The young mother briskly stopped running towards her daughter. Alarmed by what she just heard, she started to scan the room for the presence of a hostile creature.

  “It’s here, mama, underneath the sofa,” Tieve said as she waved her hand to make her mother come over. The young woman carefully proceeded walking to her daughter and sat down on her knees next to the little girl.

  “Under here, you say, sweetheart?” she asked, her voice trembling. Little Tieve nodded with enthusiastic ignorance at the frightened face of her mother.

  The young woman carefully ducked down to peak underneath the sofa and saw two brightly shining eyes staring back at her. They almost looked like little lights in contrast to the darkness of the stone floor. To her great relief, the creature in front of her was even smaller than a dog and had a furry skin, which made it look rather harmless. She got back up and looked at her daughter.

  “What is this little creature?” she asked, calmed.

  “This is called ‘a cat’.”

  The sudden reply coming from the other side of the room made the young woman jump up and rapidly pull her daughter behind her. A woman, dressed in a long, hooded red cloak and similarly coloured long skirt was standing by the heavy wooden door. Her face was covered by a white mask which stopped right above her crimson lips. There were several cut-outs in the mask from where her eyes could be looking at them, but the holes were black as night. Their position and shape reminded the young mother of a butterfly or moth. It was a disturbing sight to see. Masks were often used by hunters in the high north, meant to protect the skin of their faces from the cleaving cold. The hunters usually pitched them to distinguish themselves in a group, and to add some terror to their appearance. She had seen horrific masks throughout her youth, resembling monsters and dreadful imaginary creatures. Still, the mask in front of her, defined by simplicity of shape and colour, generated an averseness she never experienced with any of the hunter’s disguises. It felt wrong, seeing a neatly dressed woman hiding herself like this.

  “I started to wonder if I’d ever meet you here in person, Allana.”

  Allana automatically took a step back when hearing her name.

  “How do you know my name?” she replied to the white mask.

  The red lips of the woman thinned into a smile. “You came here to seek me. You should have an idea.” Then she gestured at the velvet sofa where the cat was hiding. “Please, before we proceed to the purpose of your visit, let’s make ourselves comfortable. Have a seat.”

  Allana was still unsettled by the appearance of the woman in front of her. She hadn’t expected this; another human, and nearly laughed at her memory of imagining the Crimson Oracle as some large, glowing ruby that somehow produced sound and spoke prophesies. She was also amazed by the realization that somehow, she would have preferred talking to a stone, rather than another human being.

  For a brief moment, Allana looked around to spot another way out of the room. Aside from the large wooden door which was blocked by the lady, the open fire place seemed to be only connection to the world outside of the mountain. She slowly took a few steps backward until her ankles bumped onto the sofa. A soft sigh released from her nose, defeated. She sat down. Little Tieve, obviously not reading the tense atmosphere in the room, immediately climbed onto her lap.

  “What is a cat? Where does it come from?” she asked.

  The hooded lady seated herself in a chair across from them and smiled at the child.

  “It’s an ancient creature. A very long time ago, people thought of them as holy animals. All over our world they protected humans from illnesses and fought away vermin, from rats to bears. They were worshiped like gods. These days, however, they only still live in the East.”

  Tieve’s eyes grew large when hearing this.

  “Have you been to the East?” she asked with a mixture of disbelieve and admiration. The crimson lips smiled again as the lady nodded.

  “But that will be all for storytelling.”

  Her face tilted towards Allana. “It hasn’t been too long ago since I was last consulted by your mother. In fact, I remember quite well that we’ve mainly been talking about you then. Judging from this bijou lady I’ve met during your little beauty sleep, I believe it’s safe to assume that my endorsements have worked out quite well. Your mother did choose a better time of the year to undertake her journey here, which makes me presume that the answers you seek must be rather urgent.”

  By raising the tone of her voice during that last sentence, she clearly indicated to expect a response from Allana, who had listened with an emotionless expression on her pale face. There was only one thought racing through her mind: her mother had consulted the Crimson Oracle to meddle in her life? The woman had always been intrusive in her personal business, but planning out her future, aided by an oracle, a psychic apparently, exceeded everything she considered her capable of. So only one response seemed logical.

  “What did you tell my mother?”

  The masked face of the lady stared emotionlessly back at her.

  “It doesn’t matter what I told your mother. It was another time and it all turned out well. Now, you came here amidst the rainiest spring season we’ve had in years, accompanied by your four year old while there’s a new one baking in the oven as we speak. It seems to me that we should be focussing on your current situation. Don’t you think?”

