The Oracle Has Spoken

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I
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A man stood alone, perched on a small outcropping of rocks above a ridge. He peered into vast distances of the surrounding country, scanning the uncivilized landscape out to the horizon. Looking behind to the south, he could see the twisting path he had been traveling on for the better part of the day. To the east, he could see the dense forest he had emerged from early in the morning. From his vantage point atop the narrow ridge, it seemed nothing more than a floor carpeted by a vast, green dark hue.

To the north, about a league away, the forest thinned out and the rough canyons led to cliffs jutting against a boundless ocean. Straining his eyes, he spotted an impressive structure at the precipice of these cliffs. The shimmer of the setting sun revealed an temple glittering white. It was just as she said.

He had never seen anything quite like it. Nothing could have looked more out of place in this unforgiving and untamed terrain. In some of the larger cities of Varengia, Bryn had seen elaborate and grand temples to foreign gods. None of them even looked remotely like the structure in the distance.

He only half believed the priestess whenever she told him about it. He expected it to be some sort of false pretense just to get him out this far. Yet, there it was, surrounded by wilderness and solitude, like something out of a dream. His lingering thoughts evaporated as some rocks gave way on the uneven ground beneath his feet.

His hands started to tire from clinging to the side of the ridge. He let himself down on the shelf below, frowning in disbelief. He never was able to convince himself entirely that she was lying, but he instinctively knew something was amiss. Bryn had been jilted at the end of a job before, and he certainly didn't expect it to end well after the priestess died half-way.

After the excitement of killing the snake attacker had turned to the stillness of her death, Bryn felt the last vestige of his once high morale drain away. Gone was the thrill of trailblazing into territory he had only heard strange rumors of. Lately, bad luck seemed to follow him. Despite this, in her death throes, she made every last effort to tell him how to finish the journey. At least she had the good manners to leave a parting gift of hope when she abandoned her guide.

Varengians rarely traveled this far into the hinterlands. More often then not, those who dared had some fiendish understanding with the brutish Sklabosian denizens. Their tribes were  loosely scattered throughout the entirety of the vast area. Now that he had experienced them first hand, Bryn agreed with the general consensus in Karan; the hinterlands were no fit place for any man to dwell. Karan was his usual base of operations. It was seen as the western most vestige of civilization on the continent.

It had once been a thriving frontier boomtown. Karan had once been renowned across the kingdom. It had been one of those rarest of places that pop up at the hight of an empire's might.  It was once a place where anything was possible if someone had the determination to work hard. Yet, this reputation fell farther into the past with every year. It was a no secret that Varengia's expansion into the frontier was waning.

Karan had been kind to Bryn. He had been given three jobs within the first month he had arrived. There seemed to be an endless supply of tasks for anyone with a strong back and a proper attitude. However, his fortune had been no different than that of the settlement in recent years. He was down to his last few coins when fortune led him hither.

He should have known better than to trust a pretty face, especially one as tight lipped as her. They departed from Karan almost the very instant he accepted the job. All he could get out of her that it was 'important'. At least what she was paying him was in line with that.

Bryn had hoped he would get more details on the road. People have a way of saying things they would never say in civilization when the full force of the savagery of the wilderness starts to bear down on them.

The priestess was an exception. She distant during the day and quiet as a mouse at night. Most of what he learned about her he had to surmise himself. After a bit of prodding, he found out her name was Arria, she served some sort of goddess he had never heard of, and that she came from Kyrnos.

He had only heard of Kyrnos from boastful sailors.  He vaguely recalled they were a large grouping of islands to the far west. He only asked the bare minimum why she needed to get to the west coast. His intuition told him he'd only get half-truths if he questioned anything more.

He was still in the dark about why she needed him as a guide. The best he could reckon was that it was related to her responsibilities as a priestess. As one of the few of her kind in Varengia, she was probably the closest one that could venture there.

Despite being the farthest west outpost in Varengia, Karan was one of the worst places to leave from to get to the coast. If she was farther south or west, she could have easily taken a vessel along the coast. The only reason Bryn could think of to go through the wilderness if you wanted to not attract any attention. Apparently, discretion was just as important to speed in the journey.

He was quickly back on the path he scouted from atop the ridge. He recalled what directions she gave as best he could. He followed the ridge, until it led to an impassible boulder. He saw the dead tree where he needed to climb. He continued along the side of the ridge and until he saw a path that followed far above the edge of the sea.

