Frequently asked questions

It is a place in the browser for tarot-style draws, zodiac and the turning year, a reference when a word or symbol slips your mind, and (when you sign in) a quiet record of what you have lived here. You can get a free reading to see if the tone fits, and the weekly reading is always free — a promise, not a countdown. The whole thing is meant to feel unhurried: the same deep sky, the same gold, the same type as soon as you open the app.

Yes. Take a free reading in the app whenever you are curious — there is no ticket price on that first look. Open it from the home page and follow the path that is laid out for you. It is the same room as the rest of the product, so you can feel whether the voice and the pace are yours before you go further.

Yes — and we mean to keep it that way. The weekly reading is always free: a soft, regular touchpoint you can build into your week without watching the calendar for a “trial” to end. Other things in the app may be optional or paid as we grow, but that weekly path is not where we are looking to charge.

You can start in the browser you already use — desktop or phone — with nothing to download from a store. If you pin the site to your home screen, it is still the same love letter of an app, just a tap away. No separate “native” install is required to sit down with the cards.

It should feel familiar whether you are on a phone in bed or a laptop at the kitchen table — the layout bends to the screen, not the other way around. The same sign-in can travel with you, within the product’s own safety rules, so you can start a draw on the bus and read the spread again on the couch.

Once you are inside, you might pull and follow a tarot-style reading, read about your sign, open the encyclopedia when a name escapes you, browse your own history, leave yourself a line in a diary, ask for a reading, or find help and contact, depending on what your account and your corner of the world can open. Menus will shift as we learn; this page is the broad smile at the front — the app is what is on the menu tonight.

No. We hope it gives you a breath of reflection, a little wonder, a moment that feels like yours — not a session with a therapist, a lawyer, or a financial planner. If you are in danger or in agony, please reach for real, human help: local emergency services, a crisis line, someone who can be beside you. That is the important thing, every time.

From the home page, use any “Open” button and walk into the web app. Sign-up, sign-in, and the knobs for your account all live there — this little site never asks for your password; that conversation stays inside the product, where it is safer and clearer.

If you are signed in, the service can hold what the app is designed to remember — the draws you have lived, a note, a message you sent, whatever that feature is meant to keep. The privacy policy in the app (and the broad strokes on this site) describe that in plainer terms than we can here; the people who run the service set the real retention and care rules. Our Privacy page is especially for how this marketing skin behaves when you do not type anything in yet.

We always want you to be able to get a free reading when you are new or coming back, and the weekly reading is always free. Beyond that, you may see optional or paid things as we build — the app and your account are the place to look for today’s price tag. The two things you can take from this page: a free first taste, and a weekly you do not have to pay for.

You can peek at some things without a name in the book; other moments ask you to sign in so your past pulls, a request, a preference has somewhere to rest. The app will tell you plainly when a door needs an account, not halfway through a ritual you have already started.

The app is built the way a careful web app should be — including encrypted transport (HTTPS) in a normal setup. The Privacy page here focuses on this quiet marketing layer; the privacy copy inside the app is the one to trust for the things you type and save there.

The kindest help for “this is broken for me” or “I cannot sign in” lives in the app — help, contact, or support links when your world has them. They should lead you to the people who run your version of Mystic Draw, with the context to actually help.

We did not want you to open the door to a different house. The same deep field of color, the same gold, the same slow serif for the words that need weight — it is the same hand that drew the app, so stepping from this page into the product should feel like one long exhale, not a hard cut to something that forgot who you are.