The Last Oracle
by Raven Jakubowski
There was a saying among the oracles, when there were still oracles: Every vision is a choice.
Through the window I can see the great capitol of Ethrehym burning in the valley. Warriors will be here soon, and whether they are ours or theirs, I no longer think it matters. I am the only remaining oracle; this is the choice I made almost sixty long years ago.
An oracle's first vision is never discussed, even in the safety of the temple. I never told anyone about mine, about that day when, tumbling through the heather with Tashi, I saw the future rolled out before me like a bolt of black silk. The vision blotted out the summer sky with the quivering night of my death, fire burning in a city, smoke rising like a pale yellow pennant in the dark. There was the smell of ashes on the wind, and the high, keening wail of faceless women far away. I did not know them.