Soon, he was walking north with a brisk east-wind blowing from the sea. The trees faded as he got closer to the coast and rays of the low sun started to pester his eyes. Looking out across the waves, the sun sank like a dull-glowing copper ball into a lake of fire. He started his ascent up the jagged hills that led to the temple. The hill it was perched upon was the highest point anyone could see for miles amidst the tangle of rocky sea-cliffs.

Bryn grew tense from carefully treading the dangerous path. He soon grew weary, not from exertion, but from fear of loosing his step. He knew one misstep on the loose rocks and momentum alone would carry him to his death. The steep vale offered no tree limb or large rock that could break his fall. The small shrubbery that clung to the side of the hill would do little else but splinter in his hands if he grab them. He had little rest since he started on the path at dawn. Now with the sun was in the far west and the destination was in sight, he could do little to keep his mind from wandering to the prospect of a good night's rest.

With hands mangled with small cuts and short on breath, he soon made his way to the top. It had just become moment in twilight when the color of the sea merges with the color of the sky. Both turned to a soft dark velvet and the first hints of stars started to show themselves. His unkempt hair immediately started to be stirred by the unbroken gales rushing landward from the sea as he emerged onto the top of the hill.

He could now see that the temple lay on a plateau. The basin grew wider as it moved father back into the hills where the temple lay. It was only a short walk and to peer over the other side. It dropped off sharply, only hinting at a few jagged rocks on the shore before leading the to the vast ocean. North and east stretched the darkening waters, uninterrupted as far as he could see. Still and placid, they faded into dreamy hazes of distance.

Scouting down closer to the shore, he vaguely made out the jagged rocks that led up to the precipice. With the last of the fading sun's light, he spied a small path that started on a strip of sand on the shore and wound up through the cliffs to close to the temple. Not more than two men could walk on it, side to side.

His exhaustion soon caught up with him. He made his way across the plateau to what seemed to be, at first glane, the lateral side of the temple. It took on a different aspect when viewed up close. It appeared that the entire temple had not seen any human care for many years. No sign of activity, savage or civilized, stirred nearby the austere facade.

He walked around the base of the temple, looking for some way in. The structure was modest in size, for a monument, but it still took a few moments for Bryn to circumnavigate it. After a few passes, he kept on finding himself back where he started without spotting any obvious entrance. It reminded him of the forts on the outskirts Karan in Winter. The were only manned during the summer, when raids from the Sklabosian tribes were frequent, and locked up tight during the rest of the year.

The chill of the night had started to seep through the cloth and the light furs Bryn wore. His initial curiosity at the strangeness of the temple was turning to annoyance. Walking around to the Northwest side once more, he spotted two slabs of marble that might function as doors. They looked massive and ancient but not unmovable. He pried at with his dagger the crack between the slabs but it wouldn't budge. Subsequent shoves and kicks at the doors proved just as fruitless.

Worn out, he forsook his efforts. After some cursing, a quick glance to his right revealed another crack, this time in a low shelf towards the base. Bryn had seen something like this on a mausoleum before. It was used as an entrance for servants and attendants. He inserted a dagger point and pried. The loose stone was pushed aside with ease and it revealed a small opening. A man would have to duck low but there was no doubt he could fit. He was soon hunched down and working his way inside.

Inside the small tunnel, it was pitch black. After a few feet, his grasping hands felt the path going directly left at a right angle. Turning the corner, he saw the tunnel giving way to a moonlit room. Eagerly shuffling towards the exit, he emerged into the room with his head hanging low.

He barely noticed the bludgeon that fell swiftly onto the backside of his brainstem as he emerged. Bryn dropped to ground like a ragdoll as he faded into unconsciousness.

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II
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The room was dimly lit where Bryn awoke. A sharp pain emanated from the back of his head, immediately reminding him of his last waking memory. This was coupled with a dull ache that coursed through every other inch of his body. Weeks of hard travel had made him used to waking up sore but this felt odd. The pain didn't hurt more or less, it just felt different.  Almost like getting used to a new pair of boots after giving up a trusty and ragged old pair.

With a careful turn of his head, Bryn stared dully around his dismal surroundings. The only source of light was coming from a torch placed in a niche on the stone walls of the room. The muted semicircle of light that surrounded it revealed the same greyish-white stone the exterior of the temple had.

He could see he the room was rather large. The light barely crept up to the top of a few heavy stone pillars. They supported a vaulted ceiling constructed of the same stone. He surmised that he must be deep inside the temple. The extreme silence only intensified the strange calmness that permeated the room. The damp, acrid staleness of the air he breathed felt untouched by the living for ages.

