As much as it was assured that the majesty's fate was that of blossoming flowers and glowing stars, confronting the fortune teller once in a lifetime was the royals' ritual.
Each member of the family had to make their destiny aware to themselves. It was technically an unwritten rule.
And that's what leads us to King Sedek's whereabouts ...
The carriage rattled and shook while he sat back with his arm around his most precious possession, his beloved eight year daughter, ... Lillemor.
A gift from his long gone wife right before she left him to that better place above. Though he wasn't sure if it was really the better place?
The sounds of wheels clattering on gravel suddenly ceased, marking their arrival.
"Are we there, Papa?", the girl looked up at her father, who immediately beamed.
"Yes, my precious", he patted her head , kissing her forehead.
There were finally going to get their future foretold by the oracle.
The girl marvelled at the deep green forest, a bizarre surrounding, and the cottage in front of them, their destination.
A beautiful garden of flowers and plants framed the wooden walls, decorating it with numerous colors.
The princess couldn't come up with any idea why someone would choose such a lonely location for a home, but she admired their courage for she hated being alone.
"This is where the oracle lives", the father explained once the guard opened the door of the carriage and helped them out.
"Wait here", the king said to the guard and their horseman before taking her daughter's hand and leading them to the entrance of the house.
"Is she nice?", Lillemor had been asking the same questions all way. "Does she like kids?"
Her father laughed, "I'm sure she does, she's a lovely woman after all."
The King had only met the oracle once, at his wife's funeral. There wasn't much talk between the two but he lived in the way she seemed to worship the ground he put his feet on.
"Really? Lovelier than mama?"
The question made the King's laugh diminish in proportion.
He never liked bringing up the subject of his deceased wife as much as he found pleasure in narrating the times he spent with the woman to their lovely daughter.
Eight years had elapsed ... yet here he was, unhealed from the trauma of being a widower.
"I can say almost, but not really", that's all he said after knocking thrice on the door.
and there followed a silence.
"Come on in.", a woman's voice was heard after a moment.
With that, the King held his daughter's hand and sauntered forward. But as soon as they stepped past the golden beige curtain, the woman let out a sudden gasp.
"Your majesty", the oracle's voice was low, her figure sat a few steps away on a beautiful carpeted floor with a crystal globe in front of her.
But it wasn't the crystal that glowed ... but her eyes.
And the girl envied the sight, with a reason unbeknownst to herself.
"Yekaterina", the man said the woman's name proudly.
"One —", King Sedek's sense of hearing couldn't make out the rest of the oracle's statement.
"Yes?", he turned his head a bit, tilting his right ear towards the calm collected lady on the floor.
"One at a time", the King and his princess finally heard the words.
But that didn't make him let go of the girl's hand.
"She's my daughter-"
"Exactly", Yekaterina stared at the said daughter. "That's one good reason not to walk into my sanctuary in a pair or more."
Lillemor seemed a bit taken back by the oracle's request, but she let her father go, forthwith.
"It's too overwhelming for my senses ... Each of you can be enlightened of their fate at their own time.", the woman added to the explanation, though that was honestly just the wisest way she could think of on how to shoo a child from adult conversation.
She wasn't sure if her instincts were giving her the right indications or what, but ... there was something about the girl that came out and connected with her spiritual wires.
Something that had never happened with anyone before except ...
.... her own kind.
Nothing could scream 'danger' more than that and the clear envision of the near future that came after the untitled awakening did fail to surpass her.
It was like a strike of the right cord.
Understanding where it came from and accepting the sad fate of the man who called himself her father.
Will it soothe him?, She wondered. But of course, she only knew the king as a compassionate forgiving man so nothing worried her of his reaction.
She had to unveil the truth to him either way. She figured, he deserved to know.
After all, she was the oracle. It was her responsibility to let people know of their destinies, and if bad, help them find a means to rewrite their life stories in a way that was less arrogant and more personally fulfilling.
Her fear though, was that there could be nothing to save the poor majesty.
