TarotScope of the Day

The day came when an ominous tension settled over the town. The wind itself seemed to hold its breath. Roads cracked. Tempers snapped. Systems began to fail.

Eira called upon the town’s women — those overlooked, underestimated, dismissed — and taught them to weave. Not with needles, but with intention.

Each woman took up the ritual of sacred maintenance. Together, they realigned the town’s rhythm.

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One night, in a dream woven from starlight, an ancient figure appeared before him : the Keeper of the Inner Flame, cloaked in simple, earth-coloured cloth, with eyes that glowed like twin suns. In his weathered hands, the Keeper held a single, radiant flame.

« You have gathered much, » the Keeper spoke, « but you have forgotten the source of your own fire. »

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