The Lost Oracle

03 | Chapter

Pom didn't know when the reek of death was replaced by the soothing scent of rain on the wind. But, the girl was anything but soothed. Her face was swollen and her chest ached. Her voice ran ragged. When she thought she didn't have any tears left, more came to her surprise. Pom's shoulders slumped with the weight of her village. Her people. Everyone was gone. She sniffled and tried to stop her chin from trembling. Gos and Ram hadn't shed any tears. They both stood resolute and strong as they followed the boy who led them.

Pom knew the boy's name was Nelles. He was dressed strange. In fact, all of these people were. Nobody wore pelts like her people. Instead, they wore linen. Soft and woven, adjusting easily to the form of their bodies. They wore tunics, cloaks, heavy boots and belts. Strapped to the belts were a myriad of weapons. Pom had heard of soldiers before. They were suppose to wave a single banner and have matching uniforms. These soldiers were nothing like that. Pom studied Nelles for as long as she could. Anything to keep her distracted. Her eyes finally fell upon the flickering flame of his torch. She stared until it hurt.

Before the first raindrop fell, they reached a small clearing through the thicket of the trees. Makeshift tents were quickly being erected. There were soldiers every which way. Some looked tired and sullen while others guffawed and spoke with one another. There was a large pot half filled with stew towards the center of the camp. Many men sat around the dying embers with their wooden bowls in hand, though by the looks of it, they had already had their fill.

"Lucky for us, there's no storm coming. Just a light rain it seems. That means we're finally able to make camp," Nelles said as he turned to the trio. "If you're hungry, I can show you where all the supplies are. If not, then we should see Lord Lavas immediately."

"Even if we were hungry, do you think we could eat?" Ram finally spoke. Her voice was sharp like the edge of a dagger. But, Pom thought she heard it waver. Nelles stared at his boots in response.

"We're fine. We'd like to meet your Lord," Gos said.

With a nod, Nelles gestured for them to follow. They made their way to a giant tent that looked as if it used to be white. It was tattered and blemished now. Four steeds were tied just outside of the marred canvas drinking from a wooden trough. Two tall men stood at the entrance on guard duty. They held long spears with points at the ends. Just like the ones Pom and Frias used for fishing. Her stomach twisted. Nelles greeted the guards curtly before the woman with the marigold hair appeared in the opening. She beckoned them inside.

"My name is Madame Omhia," she formally introduced herself to Pom and Ram. Her expression was soft while something far away swam behind her eyes. Pom didn't know why, but she felt as if she could trust Omhia. The knotted muscles of her shoulders relaxed. Omhia turned to regard a large man sitting at a desk. "This is Lord Lavas, son of the God of Justice."

Pom gasped. She had never seen such a hulking form before. In fact, she had never seen anything quite like Lord Lavas. He was at least three heads taller than the tallest man she had ever seen. His shoulders and arms were burly and hard. He had a thick black beard and his skin was the color of shallow river stones. He mulled over an assortment of papers sprawled across the small wooden table before turning to greet the villagers.

"I am filled with great sorrow for the loss of life tonight," he began. "There is nothing I can do for their souls now, or for the pain you all are feeling. However, if you need any accommodations, I will readily oblige. My name is Lavas and I am the Vigil of the Oracle, the protector of this realm."

Even Gos's eyes went wide at the sight of the unnatural man. Lord Lavas walked from behind his table and stood before the three. Pom could feel a cold energy, like wind, radiate from his body. Lavas regarded them for a moment before continuing. "I always heard old stories of men in the Gilded Forests who were able to control Epora's natural power. I never really believed it until today."

The Lord's words trailed off as Pom tried to focus. Was this night even real? Every word sounded as if it had traveled through all the oceans of Epora before hitting her ears, muddled and distant. Her pendant sat cold on her chest. The man who stood before her wasn't a man at all. He was some sort of God. Everyone from her village was gone. Frias, Gro and Lo. Gos sent them back to the village to be with their Osaa. Their Osaa.

Pom's stomach took a violent turn as she raced out of the Lord's tent. She barely made it past the horse's trough before retching what little was in her stomach. Her whole world spun. She couldn't think. She couldn't feel. Everything went black.

***

Voices came and went through the darkness, still muted and far away. She wondered how long it had been since the world expired. Was it all some sort of twisted dream? Perhaps a demon had infiltrated her mind. Pom saw a glowing form appear in the distance. It shined against the obsidian world. Pom willed her legs to approach it, but it proved difficult. It was like walking knee-deep against a rushing current, though when she looked at her feet, she saw nothing. Just the same world of ink. Pom felt possessed as she pushed ahead. She needed to get to that shining beacon, whatever it was.

As she approached, she realized it was a person. Pom tried to run. As she got closer, the figure's appearance became more clear. It was a woman. She was the exact same height as Pom. She was dressed in peculiar armor with the scales and color of a scarlet adder. The armor was clean and shined just as the woman's skin did. On her head was a thick helmet with long edges that curved outward. Pom stood still when she saw that the woman had no face. Just willowy skin pulled over a skull. Her eyes caught a glimmer of something hanging from the woman's neck. Pom's breath hitched. It was her pendant.

Pom woke with a jagged gasp, making Nelles jump and drop a bucket of hot water onto himself. She sat straight up and grasped at her pendant. It was still there. She sighed as she turned the cool crystal over in her hands. Pom finally noticed eyes on her. She jerked her head toward Nelles. He wasn't just looking, but staring. Was he angry with her? She held her breath for a moment before a small smile spread on his face. He didn't care about spilling the hot bucket after all.

"Thank the Gods you're awake," he said quietly. "I'll go fetch the others."

Nelles exited the tent, sunlight briefly spilled in as he raised the flap. Pom sat in a minute cot, her feet fell over the edge to the soft ground. She was in her own personal tent. It was nothing as grand as the others, and obviously used to store dry goods by the half empty barrels that stood around her, but she still felt a tinge of guilt creep inside her stomach.

Pom didn't have time to ponder over her dream or think much at all before Ram burst through the entrance. Her face was red and swollen from crying. Her hair was unkempt. Brown tufts were splayed in various directions all around her head. She looked as if she had wrestled with a wild beast all night.

"Pom!" Ram cried as she fell to her knees at her sister's feet. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Pom was dumbfounded. She didn't hear Gos enter directly behind her sister, but she should've known he was there. He was always there. He read the confusion on her face.

"Your sister has been unwell since you fainted," Gos said with a glimmer of a smile. "We're glad to see you awake."

Pom scrambled to her knees as she embraced her sister. They gripped on to each other tight as if they were trying to hold all of their broken pieces back together. However, Pom couldn't bring herself to cry any longer. Instead, she burned. She wanted to steal everything that was stolen from her. She wanted to protect Ram and Gos. She wanted revenge.

"The demigod had a vision of you overnight," Gos said. "He says it's important that you should know."

[wc: 5,388]