I walked through the market, looking at all the trinkets and fineries for sale. There were scarves and jewelry, baskets and flowers, and foods of all sorts. There was a gypsy caravan near by with a lady advertising a show.
"Good day miss. I can't help but notice you seemed troubled," an old lady said from behind me. She was sitting outside of her shop. "Merlin's Magic" the sign read.
"Who, me?" I asked pointing to myself. She nodded and motioned for me to come in. I looked around to see incenses, herbs, pendants, fortune telling cards, boxes, scarves, bags, candles, pictures, gazing balls, dolls, stones, and other mystical things. The lady smiled. She had dozens of bracelets, rings, and pendants on. She had one necklace that caught my eye. A silver pentagram in a ring. This worried me. She must be a devil worshiper.
"What is troubling you dear? A lover? Or maybe a friend who doesn't know of your love and may love another?" she asked innocently. My blood ran cold. She was spot on.
"Yes, but how did," I began. She cut me off.
"I know? I have for seen your arrival. A young psychic you are, yes? I can help with that and your friend," she said coming closer. She looked up at me and seemed to examine me.
"Help? I don't need help, but thank you," I said, turning to leave. She caught my arm. I turned to face her, I was terrified.
"I am not a devil worshiper, if that's what you're thinking. This pentagram represents the elements. Earth, Air, Spirit, Water, and Fire. Pentagrams are positive, if used correctly. Come and sit. You have much to learn," she explained. She sat me down at a table in the middle of the store.
"Ma'am, I don't mean to seem rude, but," I started. She cut me off again.
"Your talents are being wasted. You must learn to use them correctly, in order to protect your sister. Many would want to see both of you dead," she said, picking up a small violet bag made of silk. My heart stopped and my blood went cold, again.
"How did you know of my sister?" I asked. She looked back at me and smiled.
"Scarlet, you must realize you could know me as well as I know you, if you develop your talents," she said, examining a silver bag, but then putting it back for another. She continued to go around collecting various objects. Several stones, candles, a spell book, an indigo scarf, a chart, several spices, and other items. She set them down on the table in front of me. The chart worried me, for it had a pentagram and some writing underneath.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but some one is waiting for me," I said getting up.
"Sit child. I know you're lying," the woman said sternly. She got some incense called "Elven Dreams" and emptied some out. I quickly sat down. She wafted some of the incense towards her and looked satisfied. She quickly struck two rocks together and a spark flew onto the green powder. The room filled with an earthy scent. This both comforted and worried me. My head began to hurt a bit and she smiled.
"It stimulates the psychic energy. This incense should make your visions come to you on command. Your head aches should clear up after around five visions," she explained. Soon enough, I received a vision. "What are you seeing Scarlet?"
"Juliet, she has sprouted wings. She's holding Romeo in her arms and he's... dead? I feel like the ground is falling. Juliet! Romeo!" I cried. They were gone. I couldn't let this happen. I looked up at the woman.
"They will forever be remembered as the unfortunate lovers," she replied. I felt tears come to my eyes. Not little Juliet. Not her, please not her. She's too young to die.
"She and Romeo can't die. I won't let it happen!" I screamed at her.
"The future can not be changed," she responded calmly.
"Yes it can. I stopped many deaths because of a premonition. I can stop this one. I can't let Juliet die. Damn the stone future. We can all choose our own paths," I responded. I rarely lost my composer. Now would be a perfect example.
"It is their destiny."
"Screw destiny. The future is a blank page, lady. We write our own futures," I spat, then stormed out of the shop. I was going to stop her death, even if it meant writing my own.