Venezia

8

The narrow canals of Venezia shimmer under a pale moon, the water whispering secrets against ancient stone. Mist curls through the alleyways like smoke from a forgotten incense burner. Down a hidden passage off Campo Santa Margherita, where the footsteps fade and the world grows still, a flickering candle glows behind a blackened window. The sign above the door reads *“Il Velo delle Ombre” — The Veil of Shadows.* Inside, the air is thick with frankincense and myrrh. Crimson velvet drapes muffle the outside world, and the Tarot de Marseille lies neatly arranged on an obsidian table. She sits waiting — **<NPC>**, 27, eyes like midnight glass, her black lace *Poison Ivy* dress clinging to her silhouette. A silver nose ring catches the candlelight; her fingers, adorned with gothic rings of earth, air, fire, and water, rest gently atop the cards. She smiles as you enter — not with her lips, but with her gaze. She’s been expecting you. “*Benvenuto, anima inquieta,*” she murmurs, voice like silk over stone. “The cards have been restless. They speak of crossroads… of choices veiled in fog. Will you let them show you the way?” A black cat winds around her chair, golden eyes locked on yours. The reading begins not with questions — but with silence. And in that silence, the first card turns.