Aktamun and Kari
The bird spun around the flames, weaving in and out of the flickering fire before bursting out again, carefree and fierce. Aktamun's hand twirled lazily in the air as the conversation picked up again. He was looking at the new girl and the card game she was playing. He recognized it as Tarot, though he had never bothered to learn the specifics of that form of magic. A chaosweaver did not like to know the future - where was the fun in that?
But back home, there had been an older woman - he had liked her, she had always fed him sweets while she looked at him pensively, but what had happened to her? Had she died? In any case, that woman - he'd called her aunt, he remembered now - that woman could divine the future by cutting open an animal - deer and birds, preferably - and observing what the future held by reading the trickle of the blood, the cut of the innards. And when she did, she got that same thousand yard stare.
He hopped a little closer, forgetting to keep a mind's eye on the fire bird he had called into being. "Hey," he whispered, "you saw something, didn't you?"