The True Oracle Ch. 02

A flurry of slashes sliced efficiently through armor, muscle and blood, leaving the men gasping and convulsing in their death throes. As the final man fell, clutching a neck gushing with blood, Gavin retracted the blades and calmly stepped back. He looked to the side, where Adastriana emerged, pulling off the helm she had worn as part of her disguise. She looked about at the carnage. In the space of mere seconds, Gavin had reduced a dozen men to nothing more than well-trained meat.

"It frightens me, how efficient you are," she said.

He gave a short, stiff nod. "Sometimes it frightens me, too," he admitted. He held out a hand. "The time has come."

Adastriana took a breath, then tentatively slid her hand into Gavin's. Together, they faced the impressive door to the Oracle's chamber.

* * * *

She did not need to be the True Oracle to deduce what had occurred on the other side of the chamber door. Tannamille sat upon her golden throne, glaring at the portal as she anticipated the arrival of her guests. She effected a haughty expression, conscious of the presence of the Dark One even if she could not see him.

"It seems your plan has developed a wrinkle," came the menacing voice.

"A minor one," she responded arrogantly. She pressed the aura-touched ring upon her finger, activating her personal armor. In a moment, she was surrounded in a hazy, shimmering field which no conventional blade or bullet could penetrate.

The chamber door burst open to an imposing sight. The armored knight-gunman, spattered with the blood of those he had slain, stepped boldly into the room, followed by the zantrist. Tannamille had to admit the knight was impressive. Under different circumstances, she might have made him her personal protector.

Gavin stopped halfway to the True Oracle's throne. Behind him, Adastriana pushed the door closed, then joined the knight. In contrast to Gavin, the zantrist looked timid, fearful. The Oracle smiled hungrily upon her.

She returned her attention to the knight-gunman. "So you have arrived," Tannamille said casually, as if greeting guests who had come calling for tea.

"I have never failed a quest," Gavin declared. "I was not about to begin with this one."

Tannamille gave a wry look. "How admirable."

"Of course, the real question here is, just what was my quest in the first place?" he continued, giving the Oracle a direct look. He reached over his shoulder and extracted from the small pack the book he had been given. Tannamille's superior smile drained away as she recognized it.

"You weren't expecting to see this, were you?" Gavin asked rhetorically. "In fact, you thought I was only charged with bringing Adastriana to you. That is, after all, what your divination told you, isn't it?"

The Oracle narrowed her eyes in angry suspicion. "Where did you get the Journal?"

Gavin ignored her question. "This," he said, holding up the book. "Was my quest. But so was Adastriana. I just did not know that at first. But now that I have brought them both here, everything I have learned makes sense."

"And just what have you learned?" the Oracle asked with a condescending glare.

"That the gods have abandoned you," Gavin said. "And with good reason. You have abused your power, and taken from those who came to replace you both theirs, and their lives. For four decades, you have maintained the corruption and the charade. You arrogantly thought you could continue forever.

"You see, after the revelation that you remained the Oracle and his daughter did not return home, the father of your first victim became suspicious. He devoted his life to finding her, taking an influential position that would give him the resources to find his daughter. Over the course of nearly forty years, he discovered what had happened, and he located his daughter's three most treasured possessions: a lady's silk handkerchief, the Journal of Insight, and the knife her father had given her for protection. But it was not until recently that he discovered who had killed his daughter, and why.

"But just a few days ago, after all those years of careful inquiry and some timely divinations, he learned everything. And thanks to Adastriana, all that he learned was told to me."

"It means nothing," Tannamille claimed. "You are a knight-gunman. You are bound by honor to serve your minister, who serves your sovereignty, which ultimately serves me."

The knight nodded. "That is true."

Tannamille sneered. "Take a knee."

Gavin did not hesitate to do as he was told. Beside him, Adastriana watched, having struggled to remain silent throughout the exchange. But now she could hold her tongue no longer.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"I am following my duty," Gavin explained calmly, keeping his eyes on Tannamille. "Something you will come to understand."

"All men and beasts have a place in the world, Adastriana," the Oracle said. "Especially you."

The zantrist stared at the woman. "What are you talking about?"

Tannamille sneered. "We will get to that in a moment." She addressed Gavin once more and stood, stepping away from her throne. She approached until she stood over the knight-gunman. "Give me the Journal."

"I cannot do that."

The woman's eyes flared. "Give me the Journal!"

"You do not seem to understand how a knight's quest works, Oracle. No one, not I, not you, not even the Dark One himself, can challenge the dictates of my quest."

"And just what, exactly, was this quest?"

Gavin met the woman's eyes. "To deliver this book to the True Oracle in Neustis."

The woman's face reddened with rage. "Then give me the journal!"

Gavin remained unfazed, speaking calmly. "You are not the True Oracle." He turned his head and looked calmly upon Adastriana. "She is."