He was lying on a pallet of mismatched cloth blanket, providing little insulation from the cold stone floor. A tangle of the motley cloth was bundled together underneath his sore head to provide a sort of crude, uneven pillow.

His senses were finally roused sufficiently for him to rise. Mechanically, he sat up from his makeshift bed. An odd sensation of his chest brushing against his clothes caught his attention. A scanty undertunic appeared to be his only garment. His fingers twitched convulsively at the source of the discomfort.

When his hand unexpectedly ran into a pair of breasts, a rush of adrenaline caused him to immediately stand. His extremities were still feeble and tender so he staggered up against the wall for support.

His back to the wall, he peered down at his body. His form had greatly diminished in statue. His once bony and grisled frame had become soft and lithe. In the faint light, it looked as though his skin had become as white as ivory and supple as fine leather. The sheer undergarment did little to obscure his disbelieving eyes. His shaking hands quickly confirmed what now seemed painfully obvious. He was somehow female.

Bryn's naked feed scuffed on the bare, stone floor as he paced nervously. Her thoughts didn't even know where to begin. A thousand questions rushed through her wide-awake mind. Questions of who, why, and how were meaningless.

The tension was cut suddenly from the sound of a metal latch from the unseen far side of the room. The door opened and revealed a bald man carrying a bright lantern. She instantly recognized the fashion of his loose robes and lightly bronzed skin. It bore an unmistakable resemblance to the priestess.

"Excellent. You've finally awoken," the man flatly said, he shining the lantern across the room at her. She remained in still confusion as he shuffled over to her in silence. He stopped within a few paces and examined her.

"Who..." she paused for a moment at the unfamiliarity of her own voice, "... who are you?" She tried to summon up as much defiant authority as her dazed mind would permit, "And what have you done to me?"

"I am Guldre, priest of Turanna," the man said proudly, as if hearing it would strike some respect into the listener. His eyes gave forth an odious gleam in the lantern light as they sized each other up in the passing silence. He leaned in with his lantern, staring directly into her eyes, "you are now a servant of the goddess."

"Servant? What the hell are you talking about?" she exclaimed with a desperate provocation. Her new voice still sounded strange to her own ears, dulling some of the temerity she forced on it. "I never asked for any of this!" She motioned haughtily to her new form. "Did you do this to me?" she growled.

The priest stared down at her with the stern eyes of a tyrant. "Asked? You were the goddess' to do with as soon as you entered these sacred grounds." He dug into a fold in his robe and brought out a silver amulet. "I would ask how you even knew of its existence but I see you already met Sister Arria."

He dangled an amulet for her to see. She immediately recognized it as the one valuable from the priestess' corpse he had salvaged. "No, I am more interested in how you forced her to into revealing this place to you." His expressions grew flat and accusatory, "Did you promise her riches?" he accuse with a slight drawl. "Or did you just torture it out of her before you robbed her corpse?"

She was caught off guard. She stammered, "No... Nothing like that." She paused, thinking of the most believable way she could phrase what really happened. "Arria hired me at Karan to guide her to the west coast. In the deep forest, she got bitten by a viper and died, almost instantly. She told me about this temple just before she passed on." She searched his eyes for some sort of understanding, "I only took the amulet because I knew her friends might want to have it."

Guldre's face remained as plainly stern as when he accused her. He continued in his austere tone, "Is that the best you can do? This changes nothing, even if true." He shone the lantern directly into her face, causing her to flinch from the brightness. "You say you were hired to guide her? And died while she was in your care? If so, you are just as responsible for her death as if you thrust a dagger into her heart." The priest stared intently at her, "A servant of the goddess is now lost because of you. You are now in Turanna's debt."

"Debt?" she spit out the word like it was dripping with venom. "If it wasn't for me she would have had a hell of time getting as far as she did! The forests of hinterlands are an unforgiving place." 

Her resolve grew, and she removed her back from the wall, closer to her accuser. "It was too bad she died, but I can't be held accountable for the will of fate. I paid her my respects and buried her when she died. If it wasn't for me she'd still be a rotting carcass, exposed for all the scavengers of the jungle." She extended her finger and pointed it straight at the priest. "I risked my hide to get as far as here. To hell with your goddess if she thinks that..."

She was abruptly cut off from a swift backhand that landed on her face. A stunned silence overtook her. His stern countenance had grown into angered indignation. He kept his hand raised, threatening to strike again at any moment.

