The Shattered Oracle - I - In the Refuge of the Azhemyra - Page 3

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I

In the Refuge of the Azhemyra

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- Page Three -

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Thraya's mother gave a warming chuckle at her husband's words. She held her eyes on him, again saying something that words couldn't properly express. Although they both came from very different life choices and from different castes, they had always loved one another and took great pride in their family.

"I'm not going to Morrthault and joining the Authrak to spite you, mother."

The words crept out like dry and crackling leaves from Thraya's throat. She gave a hard swallow and a deep breath. She felt Serranos stop his sobbing for a moment and then his arm lifted up to hug her under her ribs.

"I know, Thraya. I don't expect you to follow in my footsteps and join the Sharr-vhult. You must choose your own path. I am thankful that you're going with Serranos to Morrthault City upon both of your graduations. He will need help and guidance when he starts his training with the Guardians."

Serranos stopped his sobbing and pulled away from his sister. He shuffled back into his chair and then looked up at Thraya skeptically through the corner of his glasses. He seemed to be more resolved now. With a few wipes of his face on his sleeves, he had gotten his composure back.

"If you must go. I want you home before we leave. I won't become a Guardian without you."

Thraya's mother pulled her head back in a mock sense of disbelief. Her eyes went wide with an exaggerated sense of awe at the command her son was now displaying. She softened her features and leaned forward, grasping his small hand in hers.

"I can't promise such. Understand that I want to. It is my place to know the future fates, but beyond my departure to the Ullthosian Sanctum, I can't see further. I will do whatever it takes to be back before the two of you depart."

Serrano's resolve quickly faded but he tried to remain strong. He gave a sideways sort of nod.

"More than anything else, whether I can get back or not, please remember one important thing."

Thraya's mother's eyes began to well up once again. She grabbed Serrano's hand tightly in her left hand and then reached forward to grab Thraya's with the right.

"I love all of you. No matter what happens. No matter if I'm here or not. No matter what might befall us in the future. Always remember that I love you. It is for your future that I do what I must do now. I'm going to the Ullthosian Temple to find out what will befall our people, and it is my duty to ensure the safety of the Hoelath Empire. But all I care about are you. Serranos. Thraya. Jhulessi. Nesbinet. And my dear Jornath. I love you all."

Thraya's mother turned her gaze from each of her children and then up to her husband. Tears ran down her face and Thraya's father returned the sentiment. Thraya had never seen her father cry before and this made her want to as well.

Thraya had to turn her eyes away or else she would begin sobbing. She looked over to the twins to make sure they were okay. Both had stopped playing with their toys to stare silently up at their mother. It only took a moment for each of their midnight-blue eyes to well up with tears as well.

"I love all of you so very much. Not even death would tear me away from you. Always remember that I'm with you, no matter what. I am a part of you, as you are all a part of me. I will always be watching over you."

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The Shattered Oracle - I - In the Refuge of the Azhemyra - Page 2

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I

In the Refuge of the Azhemyra

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- Page Two -

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"This is a matter of the future of our people. Do you remember that tale I told you of Boulka the Warrior-Queen?"

Serranos gave a nod and a long sniffle. He lifted one of his ill-fitting sleeves to rub at his nose.

"Well, Boulka couldn't have saved the old Morthavi Empire from the Demon-King Vholgisaal without the help of the prophecies. You do remember the old Morthavi prophecies from the Book of Talmuis, right?"

Serranos managed to clear his nose with another long sniffle. He raised his head up; his interest piqued and his emotions momentarily suspended. He was like his father and loved old lore and fables. He opened his mouth to reply, his tongue rolling around for a moment and then his jaw shut.

"Well, what I must do is write those prophecies. I fear that another great war will happen soon. It's my job to write down the information that a new Warrior-Queen, or Warrior-King, might use to save all of us."

The words were followed by an exaggerated nod and Serranos took a moment of quiet contemplation to think on his mother's words. His eyes darted through his glasses up to his father. He turned his head to look at his sister once again. He then returned his eyes to his mother.

"Someone else can do it. I want you home."

The tears began anew and Serranos pulled his hand from his mother's grip. His chin danced on his face and he muttered quiet cries under his breath.

