Following a routine séance, Xhairen begins to actually sense macabre apparitions and to hear voices foretelling doom. Seeking the wisdom of a vagrant gypsy troop, Xhairen discovers that she has been cursed by the spirits for her lies...

The downward spiral of guilt, paranoia, and despair leads her ever closer to the threshold of insanity.

Early Misfortune:
She grew up an urchin on the city streets -- far from the splendid thoroughfares and promenades, adorned with strolling pedestrians, laughing passers-by, and cheerful families peering into illuminated shop windows. No, hers was a world of dark culs-de-sac, dank alleys, and garbled noises that left one feeling chilled, frightened, and utterly alone.

A sad smile and teary eyes worked well for panhandling. The idea of singing for one's supper was a romantic illusion: the general populace eschewed beggars who seemed too chipper.

Merchants and shopkeepers would chase paupers away with brooms, but sifting through the rubbage behind their stores provided scraps to eat. This was life. This was reality. This was survival.

Fortune Smiles:
A thick accent, an exotic moniker, a few charms, a deck of painted cards, and a crystal ball... These were all one really needed.

The fortuneteller routine was one of many scams that proved far more lucrative than the stealing and begging of childhood. She could be anyone... the bonnie young lady who wooed bachelors into swindling away their savings, the distressed widow who depended on the kindness of strangers, the brilliant and eccentric artist or songstress who mysteriously disappeared after receiving an advanced commission... Yes, she could be anyone, but it was as the fortuneteller that she became most successful.

The cultured nobility, the ladies of breeding, the socially elite, and the avant-garde gathered in exquisite parlors or threw lavish dinner parties celebrating psychic and medium, Madame Xhairen.

Mysticism was all the rage, and no one was anyone unless Madame Xhairen had done their astrological charts, read their palms, or predicted their futures. Xhairen was the toast of high society, her clients more than willing to offer up expensive fees for a consultation and tremendous sums to ward off bad omens. The fraud afforded Xhairen all that she had ever desired... Until a very real encounter with the supernatural cost her everything.

Fortune Frowns:
Voices... Always the voices... They speak with malice or rage or despair... But they are always there... Always speaking...

The séance had been no different than countless others. Candles. Crystal ball. Indistinct chanting... She and another group of gullible patrons sat, clasping hands around an ebony table. Incense wafted through the darkened room while she pretended to channel the spirit of a great-aunt, dead under mysterious circumstances. Xhairen convinced the wealthy family that their dearly departed was indeed at rest, and was rewarded handsomely for this affirmation...

Tucked away in a private coach jostling toward home, strange noises worked their way from silence into the audible. They began nondescriptly before taking on the sound of whispers and the tone of murmurs. Soon malevolent words, wrapped in vague apparitions, echoed loudly through the night.

There was no mistaking these voices... These were not the random sounds of a bustling city, nor a trick of her cunning mind. The shrouded figures were more than mere fog. Xhairen, the fraud, the fake, the phony, was exhibiting legitimate psychic power... And the restless spirits were angry... with her.

The Curse:
Xhairen did not wait for daybreak before hastening toward the colorful gypsy caravan on the outskirts of town. People avoided this place and whispered about it as a warning to unruly children.

The gypsy seer, haggard and menacing, spoke with a wheezing rasp...

The spirits have cursed you... condemned you for your deceptions... You have robbed the innocent... You have tempted the dead and now... now, you are haunted... Now, you shall pay!

Xhairen ran... Ran from the cackling gypsy, into the enshrouding gloom... Ran, unable to escape her past crimes... Ran with the terrible voices still echoing in her head...

Rocking... forever rocking... In a shadowy corner, her mind consumed by anguish and regret, Xhairen cowers. The voices threaten, invade, accost... Remain.

Dedications:
Xhairen is an incredible Pet... Thank you, Twixee.

Link to Madame Xhairen:
Madame Xhairen graphics come in four different sizes: Mini (Mini Button), Small (Quilt), Medium (Avatar), and Large (Signature). To link to her PetPage, copy & paste the code/s below:

Xhairen Mini Button: <a href="http://petpages.neopets.com/~Xhairen"> <img src="http://i563.photobucket.com/albums/ss75/sterlinglyons/XhairenMini.gif"></a> Xhairen Quilt: <a href="http://petpages.neopets.com/~Xhairen"> <img src="http://i563.photobucket.com/albums/ss75/sterlinglyons/XhairenBadge.gif"></a> Xhairen Avatar: <a href="http://petpages.neopets.com/~Xhairen"> <img src="http://i563.photobucket.com/albums/ss75/sterlinglyons/XhairenAv.gif"></a> Xhairen Signature: <a href="http://petpages.neopets.com/~Xhairen"> <img src="http://i563.photobucket.com/albums/ss75/sterlinglyons/XhairenSig.gif"></a>

Please, do not alter these images/ links in any way.

Grey Yurble Adoptables:
A collection of great Yurble graphics.