When I step off the carriage at the transport hub coming back from the Duke’s castle, I quickly head to the market for some ingredients to make pretzels for the security guard waiting back home.

“Big sister Tina~” a cheery voice peaks from a short distance and I turn around to see a green-haired boy, still green as grass. If you don’t remember, this is the little two-faced psychopath that ruined a woman’s face and marriage life just because she raised her hand towards Aria.

It looks like I’ll have to put on another show… If this was an RPG world, my talent section on my specs sheet would have “Advanced Level Acting Skills” under it.

“Oh it’s you.” I grin, ruffling his unkempt green tuffs of hair. “Sorry I don’t have any sweets on me today.”

“You don’t have to treat me like I’m a debt collector for candy.” He pouts. “I am capable of starting a conversation without asking for sweets. You only see me as a kid. I’m a man!”

“Is that so?” I pinch his cheeks teasingly like a doting sister would to her younger brother. “Then what does this big man want to talk to me about?”

“Do you know if big sister Aria is home today? She said she’d make me cake this week. I’m heading there so we can go together?”

So it’s about desserts in the end! 50% of your whole character design is based on eating sweets. 

“I need to do some shopping first and it might take long. I don't want to trouble you so you should go ahead.”

In other words, leave me alone.

“It’s okay. I’ll help you carry stuff.” He flexes his lean arms and pats his non-existent biceps. “See my muscles? I’m strong!”

I believe him. No, it’s not sarcastic. Stories are written to describe that even the most lean main characters are able to display unnatural amount of strength. Even if they’re described to be strong, they wouldn’t want the male leads to be muscle hunks. So fuck anatomy, each muscle fibre just have to give 100x output. 

“That’s reassuring.” I nod with a satisfied look. My innards are crying. Leave me alone wuuuwuuuwuu.

After filling my basket with flour, egg and sugar with the fastest speed I’ve shopped so far, I glance at the boy by my side chewing on candy. His hands tucked into his pockets, his glittery green eyes appeals to shop owners for free food.

What happened to carrying my shopping, you lil shit?

Turning a corner to exit the market and head home, my eyes land on a strange purple tent sitting right by the gate. This wasn't here before. Sitting under the shadow of the tall wooden fence demarcating the market’s boundaries, its solidarity and the lack of footfall makes it look darkly mysterious in broad daylight. The stars and moon patterns on the roof of the tent already gives me an eerie feeling in my stomach.

“Let’s leave from the north exit.” I tug on the green boy’s green shirt. He looks at me quizzically.

“But there’s an exit right in front of us.”

“Yes, but I forgot to buy something important near the north exit.”

“But it’s so far away!” He pouts, his puffy cheeks and big round eyes showing a pitiful face. “My legs hurt.”

???? What happened to your strong muscles?

“Why don’t you go ahead alone to Aria? Our houses should be close now.”

“No! Big sister Tina, come with meeeee” He pulls on my dress, throwing a tantrum. The surrounding shoppers start looking at the commotion, several of them thinking ‘who’s bullying this cute boy?!’ 

He’s the one bullying me!! You little psychopath don’t drag me into your mess! Can I kick him? Should I kick him?

Grabbing my hand and pulling towards the exit with his (uselessly strong) strength, I was forcefully dragged behind him. 

Upon reaching the gate front, an old raspy voice calls from within the purple tent. Behind the lace curtains, you can make out a blurry silhouette of a frail old woman with hair resembling an untamed lion’s mane.

“How strange.” the frail woman says. “Your future is murky because your soul’s impure.”

This is why I didn’t want to encounter shamans. It doesn’t matter whether if they’re a fraud or if they’re spouting bullshit, their words in this world have an effect to foreshadow the events which will come in the future. Their words are rules.

“Me?” The green boy tilts his head in confusion. “I’m very pure!”

The fuck you are.

“Not you, the girl.” At this moment, the curtains were drawn and a table appears with a cloud of hazy mist from the lighted incense candles. A glowing glass ball sits at the centre, many tarot cards sprawled across the table in a messy but organised manner.

“Do you want to know more about your future?” She asks the two of us.

“No.” I deny immediately.

“You’ll be the first customers I receive today. It’s free.” She insists.

You have a very bad profit-making business, ma’am.

“Interesting.” The green-haired boy comments, his eyes turning unnecessarily sharp. He no longer gives a cutesy playful aura. He walks briskly towards the shaman and leans into the glass ball. His high-pitched feminine voice disappears and a baritone voice emerges from his larynx instead. “How would you tell the future when you have no idea who I really am?”

Unfazed by his change in demeanour, the old woman just waves her hand over the ball, making ripples in the white foggy haze. The glass ball glows and dims under her hands.

“You have too much blood on your hands. In the past, everyone you love have left you behind. In the future, everyone you adore will betray you. The path ahead of you is lonesome and desolate.”

Holy shit.

Bro you triggered that yourself. I told you we should have left the other way.

“And you.” She turns towards me who’s still standing a couple steps away. “You’re going to dance with death in the future.”

At these words, a recognisable music starts playing in my head and a video loops in my mind. What flashed right before my eyes as I stood at the very spot was the familiar scene of Ghana pallbearers dancing away... carrying my body in a casket.

I should’ve kicked that green idiot and ran for the north exit.