The girl looked up at her father and with a nod, he allowed her out.
The girl gave the woman one last glance before disappearing behind the curtains where they came from.
The oracle stared ahead ...
"Yekaterina", the King was the one who called her out of her stupor.
Her eyes moved back to the crowned man with skin dark as the forest land she walked on, same as his daughter.
But the two looked different.
His Majesty carried around black stiff curls under his crown, the eight year old girl had waves of white.
Yes, white.
Like the snow, the oracle thought.
Except that the girl's ash blonde hair seemed to darken or lighten from different angles like some kind of magical jewelry, the oracle couldn't help but wonder what triggered the switch of shades of color. Maybe phases of the moon, who knew.
The girl was a walking gem.
"Place your hand on the ball", she made a kind order, and King Sedek obliged at once.
Then the oracle's eyes shut closed for the shortest time possible the King doubted if his fate was that fast to read.
Oh so it was.
The woman had it interpretated to her the moment he set foot in with his daughter. She just needed a confirmation from karma, as stubborn as she was.
"Yekaterina", the King called again, to no avail.
"Silence ... ", the oracle didn't open her eyes yet.
There was a distant sound of Crows outside, and a soft wind moved them through.
The King could swear that something peculiar was going on, but the oracle just breathed slowly before letting her eyelids flip up.
"She will take precedence over you.", the words left her mouth, unapologetic because the future behind them was very much promising.
The King's skin shivered at the woman's muttering, her words sharp and eye piercing as her bright crimson hair, but he immediately prayed they were just lies as white as her skin.
Even though he guessed what that meant, he still gave doubt a chance to interfere.
"What is that supposed to mean, Yekaterina?"
The woman moved her hand above the round crystal again, as if forming an invisible halo over it.
"She'll conquer you and rule above you", the woman explained, holding nothing back. "I felt her power, your majesty. The moment she walked through the curtains of my dwellings ... I felt her power ... and it was beyond nothing else."
The King stared at the woman, wishing she'd stop with the nonsense clarification but still wanting to hear the end of the prediction.
The oracle watched as the man's natural dim eyes turned fifty shades darker from their usual black.
So murky it reminded her of Grimoire the black cat, her own daughter's lovely pet.
Did she misjudge the King for an agreeable man?
Why had his demeanor unanticipatedly clouded over? And why was her inner voice dissenting over her unwise decision of telling King Sedek the truth?
"Is this the same daughter of mine you speak of?", the man's lips trembled in distraught.
"Yes it is, your majesty", she ignored her conceptions. What had been said had been said, it cannot be unsaid.
"That- That can't be true", he stummered, a mixture of confusion, shock, and fear crowded his aging face. "My daughter loves me, I am the center of her world, she can't-"
"It seems, your majesty ...", if taking a sip made him this weak, she decided that she might as well serve him the whole glass of what fortune had in store for him, as a forththought. "The girl you call your daughter owns a sort of ... ... magic of its own kind.
I've never seen anything like it and-"
"How can we get rid of it?", his face hardened.
The woman's heart stiffened.
Was the King on his right mind?
Did he want to end his daughter?
The oracle couldn't believe she had trusted the man not to give such a negative reaction. In fact, she had hoped he would be proud that his daughter could succeed him ... even if it meant pouring her father's blood over the throne.
"What?", her eyebrows rose.
"How can we get rid of it?!", fierceness reeked off his royal garb.
The aura around him was one of furor and when the oracle's inner spirit smelled it, it despaired her because it wasn't that he reeked of but rather ... dismay, malice, avarice, and the worst of sins, pride.
"Th-That's not a matter to get rid of, Sire", she had to calm him down, so he wouldn't try to interfere with the path of destiny, for that was the worst thing that could befall Salem. "Finding magic in a child is a gift like no other, it ought to be treasured or else-"
"How can I get rid of it?!!", the King roared in fury, pushing the crystal globe over its stool till the beautiful enormous gem fell over.
The oracle stood aback in fear.
