“I went to see her…like they said I should, but I never could have—I did not understand what I was getting myself into. Had I known, I fear I would not have had the strength to make the trek up the mountain and face the evils along the way. Now, madness stretches across my mind. Beware, beware the Fortune Teller!”

from the last ramblings of Carlyle the Red.

Nothing had changed inside Rathborne’s cottage, but at the same time, everything had. Something had shifted in his demeanor, but it was beyond me to explain it. The closest thing I could come up with was the feeling you get when a window has been left open and you are just beginning to feel a chill without realizing it. I felt as though I’d just stepped into a secret ceremony as I sat again on the warm slab of stone beside the fire—and waited.

Rathborne’s eyes never faltered. They locked onto me with purpose and stayed there. I wanted to say something, but it was not my time to speak.

So, I waited.

“Rand,” he said finally. “I saw something in you when you first arrived at my home. You know that, don’t you?”

My mind didn’t even allow me to think. I simply nodded. “Yes.”

“The cape cloak you wear now is a direct result of that,” he explained. “But—but now I fear what I have seen in you, and I fear it because I believe I know what now lies ahead of you.”

Again, I waited. What could I possibly say?

“There exists an ancient tale in this land. A tale so old none of us seem to know its origins, but it speaks of a Seeker with a great destiny, a Seeker with a singular purpose that will not only change him, but the very world around him. A Seeker that will bring about the Awakening.”

“The Awakening?” I asked, finally finding something to latch onto amidst the storm of confusion that rampaged around me. “What is that?”

“The old stories are unclear.” Rathborne frowned. “But it is of great importance. All will be affected, never to be the same again. We have all been told to be on the lookout for this Seeker, and after hearing what you have told me this day—I believe I have found him.”

A very unsettled feeling came over me as Rathborne spoke.

Found him? He’s talking about me!

I looked at my arms, and sure enough—goose bumps. It was like I was speaking to a prophet, a preacher, a man of unfathomable wisdom who had singled me out of everyone in the universe for some reason. An unseen beam of light had spotlighted me for some reason and I wanted to think my way out of the world immediately. But this was Rathborne. He deserved more than that, and although I was uncomfortable beyond explanation, I wanted to hear what he had to say.

“Found him,” I said slowly, trying desperately to take some form of ownership over his words that had terrified me. He nodded, readjusting the stovepipe hat atop his head.

“I cannot offer you more than that, Rand, and for that I am sorry,” he continued. “I cannot give you solace on your visions, but I believe you are correct. I believe this monolith may hold answers for you, but I am not the one to give them to you.”

The way he said “the one” stood out to me. “Are you saying there is someone who can give me answers?”

I’d yet to see it, but Rathborne hesitated before he answered. It wasn’t because he was thinking hard or trying to remember something; it was because he didn’t want to say what he said next.

“Rathborne?”

“The Fortune Teller,” he said, as though the words were a sickness on his tongue.

“The Fortune Teller?”

“Are you going to repeat back to me my every word, boy?” His fit of rage shocked me as he rose from his chair so quickly it knocked it over onto the floor. I felt like a kid again being shouted at by Principal Druthers. Rathborne recovered instantly after seeing the look on my face, but his explosive anger had been enough to give me a glimpse into the man that had been a fierce Seeker in his day. His hands, weathered but still strong, gripped the mantle of the hearth as he composed himself.

“Forgive me. That was…wrong of me.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I’d come here for answers, but I felt as though I’d been thrown from a cliff into black waters in the dead of night, with not a single star in the sky to guide me. Rathborne seemed to be unraveling before my eyes, fighting against something that he knew and I did not understand.

“Rathborne. Just tell me,” I told him, getting to my feet. “I can see it’s hard for you, but I can take it.”

“That’s the thing, boy…I wonder if you can.”

“Don’t say that to me,” I replied firmly. “I’m not a boy and I need to know what’s going on if I’m going to do something about…all of this.”