With a frustrated cry, Tannamille slapped Gavin as viciously as she could. Thanks to her armor of haze, the blow left a slash across his cheek. Gavin only barely flinched. He did not touch the wound.

The Oracle stared hard upon Adastriana, who trembled with uncertainty and fear. "That is not to happen," Tannamille proclaimed, looking upon Gavin with contempt. "Unless I abdicate, which I will not do, or you kill me, which you cannot do."

Gavin stared back, blood trickling down his cheek. He looked as if he was waiting for something.

The Oracle took a step back. She chuckled malevolently. "What a tragedy. To be sent so far to exact a father's revenge, only to be undone by duty and honor. Draw the blade your minister gave you."

Again without hesitation, Gavin did so.

"How wonderfully poetic it will be for you to kill yourself with that knife, don't you think?"

Adastriana's eyes bulged. "What? No! Gavin!"

"Do it!" hissed the Oracle.

"No! Gavin, don't do it!" Adastriana shrieked.

But the knight-gunman gave his lover a strangely calm smile. "I must," he said, turning the knife about in his hand so that the tip was pressed against his midriff. "It is my duty." With those words, Gavin drove the blade into his belly. He grunted with the sudden, searing pain. His face quivered.

Adastriana turned away in horror. Her heart hammered. Tears flowed from her eyes.

"How delicious," commented the Oracle, watching Gavin as he swayed. She stepped closer, gloating. "I want you to know, before you die, that your lovely temple whore will die much more slowly than you, and that I will continue on as the True Oracle. Your life, Gavin Reed, has been meaningless."

The struggle to hold in the pain was telling upon Gavin's face. But even as the spectre of death hovered over him, he yet remained calm. "And yours was wasted," he responded. With the last of his strength, he jerked the blade from his abdomen, turned it about, and stabbed with all the force he could muster into and through the Oracle's haze armor.

The bloodied knife bit deep, all the way to the woman's spine. Shock and pain were instantly frozen upon her face. She looked down upon the impossible. No blade ever crafted was supposedly able to penetrate her defenses. "H-how . . .?"

Gavin stared into the dying woman's quivering eyes as she dropped to her knees before him. "Aura-touched," he spat. "By the spirit of the True Oracle you murdered. That, I think, is poetic." He settled a hand to the woman's forehead and shoved, sending her sprawling upon the golden floor. Then he also toppled onto his back, his own strength finally fleeing.

"Gavin!" cried Adastriana, falling beside him. "Don't die!"

He smiled through bloodstained teeth. "It is my duty and my destiny," he managed to say. He took up the book and offered it to her with a shaking hand. "For you, True Oracle. It is finally in your hands."

Gingerly, she took it, weeping upon Gavin's form as the man closed his eyes. His bloody lips curled into a smile.

A roaring howl suddenly filled the room, startling Adastriana. She looked to the still body of the Oracle, witnessing the most terrifying and fantastic thing she had ever witnessed. Shimmering, dark, demonic forms materialized in the air, kneeling over the dead woman's body like blacknails preparing to feast. But their clawed hands went through the flesh without marring it, and from the corpse they pulled a ghostly, struggling figure of an old woman, her face twisted in abject horror.

The voice that tore from her was ghostly and ethereal, filling the air with its terrified content. "Do not take me! Malefleas! I will do anything! Anything!"

But the demonic figures only laughed, shrill, evil, cackling sounds that bespoke an eternity of agony to come. Amid a brilliant flash of hellfire, they and the spirit of Tannamille were gone.

"Now that sight always brings a little tear to my eye," came a deep voice.

Adastriana lifted her head to behold the Dark One. He gave her a smile that seemed unexpectedly benevolent. "I am going to have fun with that one," he remarked casually. "As for you, True Oracle, I'll be expecting great things."

Adastriana was numb, unable to speak. The presence of a living god, especially one so nefarious, filled her with confusion and trepidation. She was unsure how to speak or act.

The Dark One stepped beside her, looking down upon Gavin's body. "A truly noble sacrifice," he said. "Even I was touched. Of course, I can appreciate the irony of the situation."

Adastriana sniffled, looking upon Gavin's calm, still face. "What irony?" she managed to ask, having found her voice.

The Dark One leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Why, the handkerchief, of course," he said simply.

A burst of hope blossomed in Adastriana's heart. The handkerchief! He said it would heal any wound, no matter how grievous! She clawed at Gavin's armor, finding the small breast pocket with the piece of white silk within. Clenching it in her teeth, she searched for the straps and buckles that secured the man's armor. In moments, her frantic movements had the chestpiece loosened enough that she could slip her hand within. She shoved the handkerchief inside, covering the wound, then cupped the man's face.

"Gavin," she said, then again and again, looking for any sign of life within him.

"This is not the end, Gavin," she insisted. "This was not your only destiny. Come back to me, Gavin. Come back to me!"