She didn't expect this to happen.
This was too far.
The man was possessed by his deviled mind and was being guided by his unforgiving soul. It was an encounter the oracle swore she wouldn't have foreseen in a million years because of how she dearly respected him.
"Your majesty, she's just a child-"
"A child?! A child who is going to take my life and replace my throne out of greedy!"
"Magic isn't always a bad thing, Sire.
This could be the gods' plan for our Kingdom, to save us from the wicked powers. This could be a good sign-"
"Bollocks."
"It is true. Look at it from the good side, your majesty. With Lillemor's powers we can win the wars and take over the lands of our foes to be our own.
Lillemor could be the chosen one for the sake of fate, even if your life ends up at stake. Think about your people for they all can be saved."
With that, the King replenished, ruining things in the room in fury, making the oracle shriek as a table toppled over, spilling liquids and breaking ornaments.
"My desire is to rule my Kingdom to victory!", he gritted his teeth, heading for the door. "Not to die without that honour. I am the conqueror of Salem, and I will be the greatest king Salem has ever had. I will fulfill that destiny, magic or not. And most importantly, I will not let a stupid little girl take my life!"
With that, the King stormed out of the room.
The girl was playing by the carriage when her father came back.
"Papa!", she called excitedly when she saw the man trot out of the building. But her excitement died down when she saw the furrowed brows and fury on her father's face.
"Papa?"
Straight faced, the man trumped his feet into the carriage.
"Papa??", confused.
Negligently, he ordered the horseman to leave.
"Papa?", the girl called in worry but the crowned man was too enraged to give heed or attend to her wails.
"What?", the horseman was nonplussed, same with the guard.
"Go", the king ordered stiffly, lips tight.
"What about the girl? Her highnes-"
"I said Go!", the king voiced out maniacly, making the horseman comply without further ado.
"Papa!", the girl's voice was heard in the background. "You're leaving me?"
Without any clarification, they all left ...
Leaving the girl alone.
"Papa? Papa! -Papa, No!", she cried out loud, a mixture of pain, fear, and ache. "Papa don't leave me here!"
Tears were spilled down her cheeks as she wailed. Helpless and broken.
She kept calling for her father. When the carriage completely disappeared amidst the trees, Lillemor stomped her feet and dropped herself to the ground in sobs.
She had no idea why her father, the one and only person she trusted, the human she loved the most, left her there.
And she had never seen the man look so fumed before. It left her scared and perturbed at the same time.
She had no idea what to do. Heck, she had no idea where she was. More heck, she was just an eight year old!
How could he leave her here alone?
She thought he said he loved her more than anything!
The girl kept on crying, having no idea what to do.
After some time, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"It's okay, your highness. He'll come back for you."
Lillemor heard the oracle's voice whisper behind her.
--------------------------------------------------
The sun had began to set ...
Lillemor was seated inside the woman's home, sipping a cup of tea which didn't taste like the one she usually had at the palace.
She missed her father already.
"Don't look so down, your highness. You did nothing wrong."
The Princess' eyes moved from the floor to the woman situated a few steps away, knitting peacefully.
How could she be so at peace?, Lillemor wondered. Was she the reason behind her father's outrage? Did the oracle know something that the girl didn't know?
"He looked so mad.", the girl calmly muttered, as if to herself.
"I know. I saw him when he stormed out. But don't worry, it'd be fine", the oracle gave her a nice smile which felt like an invisible pat on the princess' back, though that really didn't make her feel any better.
"Do you also know what made him be that way?"
The oracle's smile faltered, revealing its fakeness.
Lillemor felt it when an adult tried to fool her and she hated it with a burning passion.
"No", the woman cleared her throat, feeling intimidated by the girl's burning gaze at her.
"... ... You do. Tell me.", their eyes locked.
"I do not know a thing, your highness-", the woman had been struggling to keep herself composed, feeling intimidated by the girl's mysterious divine power that seemed unfathomable even by her great sense of intelligence.
