KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess
Chapter 109: [109] Et Quidam Qui Protagonistam Agnoscunt

Chapter 109: [109] Et Quidam Qui Protagonistam Agnoscunt

Xavier rounded another corner, lips tightening as the frozen fountain came into view again—third time he’d passed it. He muttered a curse under his breath. Naomi’s scribbled directions were worthless in this tangled maze of Vykengard’s lower districts.

"Third right past the tannery... then second left at the stone wolf," he repeated.

But there are two tanneries. And no stone wolf anywhere.

A dull throb pulsed behind his eyes, pulling his mind toward Hearthome even as his feet wandered these cold, alien streets. The headache wasn’t sharp enough to stop him—just enough to wear down his patience, layer by layer.

The tenth bell had rung nearly half an hour ago. Naomi would be waiting, perhaps growing nervous about his absence. Or worse, thinking he’d abandoned her.

Xavier paused at a crossroads, three equally uninviting streets branching out. The buildings here were packed tightly together, their upper stories nearly touching across the narrow lanes. Few windows showed light at this hour, and the streets were largely empty, most sensible people having retreated from the cold.

He considered returning to The Golden Fox to ask for directions, but quickly dismissed the idea. If Naomi’s employer was as possessive as she’d suggested, drawing attention to her home would only create problems.

A gust of wind came through, carrying stinging snow that made him duck his head. Through the swirling white, Xavier spotted a warm glow several buildings down—not the harsh light of a tavern, but something softer, more inviting.

As he drew closer, he saw it was a tent, oddly placed between two stone buildings. Canvas walls glowed amber from within, and wisps of fragrant smoke escaped from a small opening at the top. A wooden sign hung beside the entrance, painted with symbols he didn’t recognize.

The tent seemed out of place in the permanent architecture of Vykengard, yet it appeared well-established, with a small wooden platform raising it above the snowy ground and sturdy ropes anchoring it against the wind.

The cold made his decision for him. He pushed aside the heavy fabric door and stepped inside.

Warmth enveloped him immediately, along with the sweet, spicy scent of burning herbs. The tent’s interior was much larger than it had appeared from outside, filled with cushions, hanging fabrics, and small tables covered in curious objects. A brazier burned at the center, its smoke rising to the opening he’d spotted from the street.

"Welcome, traveler," said a voice from the shadows. "You look lost."

A woman stepped into the light. She appeared to be in her thirties, with short brown hair and eyes the color of honey. She wore a heavy coat despite the warmth inside, and a wide-brimmed hat sat at an angle on her head.

"I am," Xavier admitted, seeing no point in denial. "I’m trying to find an address."

"Many are lost in Vykengard," she said, gesturing to a cushion opposite her own. "Please, sit. Warm yourself."

Xavier remained standing. "I appreciate the offer, but I’m in a hurry."

"Your friend will wait." The woman smiled at his surprised expression. "It doesn’t take a seer to know a man hurrying through the snow after the tenth bell is meeting someone precious."

She had a point. Xavier took a step closer to the brazier, holding his hands out to the heat.

"I can help you find your way," she said, "but first, would you like a reading?"

"A reading?"

She gestured to a small table where a deck of cards lay. "The cards show paths, possibilities. For some, they reveal what might be. For others, what must be avoided."

"Ah. Tarot." Xavier nearly said "scam" but caught himself. After all, Rachel claimed to be a seer, and he’d seen enough evidence of her abilities to give her some credence. Perhaps in this world, such things held power.

Still, he had enough complications without adding more prophecies to the mix.

"I don’t have money for readings," he said.

The woman’s smile widened. "Many important men like yourself are fated in one way or another. Some try to fight it from the shadows, while others play the fool." She tilted her head. "Aren’t you curious which one you’ll be?"

A chill that had nothing to do with the weather ran down Xavier’s spine. "I really need to go."

"Humor me," she said, gesturing to the chair across from her small table. "Shuffle the cards, cut the deck. Do this simple thing, and I’ll give you exact directions to your friend’s home. No money required."

Xavier hesitated. "No cost at all?"

"None whatsoever." She sat and waited, hands folded on the table.

After a moment’s consideration, Xavier joined her. The sooner he played along, the sooner he’d get directions to Naomi. He picked up the deck, surprised by its weight and the quality of the cards—not paper, but something more like thin pieces of polished wood, their edges smooth from years of handling.

"Shuffle them how you will," she instructed.

Xavier shuffled the cards, their surfaces warming in his hands. The images were unlike any tarot deck he’d seen before—strange symbols, figures draped in ice and fire, beasts with crystal fur. He cut the deck and placed it back on the table.

The woman smiled, fingers hovering over the deck. "Shall we see what paths lie before Xavier Valentine?"

How the fuck does she know my name?

"How do you—" She cut him off with a knowing look. "The same way I know you’re not from Frostfall."

Slowly, she drew a card and laid it face up. A figure tumbled through a star-speckled void, swallowed by darkness.

"The Traveler," she whispered. "One who walks between worlds. You didn’t choose this road—but it chose you."

The next card slid forward—an enormous heart locked in ice, fractures spiderwebbing its surface.

"Frozen Heart," she murmured. "What you chase, even if it hides from you."

Another card appeared—two figures back to back, bound by a thread glowing faintly in the dim light.

She tapped the card gently. "The Bond. Stronger than time, stronger than worlds. It pulls at you... I can see it. That ache you carry."

Xavier said nothing, but his silence seemed answer enough.

She drew a fourth card, placing it below the first. This one showed a crown surrounded by seven stars.

"The Crowned Stars. You have a role to play here, parts in a story written long before you arrived."

The final card she placed to the left of the center. It depicted a figure holding scales, one side weighted with snow, the other with fire.

"The Choice." Her voice softened. "Every story has one. Yours will come when you stand before the Heart of Winter. What you decide there will determine not just your fate, but that of this entire realm."

Xavier stared at the cards, their images seeming to shift in the flickering light. "I just want to find my friends and go home."

"Perhaps that’s possible. Perhaps not." She gathered the cards back into the deck. "The path to Hearthome will be dangerous, but necessary. The one you seek is there, though she too wears another’s face."

"Calypso," Xavier said.

"Names have power here," the woman warned. "Be careful how you use them."

She rose and moved to a small desk, where she quickly sketched a map on a scrap of parchment. "Your friend lives here," she said, marking an X. "Take these streets, avoid the main thoroughfare where the Rimeguard patrol. You should reach her within fifteen minutes if you hurry."

Xavier took the map, studying the directions. When he looked up to thank her, the words died in his throat.

The woman’s skin was glowing but the most alarming part were her eyes. They were no longer honey-brown, they glowed a soft gold, pupils contracted to vertical slits like a cat’s.

"What are you?" he asked quietly.

"Someone who knows the value of a good story." She smiled, revealing teeth that seemed just slightly too sharp. "Et quidam qui protagonistam agnoscunt cum eum vident."

What the hell?

Xavier backed toward the entrance. "The directions—are they real?"

"Of course. I keep my bargains." She settled back onto her cushion. "One last thing, Xavier Valentine. When you reach Hearthome, seek the temple archives. The answers about the Heart of Winter wait there."

Xavier nodded, clutching the map as he stepped through the tent flap. Once outside, he looked back, half-expecting the tent to have vanished. But it remained, golden light spilling from within, smoke curling from its peak.

The tent still stood, its amber glow spilling onto the snow, smoke spiraling into the dark sky like whispered secrets.

He unfolded the map, tracing the marked streets with a finger. The path was clear now.

A breath of wind pushed at his back as he folded the parchment away and vanished into the night.