"Do not dare insult Turanna!" He let the words sink in with the sting of the blow. "You are lucky to be alive in any form. Heathens are forbidden to know of this temple. The mere suggestion Arria would willingly divulge its secrets to an infidel is an insult to her memory." The priest dwelt on his rage for what seemed to be an eternity to Bryn. "You are in Turanna's debt and you will serve her," he sneered with contempt.

The sting of the prior blow now fueled her own anger. She summoned up her defiance once more as she growled, "To hell with you and your 'goddess'." She stared intently into his eyes and steeled herself in anticipation for a fight.

He returned her intensity with a look of indignant amusement. When her hand lunged up at him, he caught it with ease. He swiftly countered by delivering a forceful blow to her gut.

She fell to the stone floor on her knees, gasping for air. A sudden slap to her face was dealt with such a force that she was almost knocked over entirely. He towered over at her crouched form and waited of her to return his gaze. Her eyes were staring to tear up as the sting of the blow settled in. She looked up and gave him an look as fierce as any berserker on a battlefield might give.

He dealt her another blow, on the other side her face, with the back of his hand. She let out a yelp of pain as the blow knocked her back against the wall. He watched disinterestedly, in a cold daze of power, as she gathered herself once more. Her arm moved to stop him as yet another blow came. The force of it was too much. Blow after blow fell thereafter, moving her to sobs. Soon, any resistance that she had, just a moment ago, was washed away by a deluge of tears.

Her face still shied away in anticipation of another blow, long after the thrashing stopped. A trickle of blood from her nose fell steadily onto her tear-stained undertunic. The priest leaned down to her and she wimpered as he grabbed her chin. He forced her head so she would have to look at him. His wrathful gaze pierced through her and then moved down to her disheveled and scantily clothed body. Suddenly, she felt a weakness she had never felt before as a man.

He leaned close to her ear, "Whom do you serve?"

She knew there was only one response that would stop him from hitting her again. She meekly stammered, "the goddess."

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III
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Bryn could not remember how long she had been laying there when she heard the iron door click open again. The priest had gone back through that door immediately after their altercation, leaving her alone once more in the dank, dark prison. A sense of hopelessness had overcome her. She felt nothing. She was completely empty. She did not cry nor simper. She did not even tend to her wounds and bruises. All she could do was stare solemnly into darkness.

She had brought her back up against the hard wall, tucking her uncovered legs under her arms and against her chest. She rubbed the side of her arm to bring it warmth. For the first time, she noticed the chill of the stone floor. She stared down at her toes as Guldre shuffled up in front of her.

She jumped slightly as the tin plate noisily clanged beside her. Before she could look up, the priest had already started silently back to the door. When she heard the door's lock click shut, she cautiously contemplated the piece of bread lying beside her feet. If this was her reward for playing along, she didn't want to know what another rebellious act would incur.

Bryn could not recall how long it had been since she last ate. Judging by her hunger, it had been a while. Food was sparse on the open road and she had no idea how long she had been unconscious. She eagerly devoured the meager supper. The bread filled her belly but she quickly found herself wanting more. Despite her total exhaustion, she lay awake for many hours afterwards. The makeshift cloth bed added to the discomfort, and the dull pain of bruises and hunger constantly nagged at her thoughts.

She awoke from a dead sleep with a foot prodding her side. It was the priest.

"Stand," he commanded her. She rose obediently and Guldre continued, "The goddess has need of you. Will you serve?"

Bryn nodded gently, her eyes lowered. "Yes," she affirmed meekly. "What will you have me do?"

"The priestess you were accompanying to this holy ground was to perform a very specific task," he noted coldly. "A group of men are on a pilgrimage to here to seek the wisdom of the goddess on a very important matter. Arria was to speak for her. Now, you will take her place."

He glared down, seemingly to check for any objections. Seeing her complacency, he continued, "This will be no easy task. You will have to be versed in the ways of the goddess. You will need to look and act the part of an oracle. You will have to channel her essence through you so the pilgrims will to listen to you."

He paused, gauging her response once more. He added, "If you complete this task faithfully, you may consider your debt to Turanna paid. You will be free to go."

"If I do this for you, will you change me back to who I was before?"

He gave a terse grunt for a reply, "Yes."

