The Oracle held out her hand. “A blood offering to the gods, to receive their gift.”
Aelius held out his hand with a belabored sigh, and the oracle quickly sliced his palm, holding it over the bowl and letting the blood drip into it.
Then she turned to me. I held out my hand, nervous for only a moment before surety and peace overcame me once more. It truly felt like the gods were with me. Blessing me with confidence for what’s to come.
I wasn’t sure if I should feel pleased to be graced with the touch of the gods or exceedingly nervous about why the gods felt I needed it…
I winced slightly as the silver blade cut my palm. Thankfully, all Fae healed quickly, and my palm was as good as new just moments after the last drop of blood hit the bowl.
I watched the Oracle toss in a mysterious pink sand and mix it with the blood. She picked up a long pipe, pulling a drag of it before exhaling it into the bowl. As the smoke hit the now pinkish-red sand, it seemed to come to life. The sand danced playfully within the bowl, twirling around the smoke.
My eyes widened at the bizarre sight. I’d seen so many different types of magic in my life, but this was one I’d never witnessed before. It had to be exclusive to the Oracles. So much about them was kept secret. We didn’t even know what theywere, really. The Oracles weren’t Fae, as they certainly aged somehow. One look at her wrinkly skin proved as much. What she was, was a mystery.
Not Fae. Not human. Just an Oracle.
A creature of the gods. Passing their messages along to their faithful.
The old woman picked up the bowl and began inhaling the concoction contained within. As she did, her silver eyes seemed to ignite. I flinched, even as a peaceful feeling swept through me. The Oracle’s eyes bored into mine, but it was silver fire that looked back at me. Silver fire that soon churned into silver ice. Back and forth it went, fire and ice dancing in a loop within her strange silver orbs.
The Oracle opened her mouth then, and began to speak the words that would change my life forever.
“When the world tips to chaos, the star-blessed heir will rise.
Marked by three:
The sun, the moon, and the stars.
Three hearts to own:
Three tries to find, light and dark in balance.
Three to fight: corruption, greed, and pride.
Three to win: freedom, balance, and love.
The star must be eclipsed.
The light must hide, or all will be lost.
When the darkness claims the light, it will begin,
A new reign of light and dark to see the world saved.
When the fire falls, and the world turns to darkness,
A star will rise to light the world anew.
Until they are fully balanced, the scales will tip,
chaos unleashed, until the final coup.”
Silence followed the heavy words, until Aelius snorted, “Nonsense, as I said. Let’s go.”
His snappish voice made me shudder as I fought the urge to claw his stupidly perfect face. Sometimes, I wondered how this man was my mate. It felt more like we were enemies at times, constantly battling one another for ground in our relationship.
The crone’s knowing gaze met mine. “Sometimes, balance comes in forms unexpected.”
I shivered, unsettled that the Oracle knew my thoughts. Telepathy? Or something else? Body language, maybe? Perhaps the gods still speaking through her?