Thraya, without thought, reached over with her left hand to grab the boy's chair and drag it close to her. She lifted her right to grab him at the base of the neck. With a light touch, she brought her brother's face into her arm and chest to comfort him. The boy began to wail softly into the fabric of her tunic.

Thraya's mother pulled back and pushed on the wooden back of her chair. She gave a nod to her daughter, knowing that she would take care of Serranos. They had always been close and Thraya had always watched over him like a mother authroc to her chick. Thraya's mother's eyes began to well with tears as well.

"As for you two..."

Thraya's mother quickly stifled her emotions and turned in her chair to look at the twins playing on the floor nearby. Both stopped their play to look straight up at their mother's face. Unlike the rest of the family who had auburn hair like their mother, the twins had stark white hair from birth.

"You two understand. Correct?"

The twins held eye contact with Thraya's mother for a moment. They turned to look at each other, seeming to speak a language without words; complex thoughts beamed into each other's tiny skulls. They momentarily came to a consensus and then returned their eyes to their mother. No words were spoken but the air seemed to dance with a strange energy.

"Good. I know you two will behave. All that I ask is that you start learning how to speak more. Once you go to school, you'll unnerve the other children."

One of the twins seemed to squint for a moment, picking up something from their mother. Both soon shrugged the sentiment off and returned to playing with their toys.

Thraya's mother turned to look up at her husband, now leaning on the wooden doorway with his arms crossed. His eyes turned to the twins and then back to his wife's eyes.

"You can handle them, right? Who'd of thought the youngest would be so adept at Haeth. They'll be oracles in no time."

"Just like their mother."

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The Shattered Oracle - I - In the Refuge of the Azhemyra - Page 1

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I

In the Refuge of the Azhemyra

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- Page One -

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"While I'm gone, Thraya, it will be your job to take care of your brother and the twins."

Thraya sat with her wrists crossed over her lap. She gave a single downcast nod. She held her eyes on the ground for a moment and then cautiously looked up through her long, auburn hair at her mother.

Despite the length of hair, she hid her features beneath, her brilliant blue eyes managed to pierce through the shadow. Tears had begun to well up, giving her eyes the appearance of shimmering ice.

"Please don't start. It's only two years. It may seem like a long time to you — being so young — but the time will fly and I'll soon be home."

Thraya's mother reached forward from her chair. She lightly grasped her daughter's arm with her left hand, a show of both command and assurance. With her right, she gently moved Thraya's hair from her face and tucked it behind one of her ears.

Thraya raised her chin up fully. A single tear ran down her high cheekbones and over the myriad freckles that adorned her young face. She remained silent and held eyes with her mother.

"I need you to stay an extra year in Neshran. You remember that I told you this, earlier? It's not a punishment, dear. I need you to know that."

Thraya gave another single nod. Her eyes dropped again, as did a few scarlet locks of hair. She gave a heavy breath — a sigh of reluctance with her mother's wishes — but the breath held no sound.

"I don't know if I'll have finished the rituals before you and Serranos head off to Morrthault City for your education. I do hope I will be back before then. It means the world to me, please remember that."

Thraya's lower lip began to quiver despite how calm and resigned she seemed. Two of her fingers crept up to tug on the fingers of her other hand.

"Serranos."

Thraya's mother turned from her with a slight groan from her old and worn wooden chair. She made eye contact with the young boy sitting on his own chair beside Thraya.

"You take care of your sister and the twins. You follow what your father says while I'm gone. He is the master of the house."

Thraya's eyes looked up and beyond her mother to her father standing near the entrance to the dining area. He gave a sardonic smile at these words while rolling his eyes. She wanted to smile at her father, but she couldn't muster the energy. Thraya turned her head slightly to look over to her younger brother.

Serranos met her eyes for a moment. His blue-green eyes were always comically magnified, given the large spectacles he wore. She could see his eyes welling up with tears as well. Far more than Thraya, given how young and emotionally sensitive he was.

"I don't want you to go."

The tiny voice was like a faint whisper on the air. Serranos adjusted his glasses with a single hand, letting the tears flow beneath the rims and down his face. He reached out for the gray robes draped over his mother's leg before him.

"We talked about this earlier, Serranos. I have to. It's not just a matter of duty, but..."

Thraya's mother reached out to hold Serranos' hand above her robes. She turned her head to share a look with her husband at the edge of the room. They both nodded to each other, agreeing to some question and answer that was beyond words.

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