A moment of silent unease fell upon them both now. Bryn was unsure of what she just agreed to. She knew she had little other choice other than to play along with whatever he had planned. She was completely at his mercy. She involuntarily shivered in the cool, underground air. Her light, torn cotton garments provided little warmth compared to Guldre's full priestly regalia.

"Now, I'm sure you're a smart girl, so don't even think about running away." He looked her straight in the eye. "You might have been able to travel far before but with your new form," he grinned wickedly, "I'd think twice before doing anything rash." Her face remained expressionless as he chuckled. He suddenly turned and headed to the door. With a wave, he beckoned her to follow.

She obeyed and cautiously followed behind him. Outside the iron door was a dimly lit corridor. Several similar iron doors lined the hallway. Guldre opened one and told her to stay put. He emerged carrying a bottle of wine and a wheel of cheese. The sight of these instantly reminded her how famished she still was.

He shook food and drink as if to tempt her. He laughed, "If you're good, you can have some of this for breakfast. I still have plenty of stale bread, if you prefer."

After climbing a few stone stairs, she found herself in the main hall of the temple. She only knew of it from the outside before. The interior of the great hall was adorned with high ceilings, tall pillars, and elaborate stone carvings. The light streaming through the high, protected windows gave the impression of early afternoon sun.

The priest led her to a room off to the side of the hall and motioned to a stone basin with water and commanded her to clean herself. She nodded submissively and started immediately as Guldre exited. The cold water was invigorating as she dashed it over her face and arms, wiping away the sweat and tears of the night before.

Drying her face, a small tarnished mirror to the side of the basin caught her eye. She peered into the mirror at her new features, hardly believing the stranger looking back at her. For one thing, she didn't look Varengian. The face was delicate and noble but still carried the dusky quality of those of Kyrnos. Her dark eyes were like two deep pools of water at midnight. They were shaded by long dusky lashes, deep with sensuous mystery.

Guldre returned, carrying a new set of clothes. He threw them at her feet and she picked up the replacement undertunic lying on the top of the heap. A new found sense of modesty caused her to pause. She did not want to undress before him, but the priest continued to stare at her expectantly.

"Well, go ahead," he said in his familiar curt and commanding voice. "You'll need more suitable clothes than that if you wish to portray yourself as Turanna's oracle." Bryn still lingered, fidgeting with the undergarment in her hands. "Come now. It isn't like this is anything new for me." He smirked lecherously and motioned to the soiled clothes she was wearing, "how do you think you got into that?"

Still, she hesitated. It wasn't until the priest raised his hand in threat to strike her did she start undoing her blood-speckled undertunic. It clung to her body as she peeled it off. She could not help herself from staring at her new naked form as she switched between garments. Judging by his wandering eyes, neither could Guldre.

She dressed as quickly as she could. The priest had also brought a skirt of mid-thigh length that was made of fine silk along with a belt to hold it in place. She slipped both of them on and with a bit of fidgeting, she felt much more at ease. A pair of light sandals completed the outfit.

As soon as she hopped into the footwear, the priest led her, by the arm, back into the main chamber. They came to the center of the temple where an altar lay. On it was placed a lifelike effigy of an eerily beautiful woman lying down in a peaceful sleep. Her slender body was carved of alabaster. It gave her skin an otherworldly appearance. She was dressed as a queen. A gold breast plate adorned her chest and every inch of her body was replete with jewelery. She also wore a skirt, the twin of the one Guldre had just given her. Oddly, the garment was showed no signs of fading or decay.

As they climbed the last last few steps, she could see the statue's face. Even though it was carved and devoid of all life, the face was unmistakably similar to the one she just saw in the mirror. The priest read the look of confused bewilderment on her face as if he was expecting nothing less. He silently mocked her with a grin.

"Who is that?" she stammered. "Why did you change me to look like her?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he chided, "if you are going to be her oracle, you best look like her. It has been a custom of my order for many years to inspire faith in the pilgrims who visit us. Arria was to take on her likeness when she arrived." He turned his gaze from the statue to Bryn, "I'm getting quite good at it. Don't you think?"

Bryn shrugged, "Let's hope you are just as good at remembering my old face when you turn me back." She walked closer to the effigy and peered over the queen. She questioned, her gaze intent on the altar, "Despite her finery, she looks like any other noblewoman from Kyrnos. Why is she worthy of worship?"