Rathborne’s support for me had been unwavering, like a steel ladder forged into the sheer wall of an impassable cliff, but there was a real concern in his eyes now, as though what he said next would bring upon some kind of responsibility in him—a responsibility that terrified him.

The old man looked at me with sad, tired eyes. A bitter crescendo swept through the cottage, unseen, announcing the importance of the man’s next words.

“The Fortune Teller that resides at the base of Mount Jadanus. She—she will be the only one with answers for you.”

“Should I be worried, Rathborne?” I asked, feeling comfort in the weight of my axe as I let it hang by my side.

The old man’s lips pursed as he fought back emotion. “You should. But not for the reasons you might think.”

“Is she high level?”

“The Fortune Teller does not abide by the same laws of this world as the rest of us,” Rathborne replied. “She is a foundation of this world. An indestructible pillar that will never fall. Your fight will not be with her, but with yourself.”

Rathborne’s right hand fidgeted, almost trembled, before joining his left as he held his cane, leaning on it like an old friend. For some reason, in that moment, I wished to see the blade concealed within the dark wood.

“That sounds like a riddle,” I said finally. “I’ve never liked riddles.”

“If only it were just that,” Rathborne tapped his cane against the hard stone beneath us. “You must keep your wits about you, son.”

“Can’t you tell me anything more?”

Rathborne shook his head. “I cannot. It is simply the way of things.”

I didn’t understand, but there was no point in arguing—I could see that. Instead, I waited, hoping he would add say something more, give me something to go out, but he did not. Every second that ticked away was a second wasted.

“Okay, old man,” I said, breaking the silence. “You take care of yourself while I’m gone.”

Rathborne’s eyes met mine. “Take the road beyond the Swollen Cemetery. North of Ebonmire, past the Ruins of Londorin. There you will find the Mountain and the Fortune Teller,” he paused and took a breath. “I will see you again.”

He extended his hand, and I took it. His shake was firm, almost painful, and I felt the same way I’d felt when I said goodbye to Rey, knowing we’d still be in touch, but that our friendship would never be the same again.

Don’t let this be like that.

When he released my hand, I turned away and swiftly left the cottage.

The rays of morning light trying to force their way through the ever present cloud cover angered me for some reason. Maybe it was a metaphor I didn’t completely understand, but I almost wished for the return of the rain as I made my way back to the Weeping Hills.

Altarus and Fujiko weren’t coming with me. They couldn’t. Whatever this insane quest I was on was, I couldn’t let it affect anyone else. First Rey, now Jacob. It wasn’t their responsibility to bear the perverse cross that had been thrust upon my shoulders when the visions started. I hoped when I arrived at town that they’d be gone, back to the cemetery or Ebonmire on their own adventures, but after nodding to Alastor and stepping back into the center of town, I saw them both waiting right where I’d left them.

“Look who’s back,” Fujiko said irritably, rubbing her elbow against Alastor’s side. She was annoyed, and rightly so.

“Where did you go?” he asked me simply.

“To talk to an old friend,” I replied, just as simply. “But now I have to go.”

“Have to go where?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” I told him. “But I’m going alone.”

“Bullshit you are!” Fujiko stepped up to me in a way that made me think she was going to hit me. She didn’t, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t. “You know what it took for us to hunt you down and find you? Bring you to our lab? You’re only here now because of us, and if you think you’re going to head off on your own, on some cliché solo mission because it’s better for us, you’re sadly mistaken!”

Despite my mood, it was impossible not to smile. I glanced beyond her at Altarus, who simply shrugged as if to say, “You should listen to her.” In her eyes, I saw she was just begging for me to disagree with her so she could straighten me out, but she was right. I wouldn’t even be back in game if it wasn’t for them, and if they wanted to come along with me, that was their choice, not mine.

“Fine. But if you slow me down, don’t expect me to wait up for you.” It was a bit of a spiteful jab, but also a bit of a joke, but also a bit of the truth. I heard her huff and almost puff as I brushed past her, but she followed—they both did.