Wicked chance - Chapter 2

It looked harmless enough, and yet James could have sworn it possessed an energy that was almost alive. It's caramel-hued surface was adorned with intricate, artistic markings, which were woven together in an almost indecipherable pattern - the ink was a brilliant gold, as if the secrets of the universe had been penned by some divine entity. He hesitated for a moment, his mind alight with contemplation.

Was he truly prepared to plumb the secrets of this ancient parchment? He decided that he was. Fishing into his pocket, he produced a crumpled bill, slipping it into the hand of a near-forgotten vendor. The vendor, an elderly man with hunched shoulders, narrow, twinkling eyes, and gnarled, claw-like hands barely spared him a look as their worn fingers entwined for a fraction of a second.

He didn't want to pry into the man's life but couldn't help himself - his mind teemed with unanswered questions. Who was this vendor? Where did the scroll originate? And what sort of secrets did it harbor within its timeworn border? The scroll, now cradled against James' chest like an infant, seemed to hum with energy to match the vibrant flea market around him; a ripple in an otherwise placid pool.