Fate was something that many ponies did not wish to believe in. The concept of fate, of an ultimate destiny that all actions and consequences were directed towards, implied a lack of freedom, slavery to an unseen future with no hope of deviation. For some, it did not matter if fate led to something bad or good, they only wanted control over their own lives for better or worse. Fate was the antithesis of choice, and the power of personal choice was what most ponies held dearer than anything, even life itself.
There were others, however, for whom choice was a burden, each decision clouded with fear and uncertainty. They embraced the idea of fate wholeheartedly, taking solace in the knowledge that what is is due to the inexorable forces of the cosmos, and what will be will simply be. Everything is as it should be, and the only thing for them to do is to gracefully receive what events may come their way.
Happiness for those that accept their fate, glory for those that defy it, as one saying goes.
It was difficult to begrudge ponies for such beliefs, but, like many things, they are ones based on gross oversimplification.
Fate was not an immutable force set upon a single direction. Rather, fate was merely the most likely of all possibilities. In the maelstrom of energies swirling around everything, living, inanimate, and immaterial, they merge together to form streams, currents, and eddies in the fabric of time and space. The analogy of fate being a river is one of the most enduring precisely because it is the most accurate. Not entirely accurate, but close enough. As such, fate did not dictate, it merely suggested based on prevailing currents, trends, and probabilities. Just as experienced pegasi could read the currents of the atmosphere and predict future weather patterns, so could the seer report the likely outcomes of fate. But just as the pegasi could fly through storms and shape the weather to their whims, so could a pony with the right knowledge navigate the currents of fate and even shape fate to their advantage. It was all then a matter of expending one’s energy in the most effective manner; even though it’s technically possible to stop a violent hurricane in its tracks, any sane weather pony would tell you that it’s far easier to stop a storm before it starts, or to divert rather than to demolish once it’s at full strength.
Some ponies wish for freedom, for total control over their own lives at their own whim, but, like all things, they do not exist in a vacuum. Others wish for order and structure to build their lives upon, but destiny is far too fluid to depend solely upon it. Fate is equal parts personal effort and knowledge of events that happen around you and before the present moment.
But sometimes, even the wisest and most capable pony needs a little guidance from those who could read the currents, and that’s where the seer comes in.
There was really no other way to describe it. Whenever he cast himself to the winds of fate, letting them carry him to wherever the currents collected and coalesced, it was though he was in a dream, seeing the world pass by him through the haze of otherworldly energies that pierced and flowed through and around reality. And, like a vivid dream, upon returning to the world perceived by his mundane senses, he often had difficulty distinguishing what was tangible and what was only a possibility yet to be realized along the paths of fate, leaving him feeling more than a little disoriented.
He was on a train, he realized as his senses reconnected in his mind. But to where, he had no idea. He glanced around the car he was in, seeking some clue as to his current location and possible destination. The train must’ve been a local line, as a simple map of the route and stops were posted on the walls above the windows. He didn’t recognize the names of the stops, but it was clear that he was somewhere near St. Luna, though he couldn’t have been that close to the city since there was only one other passenger in the car seated across the aisle from him.
Arcana instinctively studied his fellow passenger, his talent for reading ponies taking in numerous details in an instant even without the aid of his special gift. A unicorn like him, with a white coat and a short, black mane. Most likely an office worker, indoors work, possibly reasonably well-off due to his habit of wearing nice clothes, but not so well-off as they were not fancy clothes and he was riding mass transit. Probably creative and free-spirited in some way, given that his cutie mark was of a pen trailing a line of ink and that his black collared shirt and blue designer tie were not standard office attire, but still reserved enough to not be completely bohemian. A personality in balance, but more likely one beset by internal conflict.
The stallion was clearly preoccupied with something, as he was just staring out the window. Even though he couldn’t see his face, Arcana could tell from his posture and stance that he wasn’t admiring the view. Something had him worried which seemed to delve beyond mere nervousness.
