She made no stops on Scented Street, heading straight for the hotel with the intention of giving Isis a quiet surprise.
Yet, when she opened the door to their room, it was utterly empty.
The neatly made bed suggested its occupant had already risen and departed, while the teapot on the table sat empty, lending the room an air of disuse.
Extending a hand, Beacai touched the mattress, finding no lingering trace of warmth.
‘Had Mother simply risen early, or…’
A dreadful possibility crossed her mind, causing her spirits to plummet. Gathering her skirt, she slowly descended the stairs, eventually finding the front desk attendant.
“Where has the elf staying here gone?” she inquired.
The attendant, her face etched with weariness from today’s shift, curled a strand of hair around her finger as she recalled the elf in question.
“You mean Miss Isis? She must have gone to the God-Birth Festival celebration, I imagine… Honestly, the festivities have already begun, so why must I still be on duty? I want to join the celebration too!”
Though she hadn’t actually seen Isis that morning, if she wasn’t in the hotel, the only logical place for her to be was at the God-Birth Festival.
Outsiders, especially, would never miss such a grand occasion.
Sensing the uncertainty in the attendant’s voice, Beacai found herself unable to relax. She nodded, then departed the hotel, returning to Scented Street once more.
As it was the God-Birth Festival, most of Prerli’s populace had the day off. Consequently, they thronged Scented Street in groups, reveling in the grand celebration.
In stark contrast to them, Beacai appeared far more solitary, her dark crimson eyes tinged with a hint of loneliness. She walked quietly amidst the crowds, silently searching for Isis.
Whenever her view was obstructed, she would instinctively rise onto her tiptoes, peering around people to glimpse beyond them, terrified that a moment of inattention would lead her to pass Isis by.
In truth, she could have used her divine power to locate Isis. However, out of fear that her mother had truly left the city, and dreading the cruel reality, she chose to search slowly on her own.
‘Perhaps, a miracle might occur.’
After following the stream of people past several snack stalls, she spotted a small booth constructed from unique fabric. A wooden sign, hanging above the entrance, clearly read ‘Fortune Teller’.
‘Fortune-telling?’
Beacai’s usually subdued heart stirred with a rare flicker of interest. She pushed open the door and stepped inside. As the fortune-telling booth had just opened, there were no other patrons, making Beacai its very first customer.
The interior of the booth was draped in fabric painted with a deep blue star-sea. Crystal stars hung from the ceiling, sparkling with golden light, lending the space a beautiful, ethereal, and mysterious aura.
Seated before Beacai was a woman wearing a wide witch’s hat. She was dressed in a white gown, a rather ill-fitting choice for a witch, and a purple crystal ball rested on the table before her.
“Hello there. What would you like to have divined?”
Deliberately lowering her voice, the woman’s fingers moved rhythmically, as if manipulating puppets, which only served to make her witch identity more convincing.
Though Beacai couldn’t see her face, she didn’t delve into it. Her primary purpose in coming here was to inquire about Isis’s whereabouts.
“Could you tell me where my mother has gone?”
“Have *you* gotten lost?”
The witch didn’t ask who her mother was, but rather posed a somewhat nosy, irrelevant question. Beacai remained silent for a few seconds before refuting, “No, *she* got lost.”
“Alright.”
Whether it was Beacai’s imagination or not, she thought she heard the witch before her let out a soft chuckle. Yet, before she could properly recall the sound, she saw the woman’s hands glide over the crystal ball.
The purple essence within the crystal ball remained unchanged by her touch. As if a thought had struck her, the witch quickly retrieved a deck of tarot cards from the side and began to mysteriously shuffle them.
Observing this, Beacai couldn’t help but feel the witch’s technique was rather clumsy.
As Beacai waited patiently, the witch drew the tarot cards for the divination, finally spreading them gently before her.
“How fortunate! Your mother is right here, amidst the God-Birth Festival celebration. If you search patiently, you should certainly find her.”
Her hands, hidden beneath the table, clenched slightly. Within Beacai’s heart, a rare spark of hope ignited.
The front desk attendant had mentioned she was on Scented Street, a claim Beacai had found hard to fully believe. But now, the divination also indicated her presence at the bustling festival. Could this truly mean Isis was here?
‘She hadn’t taken this time to leave me; instead, she was here, patiently waiting for my return…’
‘I will find her.’
“Thank you.”
Politely, she expressed her gratitude, failing to notice the witch’s delicate frame trembling with suppressed laughter. She rose, intending to leave immediately. However, at that very moment, a sweet, chiding voice drifted from the depths of the fortune-telling booth.
“Miss Isis, why are you being so mischievous? Witches who tease their customers will end up on everyone’s blacklist, you know.”
Before the words had even faded, a woman in a witch’s robe emerged from behind the booth. Two star-shaped earrings dangled from her earlobes, and compared to the previous ‘witch,’ she seemed far more like the true owner of this fortune-telling establishment.
Upon hearing the address, a flicker of astonishment crossed Beacai’s dim eyes. She swiftly turned to face the woman in the witch’s hat, asking with a hint of disbelief, “Mother?!”
“Eh? This young lady is your daughter? Isis, you never told me about this!”
The witch had intended to say more, but upon hearing the customer address Isis in such a way, her gossipy spirit instantly flared. She began to press Isis for details about her relationship with the young girl before them.
Isis, meanwhile, removed the witch’s hat, revealing her face. She merely smiled, offering no words.
In the end, she had not chosen to spend money to leave Prerli. She herself was unsure if it was the elf children in the church who made her stay, or if it was Beacai.
Moreover, she only possessed a little over twenty silver coins. Even if she had departed, more dangers would undoubtedly await her in the future. Beacai, being an evil god, would likely find it effortless to track her down.
Unable to pinpoint why she was unwilling to leave Prerli, she could only attribute it all to risk.
“So, everything Mother said was true? You were waiting for me at the celebration all along?”
Knowing that Isis had not left Prerli, Beacai’s heavy heart finally lightened. An unstoppable, brilliant smile bloomed across her adorable face.