A cool draft pulls in through the window, blowing the fabric of the newly hung up chicken-curtains to the side. The drapes billow in the breeze, pulling away from the wall like shackled ghosts as the whisper of the night enters their home.

Light shines around Fresh’s woven fingers which spin around the haunting glow of the orb set down before herself on the table. A light shawl, which she has twisted around herself like a hood, adorns her head that is hunched over the crystal-ball.

“I see… I see….”

The air between the two of them is tense, stiff. The discomfort present in the emptiness between them is tangible. It can be felt as if it were a malevolent spirit, sitting there between the two of them.

A pair of eyes stares her way nervously, two fearful appendages covering a set of pursed lips, waiting to hear what the future might hold in store.

Fresh gasps.

“I see someone with you,” says Fresh, lifting her gaze to look at the customer.

“Pakew?” asks the spriggan, sitting across from her at the library table.

Fresh nods. “They have…” she looks back down at the orb. “A leaf on their head!”

“Pakew?!”

Fresh nods again, spinning her fingers around the orb as she stares back into it, her eyes wide, unblinking, as they absorb the glow of the future that might one day come to pass. “Their skin is woody and barky,” she affirms.

“You’re just describing a spriggan,” sighs Jubilee.

Fresh jumps up to her feet. “You’re going to spend your days together, having a lot of fun!” The spriggan gasps, its stubby arms tapping against its face in excitement. Fresh nods. “And then, one day, you’ll like each other a whole lot!” The spriggan kicks its stubby legs around giddily.

The wind howls, pressing into their home, pressing the fabric of the shawl past her face, whipping it towards the darkness present in the room, as if it were yanking her towards it. A hand clutches the table as the other rises to point at the spriggan with a crooked finger. “But beware!” she says. “Be on the lookout for a man with a purple scarf and black boots,” she warns. “He will destroy your future.”

“Pa… pakew?”

Fresh nods, sitting back down. She lowers her gaze, closing her eyes. “The orb has spoken,” she whispers, waving her hand over the crystal-ball.

The house-spriggan nods uncertainly and then gets up.

“Pakew?” asks the healer-spriggan, coming upstairs.

The house-spriggan blinks, staring at it. Its gaze rises up to the healer-spriggan’s tall, sprouting leaf and then back down to its brown, woody body. “P- pakew!” stutters the house-spriggan, clutching its face as it runs off, apparently embarrassed about something.

The healer-spriggan looks back their way. Fresh gives it a wink. It runs off downstairs.

“Are you trying to hook the spriggans up?” asks Jubilee, leaning back against their chair. “You scumbag.”

The horrible witch of every-place ever lets out a devious, haunting cackle, spinning her hands above the orb once more. “I see… I see…” she jumps up to her feet. “I see you going with me to the festival tomorrow!” exclaims Fresh.

Jubilee shakes their head. “Nice try. But we have a shop to run.”

“But Jubileeee~” protests Fresh. “You can't deny the future that I foresee in the crystal-ball!”

Jubilee sighs. “You haven’t even used it yet. You’re just making a bunch of spooky noises and playing pretend.” They shake their head, getting up. “Let’s go to bed,” they say, waving her off as they go downstairs too, to get ready to sleep. “We have a business to run.”

Fresh frowns, sitting there alone at the table. She looks back down to the crystal-ball and holds her hands against it.

(Fresh) has activated: [Crystal-Ball]

A vision appears in the glass of the crystal-ball. She is walking through the winter-festival. In one hand, she’s holding a chicken in her arm. In the other, she’s holding someone’s hand. A human, a woman. Someone familiar. Someone with long hair. Someone -

“Come on,” says Basil, grabbing her shoulder and interrupting her vision. “Let’s go to bed.”

Fresh blinks, looking down at the orb which has now stopped and then back to the priestess. “Wanna go to the festival with me tomorrow, Basil?” asks Fresh.

Basil nods. “I think we can find the time for that,” nods Basil back to her.

Fresh smiles, looking around.

Well, okay then. It looks like it’s time to sleep then.

Shrugging, she takes her shawl off and drapes it over the crystal-ball, before heading downstairs herself to get ready to sleep.

It is the afternoon of the next day.

“Hey Muldrich,” says Fresh, peeking out of the door. “You want any lunch?”

“Are you trying to bribe me?” asks the guard, turning his head towards her.

Fresh blinks. “No,” she answers. This time it’s true. “I just want to know if you want lunch,” she says, shrugging. “You didn’t bring anything, right?”

The man turns his head forward. “No, thank you.”

Fresh shrugs. “Okay. Let us know if you need anything,” she says, looking out at the snow-covered city and then at the man’s metal armor.

She heads back inside. Muldrich is really all business.

Speaking of. Business is a little slower today. The festival is going to be opening tonight, so most of the customers seem to have pulled back, perhaps intent on spending their money there rather than in any of the local businesses.

That being said, people might also just be starting to tighten their belts more now.

Fresh sighs, looking around at the empty store. Jubilee is sitting behind the counter, tapping against it with a bored finger. Basil and Shamrock are upstairs, getting material ready for Fresh to finish up their bedroom wall with.

“What about you, Jubilee?” asks Fresh. “Lunch?”

Jubilee shrugs. “Don’t care. I’m too bored to be hungry.”

Fresh thinks for a moment. “Usually, when I’m bored, it’s the other way around for me. So I get hungry.”

Jubilee nods, lifting a finger and poking her. “Yeah, it shows.”

“Rude!”

“What’s rude is that you’re going to eat us out of house and home and we’ll starve before the winter is over,” says Jubilee.

“We’re not doing that bad,” replies Fresh.

Jubilee nods. “Yet.”

“So, you wanna go to the festival later?” asks Fresh. “There’s no business anyways.”

“Nah.”

“Jubileeee~!” pleads Fresh. “Pleeease?”

Jubilee sighs. “We’ve already been to one festival together. Why would I go to a second one with you?” they ask. “My moral obligations are fulfilled.”

“That’s not how friendship works,” argues Fresh.

Jubilee shrugs. “Ask Muldrich. Maybe he’ll go with you.”

Fresh blinks, leaning back out of the door.

“Hey Muldrich?” she asks. “Do you wanna go to the festival with us later?”

The man turns his head to look at her, before staring back straight ahead. “No, thank you,” replies the guard.

Fresh shrugs, going back to Jubilee. “Muldrich doesn’t want to go.”

Jubilee rolls their eyes.

A lot of people seem to be getting the sniffles lately.

Fresh watches as Basil runs around the aisles, helping the fourth person today who has come in, looking for a budget friendly remedy.

Maybe they should eat something wholesome again tonight? Something to keep themselves nourished and healthy. It would be bad if they got sick.

She sighs, staring out of the window to the festival that is starting to fill up. It’s going to open in a few hours, shortly before the evening starts.

Fresh tilts her head and scratches her cheek, hoping that it’s going to go better than the last festival that was held here.