I think anyone who reads this may notice some resemblances between the lives of the three Oracles, and how the stories are told. I am trying to give each one their own personality, but the three of them are still interconnected. Remember, as you saw last chapter, I'm not giving very many third-person details as to what's happening and why, since these POV's aren't very analytical. In my multi-chapter Matters of the State, the powers of the Oracles are outlined a bit more thoroughly as a part of the back-story, including the reasons as to why they're selected and what exactly is wrong or different about them.

The delivery style is supposed to be similar to that of a Memoir, which makes sense, since I'm currently in the middle of Memoirs of a Geisha and certain styles begin to rub off on me after reading them. Excellent novel by the way, I highly recommend it.

Chapter 2

I Am Din

I hated my parents. I hated their friends, and their children, and their pets and everyone else who ever came in contact with them. I hated everyone around me, I hated how perfect they all were, how they mocked me with their carefree lives and their easy tasks. How they could walk past me and smile was torture, how they could demand calm from me. How could they not know the difficulty of those commands? To think that I could so easily conform to the rules they laid down upon me?

When I needed to run, I would run. Let them shout at me to sit down, let them blister my feet with their straps. When I needed to shout, I would scream as loud as I could, so let them come at me with their rods, let them strike my hands till they bled. Let them do whatever they willed to me, it would make no difference, there was no pain greater than that inside of me, something not bred from emotion, but which toyed with it as a cat does a dying mouse.

How did they not know the pain I felt? All around me green would grow, and it would mock me as their smiles did. I remember the beatings upon me when I tore through that greenery, reached into the black soil to pry the life from it. And when the winter came, I would stand in a field of snow for hours until I could stand their shouting no longer and return inside. The snow frightened me as the flowers enraged me, so sudden and unpredictable, covering the life with barren white. I loathed the winter months, but come the spring the cycle would begin again. In the summer I would find myself down at the dry creek by the house I was kept in, to see the earth that mocked me so all torn with baked black cracks, I would fall to the ground and weep for hours.

There was never any respite from the pain and the conflict. Eventually, the people I so hated for their insults stopped coming near me, and I was glad for this. I clung to the loneliness their absence filled me with, used it to tell myself I was alright and that nothing was wrong. I could have been no older than ten when they stopped simply ignoring me, and instead came to me in the night.

Demon they called me, demon! When it was their eyes which shone with malevolent crimson in the torchlight, and they were the ones with the power to crush and destroy. The girl who screams then laughs and then cries in a single hour. Who wishes for life and then causes only death. Seeking peace through chaos. They called me a demon, and yet somehow although I wanted to blame them for the pain and the conflict within me, brought on by their stares and their chains, somehow I knew it was not true. What if I was a demon? What if all I wanted was peace and that by letting them do what they would to me, I could find it? A way to stop the pain...

But my will to live was stronger than my commitment to peace, that night was brisk with mid-autumn chill, something which sunk deeply into my bones and caused numb pains through me in the cold as I ran. I remember how the forest tried to trip me so many times, the dark earth all around me growing soft and hard when I least expected, tree roots curling up before me to cause hard bruises and shallow cuts as I hit the ground again and again. I hated those woods; I hated them almost as much as I hated the people behind me. Everything that was alive, I hated it all, hated it because of it's simplicity, and yet when all was dead in winter all I could do was be afraid, afraid of my own inescapable end.

I was screaming and in tears when he caught me. I remember how I tried to claw at his chest when his arms came around me from the shadows of the forest, how I nearly bit him when his hand came over my mouth to stifle my hoarse shrieks. I was terrified, but I was still so young and small that he just picked me up off my feet, and I lost the strength to fight... I expected my life to end right then, but he held me in his arms without doing anything, just held me against his chest with my face on his shoulder. All the shouting went away, all the whispering winds and sharp trills and snaps even a sleeping forest is filled with at night. All the sound went away. All the sounds but one:

Thu-dum-dum... thu-dum-dum... thu-dum-dum...

