Araon wanted to get drunk.
After fighting off Voidbringers and fleeing a flash flood, he deserved some rest. He would keep a lookout for that runaway Initiate, but he needed a break from the chaos that had permeated his everyday life. The Initiates were slowly disappearing, and Araon hoped be wouldn't be next.
He'd the Pub Seb was good from somewhere, so he began the relatively short journey. The city was really quite beautiful, and Araon hadn't had the chance to enjoy it properly. He ducked into a sort of bazaar, and was instantly rewarded with eye-popping sights and smells ranging from sewage to exotic fruits. He noticed a stall near the back, with a strange glass ball sitting on a bronze pedestal. A wizened old woman sat behind it, eyes squinting to peer into its depths.
Araon smiled, and sauntered over. He had a soft spot for fortune-tellers and apothecaries. His hometown had been infested with them, and he had taken a liking to the profession. He sat down, and slid a sapphire mark across the table. He smiled, humoring her.
"So, what can you tell me about my future?" The woman hardly looked up, but pocketed the mark nonetheless. She squinted even more, before her eyes widened, then subsided.
"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to," she said in a crackly voice. She waved him off, oblivious to his protests. When he looked back, she was still staring into her ball.