They stood in the middle of a cemetery located in a remote Siberian village. Thick patches of snow lay untouched, covering the many graves that surrounded them. An icy and unforgiving cold had settled in, and even with the little girl's spell to warm her body, she still shivered as the winds cut through her clothing. The old woman noticed this and said, "Let me help you," before casting another. In an instant, a comforting warmth spread across the girl's skin, making her feel as though she was wrapped up in a sauna. Relief washed over her.
The old woman with wrinkled gray hair pushed her round spectacles up the bridge of her nose and held out a small agenda, her finger tracing the pages. “Ah-ha!” she exclaimed, turning to face a blonde girl. She smiled revealing a set of yellowed teeth and chuckled. “I found it!”
"Great! We’re done!" the blonde girl cheered before the smile on her lips faded. "But how are we going to get his memories back? He’s been dead for years!"
"Worry not," Lady De Hard replied, gesturing for the little girl to come closer. “That's why I’m here. I am a seer; I can recreate an almost exact copy of his memories by reading his hands." She placed both hands in front of her and stared at her palms.
The little girl's eyes widened with fascination. "Brilliant, Lady De Hard! I want you to teach me to do that someday," she said excitedly, tugging at De Hard's long sleeves.
The woman looked at the little girl and sighed. "It’s complicated, honey. It takes a lot of practice to get good at it." The little girl's eyes widened. She puffed out her cheeks and stamped her foot. "That doesn't matter! I'm not afraid - I'll learn it!"
De Hard was a short woman with olive-colored eyes, her wrinkles around them softened by the gentle smile that lit up her face. De Hard's kind demeanor made Kath feel like she was in the presence of a warm hug despite the cold weather. Kath was a petite girl, her skin tanned from hours of playing outdoors and her silvery blond hair tied back into a ponytail. Her hazel-colored eyes sparkled with curiosity as she eagerly awaited De Hard's next words.
"Alright. Let's start the first lesson," De Hard said, pocketing her agenda and her glasses.
De Hard, gripping a silver wand in her hand, ran the tip of it over Dmitriy Volkov's gravestone right above his birthdate.
"Born: November 24th, 1825. Deceased: November 24th, 1859," Kath read out loud.
At that moment, the entire tomb rattled as if its contents were coming to life. De Hard tapped twice the stone slab and it split open with a raucous sound. A wooden casket expelled itself from the grave and scattered stones around Kath. The coffin lay several feet away from Kath, who horrified, had fallen to the ground from shock.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
De Hard curled her fingers around the cold handle of her wand. As she raised it, a faint hum filled the air and the tip lit up with an icy-white light. With a single wave of her arm, a shimmering silver aura enveloped the coffin.
Kath's heart raced as she saw some ancient runes cursive across the wooden lid, for she knew that what they were doing was wrong. Her voice shook as she asked De Hard, "What are you doing? This is so wrong."
"I know... but I have his consent."
Kath felt her heart leap into her throat as De Hard answered. A silver mist seemed to wrap the coffin like a fog, and she watched in awe as De Hard waved her wand over the casket in slow circles, murmuring under her breath.
After two minutes, De Hard threw the wand, sending it flying and piercing through the wood with a loud thunk. The coffin’s lid slowly eased open, revealing the body of a young adult man inside. Kath could have sworn he was only sleeping-- calm and peaceful with flowers around him-- but soon remembered what was truly going on here.
The old woman nodded; her eyes fixed on the girl. “Listen carefully. Place your hand upon his forehead and close your eyes. Concentrate hard. Take one of his hands in yours. You need to feel and trace all the wrinkles in his palm. If you focus enough, perhaps they can help lead you to his truth." She demonstrated the procedure slowly, her voice gentle yet firm.
Kath performed as told and placed her left hand on the man’s forehead whilst grabbing his right hand. Her body shivered at the touch of the dead man's body.
“Let's perform a reading of his hand,” De Hard ordered.
Katherine opened her eyes and traced his hand lines.
“Let's see!” She stammered, her brown eyes darting from the man's face to his hand. She ran her finger along the lines of his palm, and as she spoke, De Hard nodded. “Jupiter tells us that he had a life full of pride, honor, and opportunity. Although his life was…” she paused and gasped as she pointed out a jagged line on the wrist.
“Marked by apathy and a lack of confidence, his fate line is not continuous." De Hard completed, then leaned closer so Kath could continue. The two bent over the man's palms like monks at prayer, focusing on their task.
“Which means... he was someone who knew his fate but never wanted to be part of it. The line is deeply raised, from the wrist to the Mount of Saturn.” The girl tilted her head like dogs do when they do not understand something, then looked up at De Hard with an expression of newfound understanding. “A unique change. His head’s line is different in both hands,” she scanned each of the man's hands before continuing. “Which means, he suffered from a constant inner fight,” Kath concluded, beaming at De Hard.
“My God!” De Hard gasped, looking at both hands in awe. Her brow furrowed as she noticed an absence of the heart line on them both.
“Second time?” Kath grabbed the man's right hand and then stared at her own, a look of horror crossing her face. Suddenly, a whirlwind surrounded them. Ethereal black lace-like bindings wrapped around Kath's arms coming out of Dmitry's body. She cried out in pain, as tears of thick, black blood streamed down her face. She slumped to the ground unconscious.