The massage was unlike anything I'd experienced before. Serena's hands seemed to find knots in my muscles I didn't even know existed, and as she worked, the blue markings on my arm pulsed and then gradually dimmed, as if the tension they held was being released.
"Your prophetic energy is responding well," Serena observed. "The patterns are stabilizing."
"Is that good?" My voice was muffled into the massage table and I was too relaxed to lift my head.
"Very good. Prophecies are like rivers, they need to flow smoothly. Too much turbulence, and they can overflow their banks."
"Causing reality breaches," I concluded. "Like random butterflies and ferrets."
"Exactly. Now breathe deeply. The aromatherapy is beginning."
The scent in the room shifted, becoming something warm and spicy, with undertones of cinnamon and cedar. It changed again as I breathed, softening to something that reminded me of old books and rain.
"The scent adapts to what you need," Serena explained. "Right now, it's helping ground your energy."
By the time the massage ended, I felt more relaxed than I had since this whole prophecy business began. The blue markings on my arm had settled into a steady, gentle glow rather than their usual erratic pulsing.
"The final part of your treatment is a saltwater soak," Serena informed me as she helped me sit up. "It's a communal pool, but private alcoves are available if you prefer solitude."
"Communal is fine," I yawned, stretching. "I should probably check on my chaos squad anyway."
Serena led me to a large central chamber where a pool of glowing turquoise water steamed invitingly. The ceiling above was a dome of what looked like actual night sky, stars twinkling in impossible constellations.
"Your treatment attire is suitable for the pools," Serena assured me, gesturing to the thin, silky garment I wore. "The waters are enchanted for modesty."
I approached the edge of the pool cautiously, dipping my toe in first. The water felt perfect, not too hot, not too cold, and seemed to welcome me in. As I slipped into the pool, the water around me took on a faint blue glow that matched my prophetic markings.
I had just settled onto a submerged bench when I heard a commotion from one of the adjoining corridors.
"I am perfectly capable of navigating to the pool myself," Fenric's voice carried clearly across the chamber. "Bureau regulation 472-B clearly states that attendants should maintain appropriate professional distance unless assistance is specifically requested."
He emerged looking somewhat ruffled, his usually immaculate hair slightly disheveled. His attendant followed, looking apologetic.
"The gentleman insisted on proceeding alone," she explained to no one in particular.
Fenric spotted me and made his way to the pool, his posture rigid even in the flowing spa garments. He entered the water with precise movements, as if he'd calculated the exact angle and speed required for optimal immersion.
"How was your massage?" I was trying not to laugh at his discomfort.
"Adequate," he sniffed. "Though the attendant used excessive pressure on the trapezius muscles."
"Heaven forbid," I rolled my eyes.
Before Fenric could respond, another door opened, and Milo bounded in, followed by what appeared to be three of his miniature skeletons, each wearing tiny towels around their bony waists.
"This place is amazing!" Milo exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. "They let me bring Jeffrey and the others! They said as long as they don't dive into the pool, it's fine!"
The skeletons lined up at the edge of the pool and began performing what looked like a synchronized swimming routine on dry land, complete with dramatic poses.
"Milo," Fenric's voice was strained, "I'm quite certain I specified no necromantic entities during our relaxation period."
"But they're helping!" Milo protested. "Look how relaxing their performance is!"
One of the skeletons attempted a pirouette, lost its balance, and toppled into a nearby table of aromatherapy oils. Bottles crashed to the floor, their contents mixing in a puddle that immediately began to emit purple smoke.
"Oops! Sorry!" Milo rushed over, his skeletons scurrying to help. They began mopping up the spill with their tiny towels, but only succeeded in spreading the mess further.
One of the attendants hurried over, but as she approached, she stepped in the oil mixture and suddenly turned a vibrant shade of blue from head to toe.
