We are visiting the oracle. I haven't been told why, but I know it is because of me. My father has not let me leave the grounds for 3 days. What have I done?
I'm absolutely miserable. I have no friends to confide in. Their jealousy quickly pushes them away, although I am often just as jealous of them.
Father wants to know why I am so beautiful yet so broken and sad. I don't think he has realized that I must be cursed. We leave today for Delphi, once the sun rises. It is early and I am awake. It is the only time I may have some peace. Suitor's have not gathered beneath my windows in the early light, creamy butter yellow and sweet orange, and I can hold on to some peace. Once I finish my bath, I pull on a light green and pink chiton and tie my hair, covering it with a square of fabric near my neck.
I leave my chambers and stroll the walk to the front veranda, taking my sweet time. I am terrified of what the oracle may tell me.
Am I unlovable?
Do I really want to know?
I reach the chariot, plucking flowers from a bush to wind into my hair as I sit. When my hands are busy my head is usually quiet. Today nothing can silence my thoughts.
The journey is dusty and bumpy. My back aches and my sandals are too tight. I am also shaking with fear. The flowers in my hair wilt and sag by the time we reach Delphi. I feel the same. I lift my head and keep my face neutral, though I am feeling quite pathetic. I step gingerly down onto the rocky soil and take it in.
I cannot avoid this. There are my father's men surrounding me and only one path ahead. The cave is in front of us and it hardly looks real. Volcanic gas plumes out of the entrance, floating over the ground and obscuring the ground. I watch, feeling very removed, as it twines up one of my ankles and reaches up to me.
"F-Father," I start. I never stutter. I breathe in deep and try again. "Father, must I come with you? I am sure the message can be told to you!" A certain pressure has started in my head and a flower falls from my hair, disappearing in the fog.
He laughs low, coming in close to my face. He grabs my chin roughly and grins.
"You have been nothing but a pain to me, girl. Pampered and adored in my care for nothing. You can't even find a husband with all the beauty you possess. I have tried everything. It will satisfy me greatly to scare you a little, to shake you up." He raises a hand and draws a sharp blow across my left cheek. Never enough to leave more than a bruise, but enough to make me cry out and try to pull my face away from his harsh grip. His eyes narrow and his lip curls like a snake's. The pressure in my head grows.
He lets go and steps back, turning on his heel and opening his arm to let me walk first. Someone shoves me hard from behind and I stumble on a stone. Regaining my footing, I step forward. I remember to raise my chin as I was taught and not to show anything on the face. My steps are even and strong.
I enter the cave. It is large and my breath echoes softly. After several paces, it is so dark I cannot see my own hands. I finally let my tears fall, knowing they cannot be seen. If I am cursed, maybe my father will have me killed. But would death finally be a well deserved rest? I smile sadly as my tears drop onto my stinging cheek.
Soon panic crawls at my throat and my eyes are wide and glassy with tears. I can feel them continue to spill down my face in the darkness. I stop quietly. There is tension in the air, fear and respect for this sacred place. Only my Father and I have come through the cave. The rest will wait outside.
Ahead, a twist in the cave is revealed where the rock glows deep red from the inside out. I never truly believed this was a volcano. I am fascinated.
A shadow falls on the rock.
My breath hitches as I hold it in. A silhouette slides over the rock, vaguely shaped like a human. A man? A woman? It could be a witch. I cannot tell. My Father does not look scared, but I know he is.
I want to run. I want to cover my ears and scream and pretend this isn't real. But I am not a child anymore. I cannot hide from what I see. I realize part of me wants to see. I feel suddenly that I am still smiling.
In that moment I know it can see me.
I can feel it turn towards me. Looking at me, analysing me. I can hear it breathing, raspy and harsh. How old this thing must be. How does it know my prophecy? It is beyond me. Father grabs my wrist harshly and holds me in place. But I know I will no longer run.
I still cannot see a face, or any details, but the thing must have opened its mouth because I hear a low hiss as it begins to speak.
I close my eyes tight.