"I know you do. And as the daughter of the ruler of this Kingdom, I command you to tell me in the name of the throne."
The oracle shivered but acted unmoved. That was the wisest sentence she had heard an eight year old say.
Maybe the crystal globe was right about this one, ... she was different.
She was who fate had brought to us.
A while of silence flied by, with an undecided oracle and an impish future-queen.
"Your father wasn't very pleased with the fortune telling, that was what made him in a fury"
"Why ... Is something bad going to happen to him?"
"He-"
"And does him leaving me here change anything that you foretold about him?"
"Destiny is inevitable, your highness.
Your father will end by the sword, ... by your hands. Whether he leaves you here or not, he cannot escape his fate", the oracle spoke all of this standing, eyes downcast. "But you, Lillemor ...
... something about you speaks to me."
Lillemor watched as the woman confessed, taking in every word.
"You're the ultimate conqueror of Salem ... and I sensed something inside you the moment your feet touched the thresholds of my home ... A power like no other."
Lillemor got on her feet.
"You're wrong. I'm just a girl who was lucky to be born a princess.", she grimaced.
"It was planned by the gods, your highness. Believe my word for it, and you'll see."
"I choose not to. I will not kill my father for the sake of power and glory."
"Whether you believe it or not, it's your cup to drink at the end of the day. What was planned to happen must happen."
"I need to go home.", all this fortune telling was making her uneasy.
"One day, you'll understand.
And you will remember every single word I say to you-"
"I won't kill my father! Period."
"You're not a being of this world, Lillemor. You are your mother's daughter, you are more than what you think you are. You are more powerful than all the other royal offsprings that were ever born. A true blue blood."
"... Why are you telling me this?", she stared.
"Because I will not be there to guide you through the good and help you escape the bad. You're not just a mere princess, you're a queen who will leave a prominent mark in the history of Salem."
As the oracle spoke, a clattering of hooves followed a trail into the woods, from the palace. The woman sensed the sound of horses and foresaw the warriors riding behind them.
The oracle's heart sank in woe at the apprehension she had of the upcoming events, predicting her dreadful fate.
It wasn't her time, she was painfully aware of that. And a thousand times aware that she was being condemned while she sat righteous over the eyes of the gods.
Maybe it was time she believed the old Salem saying ... that a witch shall never live.
Maybe that applied to her too, even if she used her magic for the good. To mend and to heal, yet in the end, humans would always be humans.
She had no know idea that the northern King owned such a bitter heart. She thought she sensed his inner turpitude wrong when he put his feet on her flooring.
She wished she had last wise words for the poor girl but she had too many things to say she couldn't choose what was most important.
The oracle stood up, following the princess up close.
"You are to be queen, so don't ever surpress your power", she let her mouth guide her. What could come out was going to be let out. "Or you'll miss your mark from the gods.
Upon generations, our kind were brutally murdered. A merciless macabre all out of ignorance by a horde of brutes who were badly misinformed about the purposes of magic.
But in the end we still stand, even as martyrs of each other.
Humans are such weird creatures, Lillemor. They never seize to confuse me.
One day they come crying to you begging you to heal their misfortunes but right after you do so, they throw stones at you.
Magic isn't always a bad thing.
Magic was what had been passed by in my blood line. Daughter after daughter ...", she put a hand on the girl's shoulder, squeezing it.
"What about the sons?"
The woman didn't expect the little girl to notice that specific aspect.
Maybe she was giving her too much information but again, if this was the last person she was going to talk to in her life then she didn't care about overdosing.
"Males are naturally incapable of carrying this extreme power, for a beginning reason.
But women? ... Women are born to be magical.
I'm looking at you, Lillemor."
"You talk as if you're leaving ... ", the girl's eyes stung, scared.
The oracle just smiled fondly.
"When the time is right, I hope, like the amazing daughter you are, you take your fate in both hands and receive it, like a blessing.
I hope you don't grow up into a blood sucking monster like all the throne-takers.
