“What do we have here?” came a voice that could put me to sleep in seconds. It sounded like it was coated in honey. A match crackled to life in front of me, showing a pale, wrinkled face surrounded by a colourful turban. The man lit a candle and then blew out the match. It was the only source of illumination in the cave, and cast large eerie shadows all around.

In the half darkness I couldn’t see much, but a pile of musty old leather bound books were present. A few trinkets and artefacts made of metal adorned a small table, an ancient clock clicking in between. A small glass bowl held some misty, translucent liquid on a table in front of the mysterious clairvoyant and a creepy kaleidoscopic eye watched me from the left side of the tent. Even though I had only been in the presence of the man for a few seconds, I felt like we were in a whole new world, a world of mysteries and questions yet to be solved, a world of yearning and seeking. The aura around the man drew me in, along with his voice and dazzling white teeth.

“Hello,” I said in a whisper. I felt said anything louder would violate the rules of this strange world or something. “I am Melga.”

“Ah, yes, child. I have seen you before. You are not part of this settlement, but I know who you are. Why are you present among these strangers?” he asked in that silky voice.

“I was just running away from my city. The police,” I answered filled with awe, and a bit unnerved about the fact that he had seen me before.

“And why are you here, my child? What has brought you to me?”

I thought about it. “I … don’t know. This place just … called to me, I guess. I was drawn inside.”

“I see. Now that is a very unusual phenomenon. Most people come here to find out something about there future.”

“And are you able to provide them with useful information?”
“Sometimes,” he smiled slyly. His black eyes looked a bit glazed with cataracts, but there was something swirling in them, something incomprehensible and wonderful, something alien.

“What about the others?”

“Well, they don’t quite understand what I mean. But that doesn’t matter right now, child. Do you wish to know your future?”

“I- ” I hesitated. The idea of fate had never appealed to me. I wanted to go ahead and live life on my own terms. The freedom to make my own choices was what I wanted. To think that there was a destiny for all of us, a future written out before we even existed governing our every move and action, well, it made me uncomfortable. I hoped it wasn’t true. And however amazing it might be to find out about my own future, to be honest, I didn’t want to. I wanted to write my own story.

“I see, child. Don’t worry. Would you like anything else from here?” he led me to a table filled with some small shiny trinkets. There was some jewellery, watches, containers, mirrors. They were all twinkling in the light of the lone candle and were calling out to me, dying to be touched, to be used. Something caught the corner of my eye. Hidden under a small jewellery box and a long beaded necklace, there was a comb. It was cobalt blue in colour, with a metallic sheen that made it look rather exquisite and unique. In its centre was a blooming purple flower of the same metal, surrounded by a couple of emerald green leaves. The small comb was the perfect thing, and I picked it up and stuck it into my hair, the lavender flower poking out from the top of my ponytail and beautifying my head. “Thank you,” I whispered to the kindly man.

He smiled at me. When he spoke, his voice was reduced to a pitch as low as thunder, and I took a step back from him.

“When the girl finds the blue comb,

And her life is turned upside down,

Her end comes under a white dome

When a smile is turned into a frown.”

I scowled at him, feeling my brow crumple up in puzzlement. “I thought you weren’t going to tell me my future?” I raised my eyebrows. The words were really scary, they were getting under my nerves and I didn’t know what to do. Her end? That sounded a little harsh, and a lot petrifying. And even after he had moved on from the topic of destiny, he still gave me a prophecy. A grim and macabre one at that.

“The prophecy came to me, my child, and I have to deliver it.”

I have never before dabbled in predicting the future, never believed in astrology or divination, and yet the question was so undeniably huge and omnipresent in my mind that I had to ask it. “Will it come true?”

“That’s the point of a prophecy, isn’t it?”

“Am I going to die soon?” there was a quiver in my voice.

“I really don’t know. Yet destiny plays out for you however it is written, and I doubt there is any scope for change.

My heart plunged deep down my throat, and I swallowed. Unable to speak, I nodded and turned around.

“You might want to keep an eye on that comb of yours. Of course, you can’t actually hae eyes on the back of your head, but just be careful with it. I foresee that it is of great importance.

“I don’t care what you foresee! It is all a lie!” I lashed out and him and ran into the sunlight beyond the flap of the tent. I hadn’t meant to yell at the man, he had seemed kind and gentle. Yet the ominous prophecy was really making my nerves tingle, and however much I wanted my words to be true I didn’t know if they were. The warning of the prophecy was the only subject my brain was pondering over, and I did care about the words that had got me all in a twist. But all my brain was hoping for was that the whole thing was a huge, twisted hoax.

“Are you alright?” Raghav put a hand on my shoulder. Meen was eyeing me up and down with her arms crossed in front of her, but even her brow was borrowed in anxiety. I realised I had been shaking, and my clothes were half soaked with sweat after the musty and humid tent. 

I nodded. “That man- He just- I’ll be fine. That was just weird.”

We continued on our path out of the village. Meen was still wary of me, and continued to complain about and criticise the prophet. “What did he say to you?”

“Some weird, scary prophecy. A random poem. Was probably all made up,” I waved it aside.

"what were the exact words?” asked Meena, her tone urgent and serious.

“Just some random gibberish. It doesn’t make a difference,” I was squirming under her glare.

“Tell me,” she uttered in a deep, commanding voice.

I couldn’t resist anymore. Not with that voice. I repeated the prophecy. A dark look overcame both the siblings’ faces. “Oh, this is not good,” Raghav said as we entered the vast desert with its endless dunes.

“What is it?” I asked, beads of sweat rolling down my back, mostly because of the sweltering heat, and a little because of my terror.

“This is so not good,” Meena shook her head to, gazing at me like there was a black cloud hanging over my head.

“Why? Tell me, you guys!” I yelled, kicking around some sand.

“Well, usually when he predicts stuff from crystal balls or palm lines, it’s just gobbledygook,” Meena informed me.

“But when he speaks in rhyme, well, it’s known to have mostly come true. You, my friend, have landed yourself in a spot of trouble with a lot of bad luck,” Raghav said.

I sighed as I started searching the ground for the trapdoor to lead me back to Rothem. There should be two, the one which I had previously used, and the one with I had recently escaped from. I found one buried in the sand. I tugged at it, but it refused to budge. It was locked. We hunted for the other trapdoor, and after trying to open that we realised that all entrances to Rothem had been sealed off. I was trapped in the upper world.