Clucking her tongue at the further ravages of grey in her hair, she took the Sun-and-crescent and slid it through her hair, centering it and tucking her bangs beneath it. The lick of hair on either side of her face both stubbornly refused to behave, as always, and curled up along her skin. Shrugging, she turned her head to either side to make a final check before a day of business.

The door creaked open and a bright young face popped in. "Aunt Wu, should I open up for the customers yet?"

"Not quite yet, Meng," the woman answered. "An old lady has to make sure she has to look absolutely perfect before presenting herself to public. There's more to take care of when your looks go." She chuckled, and Meng started laughing too, then stopped as a look of confusion replaced her smile. Hesitantly she withdrew and shut the door.

Aunt Wu looked back at the mirror. Despite what she had said, she reflected, she was not in too bad of shape. Her large, wise eyes and flattering, world-worn smile did wonders for her reputation as a fortuneteller. She applied one more touch of purple color to her eyelids, smoothed her brows as a sign of dignity, and swept out of her chambers in a flourish of her golden robes.

Meng jumped excitedly as Aunt Wu emerged. Seeing the young girl made the prophetess smile; Aunt Wu saw random numbers of people every day, many local, but many passing through or many who came specifically to see her. Meng was a constant, even for a local; the poor girl fancied tidings of her future love life so much that Aunt Wu had allowed her to work part-time in her fortunetelling business, as an assistant in charge of her customers. She was the closest thing Wu had to family, and she thought fondly of Meng.

Really, though, if she had been asked by anyone, directly, she would be the first to say that it nearly impossible to predict the fogginess of the future. The real future, she believed, was in the hands of those who wished to grasp it and mold it for themselves. As far as Aunt Wu was concerned, all she did was illuminate a path, which the lucky (or unlucky) customer would have to choose to follow. Thanks to her reputation, they always did.

Meng ran to the door and flung it wide open. There was only a short line this morning, three travellers, but that was no indication of the rest of the day. Nodding at her assistant, Aunt Wu turned and instead of going back down the hallway, entered the divination room. She trailed a finger behind her. "You first, my good man. Welcome, and come in."

The stranger, dressed in typical Earth Kingdom garb, followed the old prophetess into the room and shut the door behind him. Aunt Wu took a seat on a cushion at the far side of the room, and began to stir the embers of yesterday's fire, to start it up again. "So, my friend. What can I do for you today?" She indicated a cushion opposite the fire with her free hand, and the man sat down.

"My son has been enlisted to fight on the front lines against the Fire Nation invaders," he began. Aunt Wu closed her eyes, and the man noticed. "What?"

"Oh, you poor man," she shook her head. "That is the most common question I get these days. The war has filled all of our lives with sorrow. Loved ones are called off to battle, their families left to worry for their safety, grieve for their loss. A world where the soil you live on determines for what causes you will fight, against whom you will defend." She looked up and opened her eyes; they were equally full of sorrow. "You wish to know his fate?" Tentatively, the man nodded. "Very well. The oracle bones are no good for this sort of reading; neither is palmistry. You will need some tea."

She stood up, passed the poker to him with the expectation that he would finish stirring up the fire, and crossed to her cupboard. "Chamomile, jasmine, raspberry, or honey."

"Jasmine," he answered, as the fire flared up.

"Excellent," she said, both of the tea and the fire. She filled a cup with water, stepped back over to the man and passed him both the cup and a bag of tea leaves. "Drop the tea leaves in, and swill the cup to mix it. Then drink the tea slowly, letting the leaves settle to the bottom. As you drink, think of your son." He tore open the bag, trembling slightly, and dropped it in. As he began to swill the cup, Aunt Wu put a hand on his shoulder. "You travelled far, didn't you?"

"Not very," the man said uncomfortably. "A small distance."

Aunt Wu resumed her seat across the fire from him, taking the poker as she passed it and returning it to its proper place. "Know that everyone that happens for a reason, and even though some things are out of our control, everything works out for the best in the end."

The man smiled weakly and took a sip of the tea. "Thank you, Aunt Wu."

Aunt Wu smiled back kindly. "Now. Tell me a little more about your son." She sat back and folded her hands in her lap, and listened.