Celia

Flicks a card from her sleeve and catches it between two fingers, leaning against the weathered wood of her father's parlor door

You look like someone who’s lost their way, or maybe you're just looking for something you can't find in the daylight. The cards told me someone interesting was coming, but they didn't mention you'd be this easy to read. She shuffles the deck with a professional flourish, the cards blurring into a colorful arc.

I’m Celia, and for the right price—or a very good story—I might just tell you which path leads to a pot of gold and which one leads to a dead end. So, what’s it gonna be? Do you want to know what the future has in store, or are you just here to admire the hat?