For moments that seemed endless, she stared upon the man, until finally, he heaved as new breath entered his body. His eyes flashed open wide. He slapped hands to the floor.

"Gavin!" Adastriana exclaimed, streaming new tears, those of delight. She clutched him tightly, head upon his chest.

Finally, she lifted up, smiling upon the man beneath her. He smiled back, fully and deeply. "I was rather hoping you would remember the handkerchief."

She rubbed tears from her face. "I had . . ." she looked around the chamber for signs of the Dark One, but there were none. ". . . an inspiration . . . ."

"Inspiration is always good," Gavin said as he sat up. He slid his hand beneath the armor and pulled out the once more pristine handkerchief. It felt differently now, less smooth. Onamara's aura, the knight realized, was gone. The power she had unintentionally infused into the handkerchief and knife had fulfilled its purpose. The revelation lightened Gavin's heart.

"What happens now?" Adastriana asked.

Gavin looked to her, then to the throne, then back. "I would say it is time you sat upon your throne."

The zantrist paled. "I cannot. I am not the True Oracle."

He stood and took her shoulders in hand. "I am afraid you are," he said. "That was the point of all this. To end the false oracle's reign and begin your own. That is your destiny."

Adastriana wavered on unsure feet. "I never wanted this," she insisted.

He shrugged. "I never wanted to die."

She sputtered an uneasy laugh. "Good point," she said, then looked to the book she still held. "Perhaps . . . ." she trailed off, turning the silver lock that held the Journal of Insight closed. It opened to a page inscribed with shimmering black ink, as if the words had just been written. Adastriana's eyes widened as she read the words.

"What does it say?" Gavin asked.

The woman turned away, reading the page and its words over and over. She stepped as if by chance to the throne, then sat upon it. Finally, she lifted her head to look upon Gavin. "It says-"

But she was interrupted as the doors burst open before a flood of armored men. They charged into the oracle's chamber but stumbled to a halt upon seeing the body upon the ground and the two strangers.

One of the men stepped forward. "The Oracle! You've killed her!"

A dozen weapons and more were leveled upon Gavin. At their distance, he knew, they would cut him down before he had the chance to engage them. After all, the only weapons he had left were his blades.

"No." The single word rolled out as if spoken by a dozen voices at once.

All eyes looked to Adastriana. She sat fully upon the throne, eyes ghostly white. The voices came from the air around her as her lips moved.

"The True Oracle has been found. She is Adastriana, Harbinger of the Rebirth. Her reign will return life to the world."

* * * *

Gavin looked down into the open courtyard below, watching the gathering that surrounded Adastriana. Over the course of the preceding few days, as news of the new True Oracle spread, envoys from all the sovereignties had begun arriving. They doted upon her, listening to the otherworldly voices that flowed from her lips. Adastriana spoke volumes, revealing new ways of tilling the land, of cultivating new crops, of taming the wastelands and bringing them back to fruition.

It may not have been the destiny you wanted, Adastriana, but you were needed. Gavin allowed himself a smile. He had not had a single moment alone with her, but he had expected that. His lover was a busy and much-demanded woman, now.

At least, for the next thirteen years . . . .

* * * *

The Minister of Compliance knelt before the altar within his study. Upon it lay the only picture he possessed of his long-dead daughter. Not a day in four decades had passed that he did not look upon it and hope for justice and salvation. Not a day had passed that saw a smile come to his lips.

But there was a smile now.

"It is finally done, my daughter," he whispered to her visage. "You may rest peacefully now, and know that I will soon be with you." He made the Circle of Life and stood.

"It might have helped had I known the truth from the beginning," came a familiar voice from behind.

The Minister turned, settling a proud gaze upon Gavin Reed, his most accomplished and trusted knight-gunman. "Had you known the truth, things would not have turned out as they did."

Gavin gave a small smile as well. "Perhaps not."

"So," said the Minister. "What comes of you now? I assume you have become part of the court of Her Truthfulness."

Gavin shook his head. "Actually, no," he said. "In fact, she did not even offer."

The Minister looked surprised. "She did not?"

The smile upon the knight-gunman's face grew. He was getting used to using his facial muscles in that way. "I think I have been in service long enough," he declared. "I have fulfilled the duties of my station; my seven years have passed."

The Minister nodded slowly in understanding. "What will you do?"

"I am not sure," Gavin said with a shrug. "And I am glad for that. I figure I will do some traveling, perhaps visit other lands. I'll need to keep myself busy for the next thirteen years."

"Thirteen -?" began the Minister in mild confusion, but he stopped himself and smiled. "Ah, yes, of course."

Gavin straightened formally and made the Circle of Life over his chest. "Gods be with you, Minister."

The elderly man returned the gesture. "Gods be with you, Gavin Reed. And, Gavin?"

"Yes?"

"My thanks for what you have done to brighten an old man's heart."

The smile returned to Gavin's face. "It was my duty."

-fin-