The next lesson took place in the study.
A wooden table was draped in a deep indigo cloth, embroidered with golden symbols that shimmered faintly in the dim candlelight. At its center sat a large, shallow bowl of water, its surface still as glass. A set of polished stones, a deck of cards, and a bundle of dried herbs were neatly arranged beside it.
Vell stood at the table, arms crossed, as he watched today's student enter. The divination witch was a tall, willowy girl with unfocused eyes.
She carried herself with little confidence. Her hands tucked into the sleeves of her flowing robe.
She studied the setup and fidgeted slightly. "Are you going to tell me my future?"
Vell raised an eyebrow. "You already had your future told by Targe."
"Okay..."
He just nodded and said, "Divination is a strange art. Without star magic or personal power, the future is... let's just say, fickle or even more fickle, because I don't believe much in it. Other than that, it's not about certainty. It's about insight. Patterns. Possibilities. Take a seat."
Vell gestured to the items before them. "Divination takes many forms. Some methods rely on tools, some on intuition. We'll start simple." He picked up the bundle of dried herbs and tossed it onto the table. The brittle stems and leaves scattered into a haphazard pattern. "Tell me what you see."
The witch leaned forward, her eyes scanning the arrangement. She ran a finger over a particularly twisted stem, her brow furrowing.
She hesitated, then exhaled. "In one of the books, I've read that—"
"Don't tell me what you've read. Tell me what you see."
"But—"
"No buts."
She took another moment. 'It almost looks like... a serpent. Coiled up. Waiting."
Vell nodded. "And what does that mean to you?"
"Patience. A threat that hasn't struck yet."
"Not bad. At least you already sound like an oracle," Vell said. "Divination is about interpreting symbols, and symbols are personal. The same pattern might mean different things to different people. You could be completely wrong, just so you know. It could be a snake, or a worm, or a noodle for all we know. Maybe it's nothing at all."
He picked up the deck of cards and shuffled them with practiced ease. "Now, let's see about your own fate."
He fanned out the cards and nodded for her to pick one. She hesitated, hovering over the spread before finally plucking a single card. Turning it over, she revealed an intricate illustration of a figure standing at a crossroads, two paths stretching into the unknown.
Vell tapped the card. "The Seeker. A symbol of choice, uncertainty, and potential."
Sonder, who had blended into the background of the room, just observing the lesson, tilted her head. "Fitting."
"Why?" the witch asked.
She hesitated before answering. "Well, because you and the others are still searching for your place in the world, right?"
Vell gave a small smile. "Exactly. But please, Sonder, don't answer for them, alright? They need to learn this fast, not you."
He motioned to the bowl of water. "One last lesson. Scrying. Focus on the water's surface. Let your mind quiet. Don't force it—just observe. If you have a natural ability for the art, then you'll see something."
She leaned over the bowl, staring into the still water. At first, she saw nothing but her own reflection.
Then, slowly, the candlelight seemed to shift. She saw movement. A flash of something—someone.
A familiar figure.
Just as quickly as it came, the vision faded, and the water was still once more.
The witch blinked, sitting back.
Vell watched her closely, his gaze sharp with curiosity. "You saw something," he said. "What was it?"
She hesitated. Then, with a small shake of her head, she murmured, "I'm not sure."
Her fingers drifted over the scattered herbs, the upturned card, and the bowl's darkened surface. A crease formed between her brows. "I think… it was me."
Vell's lips turned up. "You know," he mused, "divination tends to be clearer for those who are still… maiden."
The witch blushed.