Abigail goes to Oracle and asks him about herself.
Oracle: What is it you wish to ask the gods?
Abigail: Will I ever bear another child, o wise one?
Oracle: I cannot see another child. No matter how far I look.
Abigail: Then what do you see?
Oracle: I see a harvest celebrated in blood, I see a trickster whose weapon cleaves you, I see a city made of marble, and a burning, broiling ocean.
Abigail: No one of your prophecies do I understand.
Oracle: It is the way of prophecy, only to be understood when it has happened, and it is too late to change it.
Abigail: When will I die?
Oracle: Frigg, the wife of Odin, has already made a decision, but it has not yet been vouchsafed to me, come back another day, Earl and Shield-maiden, and perhaps I may tell you exactly the moment of your de
