EPISODE 19: THE ORACLE’S BARGAIN
844 Words
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The storm that had raged since they left Solbrecht finally broke.
Dawn shimmered through silver clouds as the companions crossed into the Ashen Highlands—land of myths, land of the Last Oracle.
Tristan rode ahead, the scroll from Kaela heavy in his satchel. Beneath his ribs, the embermark from the throne pulsed faintly, a reminder of what he had become—of the fire now sleeping in his veins. His thoughts were of Selene, pale and fading, resting on a litter Kaela enchanted to float behind them.
Ariana rode silently, watching the shadows that moved in the trees. She hadn't slept in days.
They were nearing the end of the known world. And beyond the hills lay the Oracle—seer of the Vault, guardian of the First Flame.
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The Oracle's Sanctuary — A Trial of the Soul
The cliffs parted like a wound, revealing a narrow path carved into obsidian rock. Strange flowers bloomed on the sides, glowing with a soft bioluminescence that pulsed like breathing.
At the summit stood a gate with no doors—just air shimmering like water, and a whispering wind that spoke in languages Tristan could almost remember.
“It’s alive,” Kaela murmured.
“It’s judging,” Ariana corrected.
Tristan stepped forward.
The air thickened. Shadows formed, took shape. Himself—as a child. As a traitor. As a king of ash.
Then Lucien, eyes hollow, smiling sadly.
You will never save her, the vision said.
Tristan gritted his teeth and walked through the veil.
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Inside the Oracle’s Realm
They emerged into a place without time.
Floating stone steps wound through empty sky, leading to a palace made of bones and moonlight. The stars here didn’t move. The wind smelled of memory and blood.
The Oracle waited on a dais of molten silver.
She was blind, her eyes burned away by prophecy. Yet when she looked at Tristan, he felt his soul unravel.
“You wear fire where there should be frost,” she said.
“I didn’t choose this,” he replied.
“No one ever does. Sit.”
He obeyed.
The Oracle poured ink onto the floor. It writhed into shapes—flames, crowns, dragons, stars colliding.
“You seek the Vault of Shadows,” she said. “You seek the Crown of Embers.”
“Yes.”
She reached forward and placed her fingers on his chest.
“Your soul is cracked. The fire is not stable. If you wear another crown, it may kill you.”
“I know.”
“And if it doesn’t... it may destroy the world.”
“I’d rather die than let Lucien become a god.”
The Oracle smiled. It was not a kind smile.
“Then let me show you the price.”
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The Bargain — Visions of Ruin
In a flash, Tristan stood on a battlefield.
Armies burned around him. Cities fell from the sky. Dragons screamed. Oceans boiled.
At the center stood Lucien—half man, half divine flame. And opposite him, Tristan... crowned, armored in light and fire, the Crown of Embers fused with the mark on his chest.
They clashed.
Each blow fractured reality.
Each scream became a god's cry.
And then... silence.
Tristan stood alone on a world of ash.
Selene gone. Kaela gone. Ariana gone. Everyone—gone.
He fell to his knees.
And woke up.
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The Oracle's Test — Sacrifice
“You’ve seen what you could become,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Would you still seek the crown?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must offer something. The Vault demands balance.”
She held out her hand.
“Your greatest tie. Your deepest bond. Give it up, or turn back now.”
Tristan looked at Selene.
“No,” he whispered.
“Then what will you give?”
Ariana stepped forward.
“I will,” she said.
Tristan turned. “No. You don’t understand—”
“I do,” she said softly. “I’ve always known. I love you. But you never loved me like that.”
She kissed him.
“I offer my heart. My fate. My future.”
The Oracle nodded. The dais split. A staircase of darkness unfolded.
“Then go. The Vault awaits.”
Ariana turned to Tristan, tears in her eyes. “Don’t let this be for nothing.”
He reached for her, but she was already fading.
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The Descent — Into the Vault
They descended for what felt like eternity.
No light. No sound. Just breath. Just memory.
Selene awoke briefly, her fingers brushing his.
“You have to come back,” she said. “Don’t lose yourself.”
“I won’t,” Tristan promised.
At the bottom, the Crown of Embers floated in a sea of fire.
Not metal. Not forged. A living, breathing thing of energy and agony.
It spoke with her voice. With Ariana’s. With Kaela’s.
Will you burn for them?
Tristan stepped forward.
“Yes.”
The crown came to him.
And the world changed.
TO BE CONTINUED
- Writer
