The festival was finally here, and Aisling’s last minute addition to the festivities was almost ready. Though she had definitely planned to stop in and take part in other events, she had spent most of the day getting herself ready. Fortune-telling would only be a playful lark, for she had no true clairvoyance, but she had once met an old druid in her homeland who had the sight and knew enough of the trappings to make and exciting game of it. Her magic would be key and the little enchantress would draw on her imagination and maybe a little careful observation to create some entertainment for the Festival.

She had put much care into preparing her space, claiming a small clearing near where the other events would take place. The open space was flanked by tall pines that formed a rough circle and here she had made a smaller circle of small bonfires. Set in shallow pits, the the seven little fires where well stacked with wood she had spent hours collecting and as dusk settle had bee lit with help from a herd mate. On the fires she had placed bundles of sage, cherry bark, juniper, and other herbs and they gave the smoke a heady, lulling scent as it wafted through the clearing. Hidden in a hollow in one of the surrounding pines, her flute played a slow, quite tune, adding to the mystic atmosphere.

Aisling had dressed for the occasion too. Her long mane hung loose and wild along her shoulder and across her white body traced thin lines of blue in strange shaped and symbols. The most dramatic of these was a thick bar that wrapped across her stormy grey eyes and was topped with an upturned crescent that rested upon her brow. With her diminutive size, she looked more a fae than ever and was more than ready for a little mischief. With her scene set, she waited for the sky to grow dark until the could stand in the circle she cast, the shifting orange light creating a rather pleasing dramatic effect. 

When she spoke, she altered the timber of her voice, making it slower, lower, and much more throaty than her usual ringing bells and she called into the night. “Welcome, my dears. Tonight, as we gather under the Aurora, let us cast our eyes toward the future, perhaps the spirits will aid us in finding both foresight and insight.” She smiled at the gathered ones, a sly beguiling grin, and then strode slowly around the circle, flicking her tail above the flames of each little pyre to stir the smoke and chanting as she went:

“Spirits of our hallowed earth
that follow us to death from birth
join us in this time and place
to tell what we’ll come to face
Bring these visions unto me
as I will so mote it be!”

As her chant ended, the theatrical little witchling returned to the center of her circle and bowed her head to the others, inviting them forward. Never dropping the knowing smile, Aisling let her gaze fall on each of the gathered, a daring gleam in her eyes. “If you will it, then come forward. Step into the circle with me and we shall see what the spirits have to say of your future."