Arcana shook his head clear. He could probably figure out the stallion’s entire life story given enough time, but he didn’t like to analyze ponies too deeply like that, not without being asked to conduct a reading first. It felt too much like snooping, and the temptation to take advantage of such intimate information was something he’d rather not deal with. Instead, he looked out the window on his side of the car, watching the farmland roll by.
He almost drifted back into the dreamlike embrace of Fate, lulled by the gentle swaying of the car, until the train hit a rough patch of the track, jolting him awake again. As the train rounded a turn, the car jumped again, making Arcana feel for a brief moment that the train was about to fly off the track. Of course, the train and the rails it rode on were constructed better than that, but it was enough to send his pannier flying into the aisle. The clasp burst open as it hit the ground, spilling the bag’s contents across the floor. To his sudden dread, he saw the case containing his prized tarot cards skitter across the aisle and slam into the leg of a seat. The impact knocked the fastener loose, scattering his cards all over the floor.
The sound of Arcana’s pannier hitting the ground jolted the other passenger out of whatever deep thoughts he was embroiled in. He quickly turned towards the source of the sound, seeing Arcana’s things strewn about the floor and their owner picking everything up in a flurry of silvery light. He spied several cards that had slid underneath the seat in front of him and picked them up with his own blue-tinted magic.
“You seemed to have missed these,” he said casually as he floating them towards the other unicorn. Arcana stared at the cards for a heartbeat before taking hold of them with his magic.
“Thanks,” he said. He quickly counted the cards to make sure he wasn’t missing any more, but he stopped when he realized that the other stallion had given him nine cards, enough for a reading.
Arcana glanced at the cards, mentally arranging them as if he were conducting a nine-card reading. For the past, the Eight of Wands, the Three of Pentacles, and the Seven of Cups, indicative of swiftly-moving energy, much recognition, and many choices. A fairly positive reading; Arcana guessed that his fellow passenger had a good childhood and much success in life.
He looked at the cards representing the stallion’s present, and felt himself becoming intrigued. The Eight of Swords, the Ten of Swords, and the Knight of Pentacles. Entrapment and loss, but the possibility of renewal and finding something that one has been waiting for. Arcana surreptitiously glanced over at the stallion, who had resumed his vigil of the passing landscape. Perhaps too much easy success? A lack of direction in life or feelings of wanting something more? Maybe that’s why he was so lost in thought right now. Regardless, there were going to be some challenges for him, but the rewards will be well worth it.
He read the final three cards, the ones heralding the stallion’s future. The Five of Swords, the Five of Wands, and the Page of Pentacles. Warnings of pettiness and unscrupulous dealings. Arcana frowned as he pondered this. Whatever challenges awaited the stallion, they will be fraught with difficulties, most likely from other ponies, but possibly from his own missteps due to his own selfishness. Dealing with the darker sides of equine nature is one of the most difficult and discouraging things that anypony can face, and none is so insidious or perilous than the darkness within oneself.
But there was still hope for this pony’s future. The Page of Pentacles brings the promise of good news and welcome changes. This pony’s life is about to change in drastic ways, but, should he face and overcome all that stands in his way and not give into his darker impulses, he will find himself a better pony for the experience, and may even find something he had been seeking for a long time.
Arcana debated whether he should tell the other passenger about what fate had in store for him. To be forewarned is to be forearmed, as the saying went, and he would weather the coming storms much better if he knew what lay ahead of him, especially something as potentially life-changing as this. On the other hoof, however, this reading was entirely accidental, possibly even distorted somehow by the manner in which it happened. Besides, he wasn’t about to start butting into ponies’ lives without being asked first, and there was also the possibility that this pony didn’t even believe in fate or reading fortunes from cards. There was a reason why he only conducted readings during “business hours”, after all.
He was still considering his options when the train came to a stop. Arcana looked up and saw that the stallion was already on his hooves and walking towards the train doors.
“May the cards fall ever favorably for you,” Arcana said as he passed by. The stallion stopped and looked at him with a confused look on his face.
“Uh, thanks,” he finally said. “Same to you.”
Arcana watched him as he stepped off the train and into the crowd on the platform, then glanced back at the fateful cards. Fate had spoken, and now it was up to him to make the best of the cards dealt to him.
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