  Allana clenched her teeth as she was biting away a rude reply to the strange lady. Convinced that she’d be able to drag out all information that belonged to her before they would leave, she decided to first please the hooded woman.

  “This is my eldest child, Tieve. But I see you two have already gotten acquainted during my ‘beauty sleep’.” She sharply pronounced those last two words. “But she’s not the reason I’m here, that would be the new one who’s still ‘baking in the oven’.”

  Allana noticed that her tone was colder and more arrogant than she had anticipated. A fear rose that it might anger the oracle, sending her off without any answers. Allana coughed softly, straightened her back, and in a newly found amiable tone, continued her story.

  She explained about her troublesome pregnancy which caused nervous talk in the city about her child being cursed. Before she got pregnant, her husband had been condemned for killing an Elk. A pregnant one, to top it off… He hadn’t done it intentionally of course, but still, the people had been furious about it and feared wrath of the gods. So when they discovered that Allana was pregnant again, only days after her husband and half of the young, male population of their city had left to lead the rebellion in the capital, the people went berserk.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Often fainting and being terribly sick during the first months of her pregnancy didn’t help to settle their frenzy. The more they talked, the more they were convinced that she had to find a way to remove the baby.

  Allana sadly looked down at her lap while she softly stroke her round belly. “How could something so innocent as an unborn ever bring bad upon the world? My husband was the one to kill the Elk, not me or the baby. It doesn’t seem right for the gods to make the two of us suffer.”

  After she told the oracle, Allana’s large blue eyes looked watery and desperate. Her fingers wandered vacantly through Tieve’s little curls, but her glassy eyes stayed focussed on the lady in front of her.

  “You know the curse for killing one’s holy animal?” she asked.

  Allana sighed. She knew. It had spooked her thoughts ever since she had heard about her husband’s troubles. It was what everyone knew, and what everyone feared. Still, this curse was only forecasted when the animal was purposely killed. Her husband had never wanted it. He hadn’t even caused the fatal wounds. Yet, still…

  “A wandering child,” Allana mumbled, her fingers still turmoiling Tieve’s hair.

  The oracle nodded. “You want to know if it will be your child.”

  Allana shook her head. “He didn’t want it. It was an accident. This curse, it’s only true when people do it from malice, isn’t it? Hénor never wanted it.”

  The young mother inspected the Crimson Oracle in front of her, hoping she would suddenly nod, slap her hands onto her lap and say ‘Ah darling, it wasn’t done intentionally! No worries then, you all will be fine.’

  Of course she didn’t. The lady didn’t move. In fact, she barely seemed to breathe.

  “Well then, explain to me,” the oracle said, braking her figurine posture. “How exactly did he manage to accidentally kill an elk?”

  The young mother continued storytelling. She explained how her husband had been attempting to kill a monster that was rumoured to reside close to their city. It often attacked travelling merchants and did bad damage to the cobblestone roads. By the havoc the creature wreaked, it must have been an enormous beast. Sadly, no one had ever lived to tell what it looked like or where it hid, but rumours rose: a serpent. The ghastly monsters normally never crossed the glass barricade or moved away from their islands, but one time before, a specimen had found its way to the high north. And that time, long before their marriage, her husband had fought it.

  “He is very experienced in slaying vile monsters, my husband, but years ago, long before our marriage, he had already attempted to kill such a beast and failed. Perhaps it was pride, perhaps it was his sense of responsibility, but he was determined to go after this one, again.”

  Allana remained silent for a few seconds. The oracle was reading her like a book, every bit of pain, every bit of doubt. Allana noticed, but ignored it, resolute. She didn’t need her pity.

  “Anyway,” she proceeded. “He found the creature and fought it. Living to tell the story makes him unique in this, but he didn’t succeed at killing it. He got trapped in a gorge together with the beast and, according to his story, during the span of a week, he survived solely on eating berries and leaves. To escape from the canyon, he got help of an Elk which miraculously appeared and carried his weakened body along the steep ramp. He thought he was dead, mutilated too. So when they nearly exited the gorge, he was more than surprised as the serpent attacked again. He managed to fight it back into the gorge, and cut off a large piece of its tail, but failed to kill it. Weakened by many wounds, he fled on the back of the Elk, holding the large piece of monstrous tail. He hadn’t realized that the Elk was also wounded, so he kept on forcing her to keep moving while carrying him and the heavy lump of flesh. After helping him for a long way, the poor animal eventually died underneath him… Impaired by hunger and sleep deprivation, Hénor could think of nothing better than to eat her flesh to regain some of his strength.