Guldre squinted at her, gauging her intent, "Do you know nothing of our history?" He sighed and continued, "Uncountable years ago, she was the first ruler of Kyrnos. She united the many islands of the nation into one. Yet, in her prime, she died mysteriously." He moved to the opposite side of the altar and looked over at her. "Our order maintains that while the mortal in her could die, the goddess in her could never perish. We built this temple on a far away land as both her tomb and as a monument to her immortality. Belief in her has held Kyrnos together ever since."

"That's quite the role to live up to."

"Indeed," he agreed menacingly. "And you better play it well. The pilgrims will be here in a few short days."

-----
IV
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Shafts of bright light from the midday sun poured through the high windows of the great hall. The elaborate wall carvings cast obtuse shadows as the light echoed through the main chamber. A row of the grandiose pillars and sweeping arches led up to the dais in the center. There Bryn lay motionless, playing the part of a goddess in eternal sleep. To the undiscerning eye, the temple today would seem the same as when the ancient queen was first laid to rest.

She had been listening intently to the empty chamber for quite some time. Nothing had disturbed the vast silence since the priest had left. She had been told not to move an inch from this spot, and she wasn't about to disobey him now. She had been following his every command for the last few days in preparation for the pilgrims, and it seemed foolish to stop now. Just a few quick words and she will have fulfilled her end of the bargain.

The statue of Turanna had been removed to allow her to lie upon the dias. She now wore the garments the statue had been wearing to complete her appearance. Save for the deliberate, slow cadence of her breath and the color in her cheeks and lips, she was an exact replica of the altar effigy.

She'd never been so close to such wealth in her life. The golden chest plate alone was worth a fortune any merchant would covet, not to mention the plentiful bracelets, necklaces, earrings and other jewelry that weighed down her limbs. She doubted anyone would doubt her divinity now, even if she still talked like a 'backwards woodsman' Guldre said she was.

Learning the accent had been the hardest part of training with the priest. She had been struck by the priest many times before she 'appreciated' the intricacies of the Kyrnosian tongue. Bryn had know many men born in other lands in Karan.  They had lived in Varengia for many years, and they still had the accent of their homeland. It was a daunting task to try and perfect another accent in a few days yet Guldre insisted on it. If the own matron-goddess of Kyrnos did not speak with the accent of her own people, it would throw anything she said into doubt.

While training with Guldre, she had started to pick up hints that this was no ordinary pilgrimage to Turanna. Apparently, a rebellion had broken out in the islands. The only thing the opposing sides would agree upon was to consult Turanna's wisdom. It was either this or all out war. Bryn's performance needed to make an impression on the pilgrims if she was to get out this alive.

Out of the silence, something caught her attention. She could have sworn she heard a faint scuffling on the temple's stone floors. Her heart started to beat faster. The stillness of the great hall grew oppressive. It took everything in her not to take a look at what might be lurking behind those grand pillars. All it would take is a slight turn of her head and a quick peak. But if it was Guldre... she better not risk it.

There it was again. She could have sworn she heard a small stone scuffle across the ground. Just as the urge to look grew unbearable, she heard a nearby and deliberate clearing of a throat. Someone was trying to get her attention. This was too much. She opened her eyes. It was a man standing only a few feet from the dais. It was not the priest.

Suppressing her surprise, she rose gracefully and started to play the part she had trained for. "I am the goddess Turanna, eternal queen and mother of all of Kyrnos," she stated with a distant, sepulchral resonance. She deliberately tried to emulate the regal grandeur that was expect of Turanna, just as the priest made her practice. "What was once mortal in me died but the eternal in me could never die. My immortal wisdom has returned to bring you an important message."

The stranger's form was unabashedly Kyrnosian. His dark, long mane of fine black hair framed a powerful face. He was dressed as a warrior in leather armor with a long and dangerous looking sword hanging haphazardly at his side. His pantherish limbs were exposed and devoid of armor. They instinctively suggested a warrior of a powerful build, honed through countless hours of toil and training.

"Oh? Is that so?" he said in a boast, his arms crossed arrogantly crossed his chest. He smirked and leaned toward the altar. "Please tell me this important message, O Goddess!" he mocked indignantly.

She suppressed astonishment at the brazen stranger and, undaunted, committed herself once more to theatrics. "All of Kyrnos is to stop this needless rebellion immediately," she commanded in her faux-Kyrnosian accent. "The true king is by birth and divine law is Gelon. Only he continues my legacy and will. Let this be known throughout all of the islands of our homeland. Go now and spread my decree!"

The stranger stood unmoved and stared at her gilded form with a stern, unbreakable gaze. Something was wrong. The priest had told her the pilgrims would leave as soon as she commanded them. She began to repeat herself with the summoned power of a deity, "Go now and..."

