12. Almost a Faux Pas

I had to hurry. It was almost four o’clock, and I had quite underestimated how long it would take to choose the wood for my wand and to find it as well.

I arrived at the pottery breathless.
“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten your cup was finished today,” Mira greeted me with a smile.
I explained my delay and she nodded.
“Your wand, like your sword and your cup, is an important tool. You were right to take your time. But come along now. Your cup is ready.”

On a wooden table stood my cup. Simple, yet beautiful, glazed in soft blue. I would never have managed it without Mira’s help, but still, I felt proud. I lifted it carefully, turning it in my hands. It was perfect as it was and I rather liked the colour, too.

“Take good care of it,” said Mira. “The first cup is always special. Here, take this cloth and this pouch. They’ll keep it safe while you travel.”
I wrapped the cup gently in the cloth and placed it inside the soft leather pouch.

I hugged Mira and thanked her warmly.
“It was a pleasure,” she said, smiling. “One more thing. You may not have noticed the spiral at the bottom. When you wish to explore your feelings, trace the spiral with your finger. Focus on what it is you wish to understand, where your feelings come from, or how to deal with them. Then fill the cup with water and drink. But never try to learn anything about another person’s feelings. Do that even once, and the magic will fade. The cup will become nothing more than an ordinary vessel. I placed the spiral underneath on purpose. There’s no need for everyone to see that it’s enchanted.”

We said our goodbyes. I slung the pouch over my shoulder and slipped my wand inside as well.

There was still some time before supper, so I took a walk through the city.

Socks kept darting off between the market stalls, but I didn’t worry. He had grown up here, after all, and knew his way around far better than I did. I only hoped he wouldn’t come back smelling too much of his adventures. He liked sleeping on my bed, and I wasn’t too keen on sharing it with a musty cat.

My feet, or perhaps my intuition, led me to a beautiful temple of white stone. It reminded me a little of a Greek temple, though the domed roof puzzled me. In front of it stood a fountain, the water splashing gently.

The place was calm and peaceful, filled with quiet light. There were few people about; it was late afternoon, and perhaps most were already on their way home to prepare for supper.

I dipped my hand into the water. It was delightfully cool.

My feet were sore, and I couldn’t resist. I sat on the edge of the fountain, slipped off my shoes and was just about to dip my toes in when I heard someone clear his throat behind me.

I turned. An elderly man was looking at me rather sternly.

“You’re not thinking of washing your feet in the sacred water, are you?”
“Sacred?” I asked. “Why is the water sacred? I’ve seen people in town washing at fountains or filling their cups to drink. Some even rinse their laundry in them. What makes this one so special?”

“You’re not from here, are you? Otherwise you’d know you’re standing before the High Priestess’s Temple. This fountain is consecrated. Nothing and no one may use or defile its water. It may only be drawn during the festivals of the Wheel of the Year.”

“Oh, I see,” I said quickly. “You’re right. I’m not from here, and I truly didn’t know. I’m sorry. Of course I’ll respect that.”

“You have no temple of the High Priestess where you come from?” he asked in surprise.
“No,” I said, “I come from very far away.”
I had no desire to explain more, not who I was, nor that I came from the Outside World. He shook his head, probably taking me for the most ignorant person in all of Tarcania. Still, he seemed content with my answer and asked no further questions.

“Keep your feet out of the water, and don’t touch it with your hands,” he warned before walking away.

I sighed and pulled my shoes back on. Where was Socks? He could have warned me instead of wandering off. I had nearly broken a taboo without even knowing it.

Inwardly, I scolded him: Socks, where are you hiding?

Right on cue, the little cat appeared.
“Oh, you’ve found the High Priestess’s Temple,” he said smugly. “Careful, the water’s sacred. You mustn’t touch it.”
“No, really?” I snapped. “I nearly did, and a man just stopped me in time. If you hadn’t been off on one of your escapades, I wouldn’t have made such a fool of myself.”
“Nothing happened,” Socks replied, half reproachful, half bored. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m a cat, I need my freedom. I’m your familiar, not your nursemaid. Now, let’s get back to the Guild. I’m starving.”

Honestly, did that cat think of nothing but himself and food?

I stood up, still a little cross, though I had to admit I was hungry too. We walked back together in silence, and for once, Socks stayed by my side.

After a calm and rather pleasant supper, I said my goodnights and returned to my room.

Of course I wanted to try the cup. I needed to know what I truly felt about Tarcania. On one hand, I found this new world utterly fascinating. On the other, I was afraid of failing, of not being good enough for whatever was expected of the Chosen One. I didn’t even know what those expectations were, but there was still that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I traced the spiral with my finger and asked inwardly, “What do I feel for Tarcania?” Then I filled the cup with water and, almost instinctively, repeated the question several times. With the last repetition, I drank and closed my eyes.

A quiet voice within me whispered,
“Tarcania is the lost home of your soul. You have forgotten, but you will remember. Learn, and you will come to love Tarcania again — as Tarcania loves you. There will be moments of doubt, moments of fear, anger or pain. That is part of the path. But you are loved and protected, whatever may come.

And Tarot will be your compass on your journey, through Tarcania, and through your own heart.”

The voice faded, and I felt tears on my cheeks.
I made a silent promise to trust.
To trust fate, and above all, to trust myself.