  Tradesmen found him by the side of a cobblestone road, exhausted and covered in blood. They discovered what he had done to the Elk and because of the flesh he had consumed, her pregnancy had showed quite clearly... And so the history began which brought me here.”

  Again, the oracle silently stared at Allana.

  “You married Hénor Einarsun,” she eventually said. “He’s a renowned hero, but has caused much malice in his path to obtain this status. Nonetheless, by succeeding in his quests, he has prevented even more harm from being done by the creatures he destroyed. The gods will be grateful for this.”

  Allana nodded. She had also thought of it like this, and found some hope in the fact that the crimson lady shared her beliefs.

  “However, what’s done is done. It cannot be waved off. To further asses the aftermath, I will have to examine you and the child.”

  Tieve’s face tilted upward to stare at her mother when hearing this. Oddly enough, the oracle laughed at it – a brief, caring laugh.

  “Not you, child. The one in her belly,” the oracle kindly addressed Tieve.

  An examination… Allana had no idea what she meant by that. The idea of it made her nervous. Still, the masked face in front of her had gained some of her trust. She even discovered something comforting in it, in that mask. It spared her of pitying eyes or a judging look. Allana would cooperate with her methods. She had no choice either way. They had made it there and risked so much along the way. She had to leave fortified with knowledge.

  The crimson lady explained that she needed to examine some of her blood. This process was slow, involving chemicals and herbs. It could take a few days, they were told, but both mother and child didn’t mind spending some more time in the protection of the mountain castle. Perhaps the weather would have calmed by the time they’d start their journey home. After diagnosis on the blood, Allana’s belly had to be treated in some ritual with stones and only then, the oracle could enounce a prophecy about the unborn child.

  Allana had to wait until nightfall for the oracle to extract some of her blood. ‘Blood flows faster in the dark,’ she had said. ‘That’s why we’re so anxious at night.’

  Now the light in the large hall was blue-like again and little Tieve had fallen asleep on a makeshift bed in a corner of the room behind the stone birch. Allana was sitting next to her, gently moving her fingers along the little curls that curtained over her cushion.

  The oracle appeared in the opening of the door. A nod. It was time.

  Allana was prepared for pain. She knew pain, she had given birth before.

  “Tieve is asleep,” she said. “Will I scream?”

  The oracle turned to her, carrying a surprised look that was oddly obvious, despite the mask.

  “It won’t hurt, dear” she said, nearly smiling.

  “Oh…” Allana turned a slightly red, ashamed of her dramatic expectations.

  It didn’t hurt indeed. The oracle used a long, thin needle, attached to a glass vial with some piston atop. Allana nearly felt comfortable, sitting on the old sofa in the well-lit large hall. She was inspecting the statues and carvings again, like she had done when they first arrived nearly 24 hours before.

  “This place is truly stunning,” she mused to both herself and the oracle. The masked face of the oracle lifted upward from the needle in Allana’s arm. She just made some humming sound in approval. No extra clarification.

  “What was it made for?” Allana tried.

  “Does it matter?” the oracle replied shortly.

  Allana sharply drew in a breath, but stopped midair before any words could be released from her mouth. She was wildly curious, but also felt uncomfortably aware of the thin needle sticking in one of her veins.

  “It just seems a like such a pity for someone to create this kind of art, this beauty, only to hide it within the centre of a large grey mountain.”

  “Does all beauty have to be on display?”

  Allana looked down. “No.”

  She was nicknamed ‘most beautiful woman in the North’, but never cared for that. She knew her looks were pleasing, unique, with unmatched dark-red hair and sky-blue eyes, a skin fairer than most, a body firm and inviting, as her husband would say, but what did it ever gain her? Aside from her marriage to the most successful hero of the high North, it gave her nothing but the everlasting expectations of the commoners to always be pretty and graceful – a pretty puppet on display. She hated it.

  “That should be enough,” the oracle suddenly said, interrupting Allana’s thoughts. A little crimson droplet escaped the tiny wound where the needle exited her arm. The oracle took some clean cloth and firmly pressed it onto her arm.

  “Keep some pressure on it, so it won’t darken too much.”

  Allana nodded. “And now?”

  “Now you join your daughter and get some rest. I have work to do.”