made him feel, or how they affected his present actions, to control him?
He grinned. It was an illuminating idea.
“Are you ready for your final card, Ash?”
He sat back and gestured she ought to draw this for him. If the pattern so far had taught him anything, it was to expect a major arcana card, something life-changing and eye-opening. This last spot on the cloth was where his reading concluded. The outcome.
Brogan wasted no time. She flipped the top card, and Ash faced the misunderstood image of the Tower.
The Tower, in Brogan's deck, was a grassy hill, alive and pretty in oranges and greens. Animals pranced, but they seemed scared, because a bolt of lightning had struck the peak, and rocks were crumbling. Were they happy to be living in the safest part at the foot of the hill, or were they actually fleeing? Ash pondered the implications of this card. So often, it was assumed your life would come crumbling down around you, when in fact, the Tower was a new beginnings card. It could point to a crisis, but most likely, it symbolised a sudden change—destruction must occur to purify something else.
This was how Brogan explained the card to Ash.
Overall, it was a gloomy idea and it created a sense of moodiness in the cabin as Ash came to terms with what aspect of his existence would need to tumble in order to rebuild elsewhere. Not his relationship with Deerbolt, surely? Ash would do anything to keep her happy now; he couldn't—wouldn't—lose her to his stupidity again.
“In this position, Ash, I would consider your foundations; think back to roots and beginnings. Why are you the way you are? Where did this Tetrad ability originate? And though what lies ahead may be chaotic and sporadic, a clear path can be forged through the dust and debris.”
He sighed. “Things get worse before they get better.”
“In essence, aye.” She added, “Mayhem can also hide within your core values and beliefs. If what you have followed and trusted for so long is false or tarnished, this can tear down your infrastructure to make room for a fresh perspective. It may be as simple as assessing your religion.”
“I don't actively follow any religion, not since leaving Dragonborn. But, I do trust in the old ways.”
Brogan took his hand then, unexpectedly. Ash didn't recoil. He found her touch comforting. Though Ash didn't want to hear much of what she'd said, it was her curse to know and to speak it. Nothing was her fault—only Ash could act upon the messages she delivered.
“Your time as a Guardsman doesn't have to be painful,” she whispered. “Trust instead, in the Tower. Things happen for a reason, and there is always a reaction to every action. The Tower symbolises that reaction.”
“I understand.”
She patted his hand, then retreated to her deck.
In eleven Tarot cards, Ash had witnessed a visual expression of his life from past to present, conscious to unconscious, and through his emotions. Brogan allowed him a moment more to view the layout, then gathered the cards to shuffle and place them back in her coat pocket.
There were more pleasant cards to pull, for sure. Ash had hoped for the Page of Wands (enthusiasm, adventure and exploration), or maybe the Three of Cups (friendship and celebration). He'd have settled for a sword card—at least with a sword, he'd expect a conflict, and conflict was... survivable. He could cope well with a disagreement, or a fight. Fights, Ash often won. But swords were air cards, and in the Elemental world, he would have been more likely to pull wands, the fiery and energetic, creative and passionate side of any Tarot deck. Raven, being a Slyph, would have been prone to swords, and with his argumentative nature, Ash could see those being an ideal fit. His, however, were not. Ash was not at all creative, and he did not have much willpower, especially since leaving Dragonborn.
On the Grace and at the First Watchtower, Ash used Undine abilities. Water went well with cup cards. Was something like the Three of Cups too much to ask?
“You are saddened by your reading,” Brogan speculated.
“I'm not sure what I expected, to be honest.”
“Wands, pages and numerology-wise, I'd say... rather early. Like aces or fives, at a push?”
Ash gasped. “That's incredible. How do you know all this, just by looking at a bunch of illustrations?”
“You're a Salamander,” she said, then chortled. “And I've been doing this over thirty years. Give me credit.”
“Sorry.”
“Here's the thing about wands, Ash, they spark life and they fuel energy. As a Tetrad, you'd have been closer with pentacles, because these five-pointed stars connect us to the material world around us. Oh, and to nature.”
Confused by the material part of her definition, Ash asked Brogan to elaborate on how that aligned with his truth. She added pentacles were often associated with possessions and property or jewels. Ash was head-to-head with the Order right now, and they wanted nothing more than to absorb the Land's resources. Pentacles were his life at the moment.
“And if I read Raven's cards, they would've been swords mostly, because these are intellect and knowledge-focused. He spends his time reading and imparting all he learns to travellers.”
“That's Raven,” Ash agreed, smiling.
“Now you're getting it. And our Captain Deerbolt, should I get the chance to read her Tarot cards on this voyage, may pull mostly cups. They are emotive and instinctive. Cups are mysterious, and correlate to water. Deerbolt lives out here on the sea. She has given second chances—given life—to so many lost souls. Raven, Kite, Reverie and, of course, yourself. Water is life.”
Now, he understood. Cartomancers could use what they knew about you already to better interpret the cards you pulled. A more in-depth explanation would then be offered. If the client and the Seer were strangers, Ash thought, they could offer definitions and examples, but it would be up to the client to bond each image to their circumstances.
The minor arcana numerology cards ranged from ace to ten, and were then followed by a suit of four court cards: the page, the knight, the queen, and the king. In Tarot terms, Ash was semi-familiar with how the numbers represented life experiences, and the court cards were archetypes for family and corresponding roles played. Queens were motherly. Pages were childish. And so on. But suits were, at the centre, elemental.
“More complicated than reading tea leaves,” he murmured, much to Brogan's amusement.
“The Oracle offered you a classic spread,” she continued, “which can be used without having to ask you questions prior to the reading.”
“He didn't,” Ash confirmed. “I helped him and in return I think he felt it was his duty to read my cards, to warn me about upcoming options.”
“And you resisted?”
Ash shrugged. “A little. I'm not sure I believe Tarot is as spiritual as Seers make out.”
Brogan nodded and inhaled, winding up to offer Ash insider's information into the world of Tarot. She gestured he lean in, though they were the only Alchemists in the room, and whispered in his ear.
“Tarot itself is not spiritual,” she admitted. “Just like tea leaves and palms are not. These are a means to offer personal insight, to guide a client into studying and assessing their life as it stands—their past mistakes and the future, such as ways to correct the evil within them, or to meet their goals. Tarot was not born with the Dragons and their Alchemy, Ash, it was an ancient game Humans played long before, which Seers have adapted as a comfortable and friendly delivery system.”
“To deliver what?” Ash asked, frowning.
Seers were Alchemists because of their abilities to read a person's past, present and future, which was Alchemical and spiritual. How else would the Seer be able to learn so much about their clients? How did they know what you had done and were about to do—to deliver what we have seen? Seeing is within us; our choice of outlet brands us a Cartomancer, a Hydromancer or a Chiromancer.” She winked, then added, “So you're right to believe Tarot is not mystical. The cards don't predict what's going to happen to you and those you love. We predict this, and we instruct the cards to communicate it so you can understand; it is an Alchemical conversation—a relationship, if you will—between the Seer and their method.”
Ash offered a half-grin and reached out to shake Brogan's hand. She had clarified a lot and given him much more to think about. He wished he could get his hands on a deck of his own to better study the illustrations and get a feel for hidden meanings. Receiving a reading had helped him, but he and the Seer were always limited by time, or space, or his work. In the past, Ash's readings were sometimes only a few minutes long and in a simpler three-card spread, or a single one.
