I wanted you to go away.
Because of you, my nameless little troublemaker, my life has been ripped apart. I have many reasons for hating you and more for wishing your life to end. The Lord must have laughed when He touched my life with you. He knew what He was doing. I was only to trust Him. Now The Day draws nearer, I am almost excited to think of it.
I need this separation, to revel in the moment when you are no longer a part of me. To look at your miserable, wretched existence, knowing I am no longer bound to you. I am living for The Day.
You cannot not understand the inconvenience you are, dear nameless child. Because of you, I could die. Oracles are forbidden to bear children. Your father died, the week I discovered you, gone before our private marriage could become public. The Warlord forced me to become an Oracle, when he saw evidence of my future-sight.
My life has been cruel, child of mine. Barren and empty for so long, the maternal ache once nurtured has turned to the dust haunting the corners of my soul.
I no longer craved you, child.
There was no desire to gaze upon your innocence or to revel in your wonder. My only wish was for this birth to be quick and painless.
It was a foolish wish, for as an Oracle’s child, your birth would be filled with every pain imaginable known to Terinth. You will be born with my curse, for I cannot call precognition a gift. Who would willingly chose to see glimpses of a possible future?
I loathed the thought of bringing you into such a wicked world, child. Terinth has fallen, but only because of wars that cannot end until the Chosen One is born. Your father’s death triggered my Oracle transformation. I wish I might have been overlooked. The visions I see, wound me. It cannot be the Lord’s wish for me to play a pawn in games of life and death.
I cannot keep the predictions to myself. As much as I do not want you, I cannot endanger you. They will kill in their pursuit of the knowledge I possess. Perhaps I love you, child.
But I am tired of thinking now; everything fiber within aches and burns.
“Sheryle?” Orrent is my sister-oracle, a whisper of a girl, hovering nearby.
My head ached. I cannot ignore you, impertinent child. You demand your right to live…and beg your release from me. “Now, Orrent.” I cried.
The fear in her eyes was temporary. Concern runs deep within her veins. “I shall summon the Mistress Healer.”
“Dare we trust her?”
“Aye. They wronged her as they did you. She will help. You cannot lose this child.”
Orrent vanished and reappeared in the time it took to offer every prayer imaginable to heaven. I am far from perfect in every way possible, but dark as I am, I would never wish this nightmare upon any other.
Today is The Day. I almost wished it wasn’t.
My screams are heard by no one, my tears fall on the ground. With every torturous twitch, you are closer to the life you so desperately want, child. The Mistress Healer heals the damage of your untimely birth. I feel her gift of power as the coolness that drapes over me like a heavy veil.
In your absence, Orrent will bathe and wrap you. I am left in the stillness of the room, I cried as the Mistress Healer collapsed, unconscious. It has almost killed her to help me.
It hurt to know her sacrifice.
Orrent returned, bolting the door behind her, a beautifully bittersweet expression upon her face. “A strong lad.” She brushed your tiny lips with trembling fingers. “He will save us.”
Time stopped as I held you for the first time. What a red, wrinkled, quiet, little man-creature you are. Something akin to happiness threatened to break out of my shattered heart. My tears splashed on your tiny cheeks as you stare upwards at me. I wiped them away as His presence settled over us.
Now I understand the visions dancing through my head. You are the Chosen One, my child. My shattered heart is still breaking, for I know the trials ahead of you. But I hold you as close to my heart as I can for I know I will never be separated from you.
My son, Hadrian.
Oracle-a woman surviving extreme emotional or physical trauma which causes her intuitive sense to morph, creating the sensitive ability of precognition.
Mistress Healer-Chief Oracle with healing gifts.
Terinth-a world at war
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