by Charis
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica and all associated characters belong to people who are not me. I'm just borrowing.
Notes: Ilana's fault, for her Roslin Pythia comment. I've no idea how many of the Earth myths carry over, but I couldn't help myself. This is mostly for annoying plotbunnies that won't go away - er, fun.
She remembers a story of a girl blessed and cursed by the gods, to foresee and never be believed; remembers feeling sympathy for a girl cursed only because she would not lie with a god - or was the curse for doubt? The sympathy is more profound now, though it is only she who doubts herself, cannot believe what comes in the dreams. She does not know what others would say, and fear keeps her from asking.
Cassandra. Delphi. Python. Names flicker through her mind. The irony of Lee Adama's callsign is not lost on her.
The Cylon knew. His eyes on hers as he flew out the airlock, acknowledging - and challenging. His words linger; his voice wraps serpentlike around her throat, pouring doubt into her ear. She thinks, suddenly, of snakes about her, of dry rustling voices she cannot quite understand, thinks too of what greater horizons can be seen when one stands on the edge of death.
Thinks, perhaps I have gone mad ...
Drugs. Side effects. Hallucinations. Stress, post-traumatic stress disorder. Nightmares. A myriad of clinical explanations, rational possibilities.
But ultimately, she thinks of the girl no-one believed, and of the doom she foresaw.
- finis -