She was interrupted before she could finish her hollow threat. The man snatched her outstretched wrist with a speed of a jungle predator.. He pulled her down from the raised platform with a single, forceful tug. She let out a piteous, girlish yelp of surprise as she felt his vice-like grip latch onto her arm.

"Ha! Some goddess!" his voice oozed with the triumphant contempt of exposing an imposter. Her ivory-white of her skin contrasted with the hard bronzed hand held that her in place. She squirmed to get free under his powerful grasp but it was all but futile. "You might fool some superstitious, old council members with that ruse but not me!"

His eyes gleamed with righteousness as he scorned her, "What is wrong with you? Do you not any respect for the ancients?" The intense glare he gave her filled her with fear. He snuffed out any resistance by grabbing both her shoulders and making her face him.

She could sense his cold fury with one look up into his smoldering, grey eyes. She knew he would not tolerate anything but a direct answer. He could sense her fear and she knew it. Her only hope was to come clean with him.

"Oh please, don't hurt me!" she pleaded. "I am a captive here. I didn't want to do this." She looked back into his unmoving gaze and saw no mercy. "It was the priest, Guldre. He made me. He said he'd free me if I said that." The urgency in her voice was becoming pitiful, "I didn't want to. You have to believe me!"

He relaxed his grip and cursed, "Guldre... the dog. I knew he could not be trusted." He turned to her once more, his voice less cruel but just as forceful, "Tell me, where is he now?"

"The last I saw of him," she paused gasping for breath, "he was leaving out the front entrance to come for the new arrivals." He a daunting expression grace his countenance that unmistakably told he wanted more information. "He cannot have been gone more than a half an hour. He left me here to speak to the guests once they arrived."

He abruptly let go of her and made for the exit. She cried out in desperation to stop him, "Please don't tell him we've met! That's all I know. If he knows that I spoken to you I'm not sure what he'll do to me!"

He turned back to Bryn and looked her over once again. His furrowed brow gave way to a coy grin, "Don't worry your pretty little head. You've been most helpful." He paused but for an instant and walked up beside her.

He took her shoulder and guided her beside the dais. He sat down on the altar and tapped the empty spot next to him before addressing her once more. "You're going to lie here just like you were before I so rudely awakened you," he schemed. Bryn returned his gaze to let him know she was listening. "When the envoys come into this hall, you are going to rise up and give your little performance just like you did for me." She nodded eagerly. "But instead of that whole part about Gelon being king, you are going to tell them the rebellion is justified and the victor will be Aulen." He grinned from ear to ear, "you think you can handle that, gorgeous?"

"But I can't!" she protested "The priest will..."

A simple gesture of his hand was the only thing needed to stop her whining.

"Listen, Arria... Your name is Arria right?" He paused and waited for her to nod in assent. "Don't you worry about that old letch of a priest. I can handle him," he stated as confidently as if it was already done. "I never deal with people I can't handle," he added with a note of severity.

His voice returned to forceful tone, his eyes never leaving hers, "Now are you going to do as I say?"

Bryn froze with indecision. All she wanted was something that could get her out of this mess.

The stranger did not abide the silence for very long. "I don't have much time," he sighed lackadaisically. Bryn's eyes wandered down to his belt as he tapped the hilt of his sword instinctively. He lowered his voice menacingly, "I might have to do something I don't want to do if you don't play along."

She gave him a long cold stare. She could tell there was only one way this was ending well. She steeled herself, "Alright. I will do as you ask."

"Right answer, girl." He smiled and stood up. She made her way back to her altar. As they crossed paths, he gave her a reassuring, vigorous pat on her rear.

"Now you stay right there," he leaned over her as she lay back down. "They should be here in any moment now. Remember- Aulen shall be victorious." She nodded which seemed to satisfy him. "If you can act as well as you did for me, a room full of fools won't be able to tell you are just an ordinary girl."

"I'll try," Bryn said meekly, crossing her arms and closing her eyes to bring her to the position the statue held.

"Excellent", he grinned. "I'll be watching. Be a good little goddess now."

Bryn drifted into her 'eternal slumber' once more. Soon, the hall was dead silent. Countless thoughts rushed into her mind about what just transpired and what she still needed to do. The visit from the stranger had complicated things. In what felt like an eternity, she heard a rumbling coming from the front of the temple. The great marble doors were being pushed open.

