The moment she stepped in Kirsten was assailed by the rich aroma of incense and perfume. To her left and right were wooden tables each with dozens of talismans and other objects; golden medallions with images of gods, daggers with jewels set into their golden hilts, and many more caught Kirsten's eye. But she doubted she ever have the gold to buy one if she lived to be a hundred. On the opposite side of the tent was a round table with the ever famous crystal ball. Behind the table was another entrance to the tent, through which Kirsten could see Aleta's wagon and Aleta herself as she fed her horses. Travelers said Aleta was old but beautiful, but at this point all Kirsten could see was that she was indeed beautiful; her long raven black hair shone in the sunlight, her body was toned and lithe, her skin was smooth and tanned by her life on the move. But it was when Aleta came into the tent that Kirsten saw why everyone said Aleta was old. There were no wrinkles of age on her face, but her deep blue eyes bespoke wisdom one only obtains through great age.
"Welcome my dear. Have you come seeking an item of mystical importance, or to see what may be in thy future?" Aleta asked with her melodic yet mystic voice.
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