Aug. 27, Granville Island, Vancouver; Late Afternoon

It was the last week of August. School would be starting again in only a few weeks. In a last-ditch effort to make her summer worth at least something, a young woman in high school decided to check out a festival going on at the idyllic Granville Island.

She was carrying around a handful of shopping bags, but there was no one else actually with her. She sat down to reflect on the things she'd bought. She bought a small box of macarons; her favourite hard-to-find treat. She also bought a small keychain with a sitting black cat on it. Something about the cat's unforgiving glare drew her to the overpriced keychain.

She had a little bit more money to spend before it would start cutting into her savings, so she decided she might as well spend the rest of it. There was a charming fortune teller's tent by the pier. As she walked over to the tent, skeptical but down for a fun experience, she noticed water buses transporting passengers across the small canal between the island and the highway. She entered the tent, looking around curiously.

"Good afternoon, child," the fortune teller greeted. The girl looked in the fortune teller's direction. It was a man. His age was somewhere in the range of semi-early-adulthood. He wasn't really dressed like a typical eccentric fortune teller. He wore a violet tuxedo, and silky lavender gloves. There was a violet top head on his head, too, and his hair was dark brunette, not quite brown but close.

"H-hi," she said with an awkward smile.

"Don't be shy," said the fortune teller. "I don't bite." He chuckled. "Take a seat."

So, the girl did.

"What's your name?" the fortune teller asked.

"Heather," she answered. "Heather Holland."

"Heather," the man commented. "A lovely name."

"Thanks," she blushed awkwardly. "How much is a reading?"

"I already put my cash box away, so I'll treat you to one on the house- or, on the tent, if you will," offered the man.

"N-no, really, you don't have to do that for me," Heather gasped.

"Nonsense, it's my offer," insisted the reader. "Besides, it looks like you're a bit lonely today."

"Well… all right… hit me up," she agreed.

He pulled out a deck of cards. "Tarot," he explained. "As you can see," he continued, shuffling the deck, "the order of the cards is completely random. Do you have any questions you'd like answered?"

"Well… yeah…" she sighed. "Um, where do I go from here? I've been feeling… unsure of myself."

"I can answer that. How many cards shall we draw today?"

"Um… you do you," Heather chuckled.

"All right," said the man. "Since I was about to close my shop, I'll do a short reading. How's three cards sound?"

"Um… all right," Heather nodded.

The fortune teller began pulling cards from the top of the deck. Once three were on the table, he turned them all over.

The first card portrayed some crowned figure on a thrown, who held a sword in one hand and an old-timey weighing scale in the other. However, it looked like it was upside down. Was that an oversight by the teller?

The second card portrayed a figure in a draping robe, who stood behind a table with many things on it. The table's legs were entwined in a bed of multiple types of flowers.

The third card portrayed some carefree man standing with his arms open into the sunlight. There was a pale flower in his hand.

"The first card drawn almost always is used to determine what had happened in the past to lead up to this point," explained the teller. "I tend to read it the same way. The card I've drawn is the Major Arcana card called Justice. However, it's inverted."

"Oh, so it's not just upside down?" she asked.

"Indeed not," he continued. "Its inverted position tells me that there is something wrong. There is injustice in your life. You probably feel that it is unjust, and I would wager that you're right to feel that way. I feel that it must be rather recent."

"Wow…" Heather acknowledged.

"It's intimidatingly accurate, huh?" chuckled the teller. He went on. "The second card, in this situation, will be used to gauge where you currently are in your life journey. The card in that position is the Magician card. It represents, in your case, what I perceive to be balance, and the role you play in maintaining the balance of… well, maybe not yourself, and maybe not others, maybe it's something in between."

"Mhm…" she mumbled.

"The final card is the one I will use to answer your question: where should you go from here?" the man claimed. "The card is The Fool. Hm…" he put a finger to his chin in thought. "Perhaps you should pursue… no… no, I know. The Fool will come to you, yes." The fortune teller moved his hair out from his eyes and looked at Heather with a confident look. "You will encounter a Fool of which no one can identify. Keep an eye on him, mysterious as he will be."

Aug. 27, Granville Island Skytrain Station, Vancouver; Evening

Heather had barely made it to the skytrain before it took off. She stumbled onboard, nearly tripping and falling over into the middle of the aisle. The school she attended had sponsored the students' admission to the festival, so the skytrain was full of familiar faces. As she tried to regain her balance and catch her breath, a multitude of the other passengers laughed under their breaths. Nobody attempted to help her. With an embarrassed expression, she walked through the aisle, looking for an available seat. She found one. It was next to Samantha, one of her old friends. She moved in to take a seat. But then, the girl put her shopping bags on the chair next to her, glaring up at Heather with all of her intentions burning through her gaze. Heather internally swore, but kept going down the aisle. Every free seat she saw was either already claimed by a bag of some kind, or swiftly was occupied by one. Other students glared at her, as if to say "Don't you dare try and sit next to me."

She got all the way to the back of the skytrain, feeling incredibly defeated. Then, the guy sitting there picked up his bag kindly and placed it on his lap. He looked up at Heather. However, his eyes were soft, and silently inviting. Heather smiled, and awkwardly sat down. "Thanks," she smiled.

"You're welcome," he responded.

Heather immediately noticed that she didn't recognize this guy from her class, or from any of the hallways. Of course, she knew there were other schools in town - Vancouver was absolutely not a small town - but with all the other students on the bus being familiar to her, she figured he must be among them, right?

"I don't think we've met," she said.

"Nope, I doubt it. I'm Thorne," he explained. "I'm not from here, actually. I'm going to Goldhelm for the rest of my high school education. It's… kind of a long story."

"Oh, well, I won't pry," Heather responded. "I'm Heather." She reached out her hand.

Thorne did too, and they shook hands.

Wow, Heather thought. Someone who doesn't despise me?

"Well, it'll be a long skytrain ride, I might as well talk about it. Unless you'd rather not."

"No, no, please. Go ahead!"

The boy began to explain his situation. "Well, I'm actually from a town right on the border of B.C. and Alberta. I'm actually super new to Vancouver. I'm staying with my grandfather right now. It's not very well that I can live my with parents now, anyway…"

Aug. 27, Location Unverified; Time Unverified

There was a dark room. It was lit with the faint blue light of a myriad of screens positioned all over the walls. There was a big, curved control panel of some sort, and a large, glamorous executive chair in the middle of the room, which, with a swivel, had a perfect view of all the screens. There was a tall, shadowed figure in the chair.

There was also a shadowed figure, this one feminine, in the doorway, the light from the outside hall casting so strongly that none of their features could be made out.

"Yes?" said the large figure in the chair. "What have you come to my office for?"

"Sir, progress on the application is nearly complete. It should be ready for launch by the weekend, if everything remains on track."

"That's good news," said the seated man.

"Indeed!" she upspoke. "It's ridiculous to think a simple app would take this long to program… though, I suppose our app is anything but simple."

"Indeed not. Such technology takes precision and special equipment to make, and to replicate. Though, once it's finally finished, modern day society will be as good as ours."