Chief Yamano couldn't stifle his sense of unease as he followed his cloaked guide down through the temple. The flickering torch cast strange shadows on the countless engravings covering the walls and ceiling. Even the catacombs of the kings weren't this intricate. Unlike the catacombs, none of these carvings were writing. He stopped for a moment, trying to decipher some meaning from the walls. Flowing lines and spirals, geometric shape and patterns... Not even images, just the suggestion of them.

"Come." The guide gestured him forward, one hand falling out of her sleeve to reveal skin completely covered in tattoos of red and black nearly identical to the ones surrounding him. Yamato hurried forward, careful to avoid brushing against the strange markings.

Damned Mystics.

For all of the similarities that the hallways had to a dungeon, the room that he was lead to was surprisingly comfortable and spacious, lit by three large windows cut into the cliff face. He remembered seeing them on his ride up, high on the sheer cliff face. If this was a prison, those windows were just as effective as a solid wall.

Yamano's attention was drawn to the figure on one side of the room, meditating staring into a candle. She was dressed in a simple red tunic, baring her head and arms to his curiosity. She was completely shaven, lacking even eyebrows, and was similarly covered in tattoos, down to her lips and eyelids. The black and red ink made their own patterns, converging and crossing, joining and splitting, dancing like flames in a fire. It would have looked beautiful on a tapestry. Etched into a scalp as it was, it was disconcerting. He looked to his guide, who had pushed back her hood. She too was bald and covered in tattoos.

He had to focus, and stay calm. He wouldn't be here without good reason. He NEEDED to get through this.

Eventually, the women broke her meditation and shakily got to her feet. She was young, he realized. Quite young. Not a youth, but definitely not one he would have expected to wield the power of prophecy. She walked slowly over and bowed before him, not meeting his eyes even when she stood back up. She rung her hands nervously.

"So this is the Oracle?"

"Yes" the guide said as the girl shook her head.

"It's hard to explain." The girl mumbled.

Yamato looked between the two confused. He could get not being able to see e future all the time. But both being and not being an Oracle wasn't how that worked.

"Can we talk to him?"

Him? Yamato looked around the room. There weren't any other doors, nor hangings to conceal them behind.

"No, I-I..." The girl stopped as if interrupted by an invisible voice. "But he wouldn't understand!" This time the girl was referring to him, Yamano could tell. But she didn't appear to be talking to his guide, but to... Herself? This was getting a bit too strange.

The girl closed her eyes and evened her breathing, meditating. After just a few seconds, her eyes snapped open, looking directly at him.

"So." Her voice was deeper, had lost that wavering indecision. "You have a question for me?" She stood tall now, with her chin up and her back straight. It was like she had transformed into a different person entirely.

So this was what an Oracle looked like.

"If you take any longer the drawstring will cut through your fingers." He blinked, realizing that he had drifted off in thought.

"Yes, my apologies. I have a rather sensitive and important decision to put before you." Yamano looked between the two priestesses. "It CANNOT leave this room." He sighed. There really wasn't any delicate way to phrase this. "Should I kill the King?"

It wasn't quite that simple. The current King had been an effective ruler... 20 years ago. Now it took the combined efforts of all of his advisors to keep the spreading empire of the Arathee growing. Yamano was also the King's chosen successor. He new he could do a better job. But to commit regicide...

His guide looked like she would have raised her eyebrows, had she had any. The oracle was teaching the tattoo lines across her body, how they curved and split and flowed.

"They are stars" his guide suspected to him, sensing his curiosity. "Constellations, patterns, hundreds of them layered on each other."

He frowned. "If they are all of the stars, why your tattoos different?"

The guide smiled. "Have you ever looked at they sky? REALLY looked. Even if we patterned every man, women, and child in the mountains, we would not cover half the sky."

He looked back at the Oracle, who seemed to have stopped her strange ritual. "Do you have my answer? Should I kill him?"

The oracle looked up, her predatory smile giving Yamano the same sinking feeling of dread that he had had when entering the temple. He took a step back as she walked forward.

"Yes, you should." She leaned in, whispering into his ear.

"But you won't."