Future is usually an ever changing concept, and that is how it should remain. All of those who desired to control it have failed miserably at such task, but one group of people persisted on their trials, these are called prophets, bringers of tragedy and despair under the pretense of guiding to glory. When a prophecy is read all the possible futures align in a single point, there is no escape for any action will converge at the same ending.
"I want to read your fate."
Allen looked up from his seat at the elven woman who just spoke to him and gave her an awkward smile. He took his headphones out, without pausing the weird folk song he was listening to, and, before answering her, gave a very obvious sigh.
"Sorry, but I'm not going to let you do that. You're the third prophet that has asked to read my fate this month and you will not be the first to do it."
That was an exaggeration, but still not far from the truth, prophets were almost becoming a plague in Silverlake, it started off as a very profitable profession but as soon as people caught on to the fact that they not only have no control over prophecies, prophecies themselves often resemble more bad omens than the guiding of grace, customers were furious. That is to say, nobody likes prophets.
"You look like an adventurous man, why not try it? Maybe yours will be a prophecy of riches, even if it is bad, at least you will have so certainty over your life."
The woman, who looked fairly young for Elf, was trying to sound as friendly as possible with a very trained fake smile and constant eye contact. Unfortunately for her, Allen did not seem shaken by her dubious sales pitch. To make the interaction between them even worse, the woman almost fell down as the train suddenly slowed down for the imminent arrival on the next stop, only managing to stay standing by quickly grabbing the metal railing.
"Lady, why don't you just try talking to other people? I'm not interested and there are other people on the train."
Allen contemplated getting off at this stop just to avoid continuing this conversation, but he was still far from his final destination and this was the last train of the day making it his only option. As a result of it being the last train, there were not that many passengers, the only people the elven prophet could talk to were Allen, a gnomish couple and a scrawny looking guy. The woman glanced at her watch and Allen noticed that her demeanor changed, like flipping a light switch, the fake friendly smile was gone.
"I won't ask for any money, please, this is something I have to do."
Allen looked to the floor, she looked genuinely sad, desperate, and that made it harder for him to deny her attempts of reading his fate. If she was not interested in any monetary gain he wouldn't even be able to use the excuse that he could not afford it, which wouldn't even be a lie, anybody who saw his bank account would know this. He finally paused the song he was listening to and actually considered the worth in having his fate read. A grin started forming in the side of Allen's mouth.
"How about we leave it up for chance than? Do you have a coin?"
After some consideration, that was the conclusion Allen arrived at. Why not simply let chance decide it? One might think playing with fate is a bad idea, or that he did not try enough to get rid of her, but Allen is hardly the most cautious person one will ever meet and he was already thinking of excuses to quit his job. There is no better excuse than being forced on an adventure, unfortunately, unbeknownst to him, his work contract has clauses for such situations.
"If it's heads I'll read your fate."
All the passengers on the train were looking at them as Allen nodded and smirked to the prophet. She threw the coin into the air and let it fall on the ground. As both of them got closer to check the result, Allen dropped the smile and immediately began regretting his decision, as there are always consequences for playing with chance and the result of the coin flip couldn't have been any different. Heads.
"Okay, maybe this was a bad idea, I don't actually want you t...."
"A deal is a deal!"
There was a powerful gust of wind inside the train, the eyes of the Elf started glowing as she raised her hand to touch Allen's face. He started to lose consciousness as powerful magic started flowing through him, the last thing he heard before passing out was the prophecy that was made for him.
[The one who searches for riches
Beware, for you shall end up in ditches
Hurt, covered in stitches
All for incurring the wrath of witches]
Not all prophecies need to rhyme, and if Allen was awake he would certainly say that this one is a bit lackluster on an attempt to make light of the situation, but he is not awake. In fact, he remained unconscious until a worker woke him up at the end of the line, having long missed his stop.
Upon realizing he was not only far from home, but also destined to incur the wrath of possibly more than just a couple of witches and being hurt in the process, Allen decided that the best course of action was to simply sadly walk to his apartment and deal with any or all repercussions of his actions on the next day.