The day had begun, cold and gray, an average morning in the Shades. She awoke with the chill, dressed, knowing. She moved in her slow fashion down stairs not quite awake but aware.
Her brother had returned from the night shift with little to say. "Hungry", he grunted as she prepared his dinner. He would eat then read yesterday's paper while smoking. She loathed his choice of tobacco and his way of rolling it. She put up with his smoking only so she would not have to hear his comments about her cooking. If she complained, he complained. It was an easy compromise for both. Afterwards, he'd wash up and go to bed. She'd then have to be the mouse, tiptoeing from room to room, cleaning and tidying up before she would leave for the day.
She walked in that chill air, fog slowly slipping around corners, every morning that she could remember. The anxiety was building in her. She felt watched, eyes out every window and faces in every doorway. She hated this feeling. She wished for it to go away, not ever to return. It never did.
Being an Oracle only bothered her when she actually had to be the Oracle.
It had been easy for her mother. Her mother had never complained, whined or worried. Mother always did the right thing, said the right thing. Mother had died KNOWING. She had wondered whether she would die that way.
She was Oracle to the Commander of the Watch. It was a new position, along with un-dead, trolls, dwarves and such in the Watch. Still, she felt weird. "Honest work", her brother grunted when she told him. He always grunted and never more than a few syllables. "He must be part troll", she mumbled to herself.
Almost to the Watch house, the feeling trebled. "No,no,no". She would not give in yet. Not until she saw his face, looked into his eyes, could she give in to the "feeling" as the Commander put it.
The Commander was down to earth, one of the people. But not to earthy. Common sense ruled this Commander. "Everything in it's place and place for everything" was his motto. Although sometimes their place was in the dungeon or the pillory and once and only once, the pike.
Rounding the corner, she saw her destination, The Watch House. It used to be a family home, just newly converted for the Night Watch. Warmth and light emanated from windows and open door. The door was always open, even in the worst weather. She liked that. It made her feel normal. If only that normal feeling would remain.
She went to the front desk where that heavy set Sergeant sat. He was always there, drinking coffee, picking his teeth with a pencil, always there. She nodded, he nodded. Up the stairs and to the right was the Commander's office. Clean but not shining. Warm but not stifling. The Commander looked like his office.
"He is sitting at his desk waiting", she thought. "I'll go in and say it straight away and then leave, no dallying". She knocks and enters, never waiting for an answer. The Commander sits at his desk reading reports, not looking up. "Well do you have the 'feeling'?", he comments. She has suddenly been struck with a most unwelcome knowledge. "Death", she whispers. "Death has come and will not leave your side". But, this is not the feeling she woke with. This is not what she had wanted to say. She swoons. The Commander jumps from behind his desk, shoving his chair over, reaching her just as she hits the hard wood floor. "You've never done that before", he says as he cradles her head. She does not hear him, the feeling is to strong and her defenses are not like her mother's. She cannot handle this, she wants to scream. The Commander shouts for a Watchman. She feels her body being carried to a bed, wet cloths to her forehead. She feels her mouth moving but no words, no sound comes out. "No", she thinks, "no, I will conquer this. I will speak as Oracle to the Commander. I will make this known, this feeling will be known".