In came what sounded like a platoon of men. Their boots and sandals echoed around the cavernous stone hall. The loose chattering of the visitors grew increasingly hushed as the procession made its way to her. The throng of men funneled in just before the throne-dais where she lay. The commotion halted to a whisper and a single man approached the sleeping queen.

"O Goddess, we come to you in time of need," Guldre proclaimed, breaking the tense hush in the temple. This was her cue to awaken from her 'aeons long slumber'. She gracefully rose from her altar, her countenance that of serene regality. The priest continued, "A great unrest has fallen upon your realm of Kyrnos. We come to learn from your infinite wisdom. You must guide us to the righteous path."

The oracle scanned the worshippers with a silent nobility. They were gathered into two distinct parties, ostensibly representing either faction in the conflict. At the forefront of each was a seasoned noble, dressed in silk and ornamental battle gear. Behind them was a party of ten or so weaponless warriors, here to witness the decree.

"It pains me to see Kyrnos engulfed in a war. A war where our people are not fighting a common enemy but their fellow countrymen," she recited her lines with a deep rich musical voice tinged by the accent of the islands. Her performance was fueled by awe-stricken audience. "All of Kyrnos is to stop this needless rebellion immediately. Aulen is justified in his claim and will be victorious. Only he continues the legacy and will of the eternal queen of all Kyrnos. Let this be known throughout the islands. Go now and spread my decree!"

A great hushed commotion arose among the pilgrims. Guldre's face drained into a pale shock. One of the lords turned to the priest and whispered a hurried message into his ear. The other lord turned to his men, silencing their congratulations.

"The oracle has spoken!" Guldre proclaimed, trying to regain some composure. He shoved the worried lord away and hurried to end the commotion. All of the men dutifully started for the doors at once. The muttering of the jostling crowd grew louder and louder as they reach closer to the exit.

Bryn still stood on the raised platform as the last of the pilgrims dragged the massive marble doors shut. She did not loose her look of conjured regality even though the great stone hall was now empty. An odd sense of pride filled her. She had just convinced an entire nation her will was that of their most ancient and sacred ruler.

Then she saw the priest. He was storming across the hall, coming straight for the dias.

"You stupid bitch!" His rage echoed across the stone. His words struck fear into her but she stood resolute as he climbed the stairs. He struck her face with a blow harder than any blow he had given her before.

"Do you realize what you have just done!" His red face screamed down at her. Bryn hunched over her own cowering form as she endured his abuse.

"How many times did we practice that? How many times did I stress its importance?" He towered over her, rage coursing through him. "I should have known you were too stupid to even mimic a few lines back."

He struck her again.

"Please! Have mercy!" she managed to whimper out as she struggled to scamper away. He latched onto her ankle and pulled her across the stone floor to him.

His immense furor died down to a cold fury. "A bitch such as you will have none," he menaced. His large hands latched around her trachea, and he squeezed with all of his might.

"I knew I was going to enjoy this from the first time I set eyes upon you. Did you honestly think a foreigner was going to leave this sacred place alive?"

She struggled in vain to remove her attacker's murderous hands with flailing limbs. Soon her attempts grew weaker and she felt her life slipping away.

She opened her eyes just in time to see cold steel jutting through the front of the priest's torso. The blade slipped out, nlood spurting from the open wound onto the cold stone beneath. His white robes were instantly stained in pools of crimson.

Bryn gasped for air, her back to the dais as the corpse of the priest slunk to the floor in a thud. She saw the priest's slayer standing proudly over the gory travesty. It was the stranger.

A delicious languor stole over her frightened body as he scooped her up into his arms. He strode triumphantly to the exit, cradling her limp body. She looked up at her rescuer in a haze of relief.

"You came back for me?" she meekly questioned in a daze.

"I never left," he chuckled. "That was quite the little performance you gave." He smiled warmly down at her, "I should be able to finish this rebellion quickly with the endorsement of a goddess."

"You... You are Aulen?"

"Ha! Don't act so surprised, Arria. It is unbecoming for an oracle to be ignorant of those she grants favor to."

She smiled weakly, "I hate to shatter any illusions, but I am no oracle."

"Nonsense," he chided. "You just foretold the fate of an entire kingdom. I can think of many uses for a someone with your talents at the court of the future king of Kyrnos." Aulen added suggestively, "You don't come across a goddess every day."

He gave her a long appraising stare that brought color to her face and made her bite her small red lip with anticipation. She knew then she had made the right choice.