At the end of my ability to run, I looked for a place to sit and take stock and moved to the temple. That Pigeon found me and, from behind, jumped onto my head and pecked me with my own coin. Twice.

In a muffled voice, the dam bird voice called out, "Go sit by that guy." And took off, only to land on the shoulder of the guy the monks were watching. I was sure that was my exhaustion talking. And not a pigeon don't talk to people. Dragging one foot in front of another, I stood in front of the man. He was looking down at the three tarot cards on the stairs between his feet, elbows on his knees and one palm on top of his fist and chin resting on the knuckles of the top hand.

"Mind if I sit here?" I asked the man about my height, which was 155-160 centimeters tall. I have a green mohawk haircut and a good solid build. And he was talking to himself. The Pigeon didn't move, so I grabbed at it. The coin dropped into the sitting man's robe.

"Hands off, you dang dirty, no profession slime," said the bird. Did that bird talk to me? Surely not, I am tired, and my head got knocked in the ally.

The man said to the world, "It is not possible! The cards were different in my hand and now. Look at them!" He was staring at the three cards lying on the marble stairs. All three cards showed the same symbol. Two faces and bodies back to back in one form of a man and a woman, looking in opposite directions; the woman was dressed in robes. And the other looked like a knight with lots of armour and a stoic-looking face.

Sitting down next to the man, I looked at the cards, too. "What does it mean?" I asked.

"I am not sure. Justice? But that is not possible. I only have one justice card." He replied

"You could try again and see what happens." I offered as a possible resolution.

The man swept up the cards into a deck, shuffled, and flipped the deck over so the face card showed. Thumbing through each of the cards, he retrieved the Justice card and handed it to me. Goito turned the deck over and flipped the first card to reveal an intricate design with silver, gold, and enamelled colours.

The cards were made of flexible metal, and the card's symbols and words were clear. It said, "friend", then on the second card the word and symbology for "revenge", and upon the third card were the words and symbols for "self".

He laid the three cards face up on the ground one after another. As each card touched the ground, symbology was Justice. It did not change to Justice in some shimmer or was obscured by a smoke cloud; as Goito put the ground, the card was the Justice.

"Again!?" I said. And again, the man scooped up the cards, shuffled the deck, and picked a card laid on the ground. It was the symbol of Justice, and the same went for the next attempt and the one after that.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

At the time, both of us looked at the card in my hand, and it remained the card of Justice. The man gently reached out and picked the card from my hand, replaced it in the deck, and fanned the cards out. Looking, I saw each card; no two were the same, and the deck contained one justice card.

"This is strange. For several hours, I have been doing readings. The cards always tell me what to do." The man said.

"I am Alvaro. Can I help?" I said, butting into the conversation.

"Of course, you can help you, great loaf?" came a voice from nowhere, and I just about leaped out of my skin.

"What the fuck?" I said as that Pigeon stood behind us. I leaped at it. Revenge indeed will be mine, and as I twisted and turned my body, the dam thing blinked out of existence. Not so much moved; it just stopped existing.

"And there is that thing. It just appeared from nowhere. One minute, I prayed to anyone who could help me get justice. The next minute, an oversized Pigeon shows up." the man continued.

"Goito Pico. That is me. Alvaro, it is nice to meet you." Goito said.

"You have a great pigeon. Where did it come from?" Goito asked.

"A Pigeon that talks. And it is definitely not mine. It stole that coin from me," I added.

"What do you mean? It does not talk." Goito said.

"Yes, I do, you great num nut. I am your familiar. I did not want this job one moment; I was in the celestial realm, and then I got the tap on the shoulder. And I am here in this body and bound to you," the Pigeon said.

"You know how they make a pigeon celestial hybrid familiar, eh buddy?" the Pigeons asked. "No, no, don't reply to me. It involves shoving my vast existence into a pigeonhole, and it's not a good hole. So no one is happy with your random unaimed prayer," the Pigeon continued.

"You can't hear that Pigeon? It is saying it's yours and that it is your familiar." I said. As the word familiar fell from my lips, Goito leapt up and started to pace from left to right, then back again, clutching his head.

"No. No. No. Familiars are for warlocks. I am a Cleric. See." Goito places his hand upon me.

"Great El Sol, heal this good man's wounds. So that another may benefit from your domain on the sun's early light." Goito's head rocked back. I felt... like I had been living through the worst day of my life. I was cut and bruised, penniless and without a clue.

"You feel great now, don't you?" Goito said.

"No, not all," I responded, looking down at my near-naked state.

"That is it. I have been excommunicated; I am cut off. Why me? What is to become of me?" Goito yelled to the sky.

"Embrace your power, the power of your patron. It's not who you think!" the Pigeon said

"Stop squawking at me, you dam bird. I don't have a patron. I am not a warlock!" Goito yelled.

The bird and Goito exchange drew the monks closer to us.

"Why don't we go and get something to eat. I have no money, but we could do something." I offered.

"I have this." Goito held up a gold coin.

"The bird brought it. Along with this thing," Goito said, holding up another token.

"I think that is mine," I said, and without hesitation, Goito handed the coin to me.

I looked at him and asked, "Why did you give me the coin?"

"Because an honest man only claims that which is theirs to claim," Goito said.

"Then let us go have a meal, and we can talk some more. It's on me." I said, leading Goito by the shoulder. The Pigeon had disappeared. And the monks look relieved.