I hope you grow up to free people of their chains and set your own kind free.
I hope you let out the soldier inside of you to march on, and head down till the work is done. "
The clattering of hooves stopped in front of the house and at the sudden sound, the girl turned to eye the window.
Her eyes gazed at the armored men as they got off their saddles.
But before she could say a word, the oracle was headed for the door.
"What is happening?", the girl asked, confused.
"I think his Majesty sent some friends to get you.", the woman pulled the door open.
Without a chance of a word, a shining sword was plunged through the woman's gut.
She gasped. The eight year old screamed.
Other warriors grabbed for the girl, taking her away.
As much as Lillemor wanted to question the sudden turn of events of the unlucky day, she dreaded remembering them.
She couldn't relive that moment for a billion shekels of gold.
She concluded the deep red haired woman was right, the warriors did come from the castle, for they had their kingdom emblem on their armor and flags .
What she couldn't understand was why her father ordered them to kill the poor woman.
Was this the blood sucking monstrosity the oracle spoke of?
Had her father always been so heartless or was it all out of the same anger?
Was she going to grow up like him?
Was he the same kind sweet gentle man she had always known or was their something going on that she wasn't enlightened about?
One of the masked soldiers placed her on top of a horse, and with one on the front and others on their tail, they rode her back to the last place she now wanted to be, the palace. And to face the now last person she wanted to face, her father.
His previous act of leaving her behind torn her trust in him.
Wasn't a father supposed to be proud of his daughter's good destiny?
Was she really born to kill her own father?
The questions came out in form of tears streaming down her cheeks.
A simple trip to the oracle had morphed into a whole different huge life threatening fiasco in the most abrupt way possible.
The soldiers guided her towards the great entrance of palace of the northern kingdom of Salem, and she couldn't remember feeling such remorse while walking on the carpet towards the old man on the throne.
She wiped her face and tried to hold back her fear.
Was he still feeling angered?
Was he going to order her murdered too?
Was the person she loved so dearly going to be the end of her?
"Papa ...", That's all she could breathe, finally standing in front of the man's eyes.
She had no idea what to say.
She thought of making an apology but for what? Being born with such a tradegic destiny of killing her own father?
Though all she knew was that she couldn't even hold a sword on how heavy it felt in her hands, nevertheless pushing it through someone else's skin. No.
Or for being a girl? For she was told her father always wished for son instead when the girl was not on earshot.
"Take her to her room", that was all the crowned man could let out.
One sentence that torn the little girl's insides in a way nothing could.
Witch or not, the oracle was bound to be right.
Was her father scared of her now?
He always excused her with 'Retreat to your room' but now it was 'Take her to her room'.
Was he scared of what she'll do on her own?
Was he scared that she might somehow sneak upon his neck and strangle him dead?
Did the man believe in the oracle's words?
Obliging to her father's orders, two guards escorted her all the way to the doors of her bedroom.
In silence, they opened the doors for her, and once she walked in, they closed them behind her.
She worried, if her father's treatment towards her would ever be the same.
Scared and abashed, she caught eyes of the girl on the mirror.
Ignoring the obvious rue, she turned a blind eye over the scary reflection of her very own bewildered self.
The girl dived underneath the heavy sheets of her bed afterward, hugging her pillows close.
What was going to happen next?, she
couldn't stop thinking.
And then the flashback she had been struggling to avoid hit her in a fierce wave.
... The sight of the woman, the oracle, being striked down with a sword ...
The sound of her last gasp of air and Lillemor's scream in the background.
The warrior's stout expression ...
The woman's body tumbling to the floor, blood spilling over from her abdomen ....
An innocent life.
Lost.
What for?
Nothing.
Was the woman really faultless as Lillemor believed so or was she also hiding something?
The most frightening part was that Lillemor took in every word the oracle said to her.
She let them all in and believed them, almost naturally.
She had no idea why, but if the oracle was chosen and sent by the gods, then she presumed the woman to speak of nothing but the truth.
After all, she was the oracle.