The King bearer three

Part 1: A Girl

It was campfire time, the sunset lighting the flat area beautifully. everyone was smiling, singing along and having fun. Among the camaraderie and merriment of those huddled in groups, one lone girl could be seen in shadow, standing all alone at the back of the pavilion. She was dressed in a black dress coat and tank top, observing the crowd and the happy chaos therein. There was misery too, the mourning of siblings, friends and loved ones, lost in the slaughter of the recent conflict. She was only eleven, barely on the cusp of twelve, when it all started, when the Titan War began. Yet she seemed to have far more experience than most with the forces of violence, carnage, and death. She was drinking, occasionally tipping alcohol at Mr D, before turning the cup back to herself and instantly turning it's contents into ginger beer. She was, after all, only 15. She watched the crowd. The night rolled on.

All was well. Apollo's cabin was singing loudly, a few of the Ares cabin arguing with each other – when do they not argue? - and everyone, overall, was having a blast. Even the girl, who rarely let herself enjoy such moments of calm and camaraderie....

That is until green mist started arising from the ground. Rachel Elizabeth Dare, the Oracle herself, appeared out of nowhere from the cloud of smoke. And.... she spoke. Again. For the third time in as many days. Except it was different. The green smoke radiating from the ground around her was continuous, rising and falling in rippling waves. Before it had been small things, small bursts of prophecy that seemed to slip almost accidentally from the mouth of the gods. Nothing a thing had come from it. It had always been something trivial, mundane. This was neither of those things. This was intentional. This was a warning.

These were the words the oracle spoke:

"Mayhem's heir shall come to bear

The sire of death will meet him there.

And with him comes the unravelling word

And the sending of souls to the underworld.

With this word, unending pain. 

Death shall come to those in vain--" 

However, before she could finish what is likely her next prophecy... Chiron came charging in and knocked Rachel off her chair. Stopping her from speaking, catching her in a bridal carry and rushing her to the Attic. Mr D swiftly followed, seeming to be unusually bothered by this turn of events. As soon as he left, everyone began to whisper and gossip. How could they not, after what just happened? Like always, rumours spoken in hushed tones circled around the rings of campers around the now dying firepit:

"What did she mean?"

"How did this happen?"

"Another prophecy? But why?"

All gossiped, equally confused and disturbed. All, except the girl, who simply poured out her glass as a final homage/fuck you to Mr D.

Ginger ale was nice, but screwing with the Gods was nicer. Especially when screwing with Mr D. Returning to her cabin, the girl waited patiently.

The Oracle remained shut in the attic, constantly rambling prophetic words. The attic was cloaked in smoke, the words she spoke mere wordless sounds spewing from the window – that, or another language completely, some ancient, foreign tongue . It was much like the mist that rose and hissed, emerging over the window ledge. Campers could notice the tone of the mist twisting, changing colour with each passing hour, each hue even more sour. It brought with it a scent to burn with tongues of fire, the camp in which it sat and sired.... As if the situation was to become more and more dire.

The Oracle would have spoken more that night, the girl, everyone, was sure of that. Yet, they were simply unsure as to what. The camp continued living, the world remained turning, and eventually some forgot that haunting night, those troubling words from the oracles mouth. The girl would not. It lead to death, and such things, the events and words which foreshadowed death, were not to be forgotten. Much less from the mouth of gods.