The world had never seemed so quiet...

When I woke up, I didn't remember having fallen asleep. I was awake for only a moment though, long enough to see nothing but the blue of the sky and scattered white of autumn clouds. I was thankful for the black curtain of sleep which fell back into place across my mind, I'd never known sleep as deep as that... A slumber not to be disturbed by sudden grinding anger or sharp pains in my heart, the need to scream tearing through quiet rest. For the first time in my life, I slept soundly, and well. I still don't quite know why.

When I awoke the second time, I learned that I was far away from the town I hated so much. Evening had fallen, and there were so many stars in the sky that they formed bands of white across the heavens, although truth be told I had no mind for watching stars. So tiny, insignificant, and annoying; and still so simple, yet untamed. I had always hated that about the stars; how they were two things and yet neither, it just seemed so hypocritical…

I was wrapped up in a cloak much too big for me, the outside was dark wool, but the inside of it was smooth when I rubbed my arms against it. It was strange, feeling silk for the first time.

For once, I didn't feel the need to scream, or run, or tear into things, something else had my attention, and took away the thoughts of my pain.

Tum-tum-pa… tum-tum-pa… tum-tum-pa…

He was a tall man with oiled black hair, and a thick moustache and beard oiled to a slender point under his chin. The first thing I noticed were his cloths though, which was strange for me. I'd always dressed in torn boys trousers, made of thickly woven cloths if not leather, only the most durable wools could clothe me, or else I'd tear them to shreds.

His clothing was in the form of thick brown robes, all covered with startling patterns and crossing lines. I hated the simplicity of things around me, but was mesmerized by the patterns scrawled along his front and sides. Across both shoulders, he wore two thick golden loops, as wide as my hands. Another thick bangle encompassed his broad throat, and all three of them seemed to glow in the firelight.

"My name is Eldin, do not tell me yours." He said; his voice was deep and powerful, with an air of command akin to the low crescendo of thunder. I found my eyes drawn from his hands, to his dark eyes as he spoke to me. There was something in his eyes and voice that seemed… almost familiar to me.

In his hands he held a drum, the source of that slow, steady sound, the one filling my ears as I sat there on the ground, crimson firelight splashing across everything under the cover of the night. The drum was little enough in itself, simply a ring of plain wood with a dried skin stretched tight overtop. But hearing the sound of it… never straying… I hated things that were simple and complex at the same time, but I couldn't hate that sound. The world was silent but for it.

I can remember every word he said to me that first night, how he watched me from across the fire, patting his drum softly and yet with such assurance that I couldn't feel enraged by it. He fed me rations from his saddle bag although I hadn't even noticed the horse nearby until that point, and bid me wash the dried meat and bread down with a gulp of water from his skin.

"I am going to take you home with me. No one will ever use your old name again unless you tell them too. So why don't you choose a new one instead?"

I took another name as he said, and stayed with him until reaching his home. It was over two weeks of slow, steady travel before we reached it however. All around me, the world was closing up for winter, and I shuddered silently at the horrible thought of it.

Despite the calm I had felt that first night, it never returned to me until nightfall when his hands would be free to play that drum of his. The uneven clopping of his horse's hooves irritated me beyond reason, and during the very first morning on our way north I remember how I clawed my way out of his lap, screaming in outrage since it was the only thing I knew how to do.

Throughout those hard weeks, he never once grew angry at me for these outbursts, never laid a hand on me to still my rants or raves. He wouldn't even call out to me when I ran away from him, only to return again before sunset. Come nightfall, he'd just play his drum and let me sleep, not minding any tears I shed or glares I sent his way.

The latter part of our journey involved climbing through the untamed mountains in the north of our country. I remember how mesmerized I was by the statues we passed at various points on that ancient cobbled road, cut into the mountains by ancient peoples. Some were small and stubby, so old that they looked like normal boulders save for a plaque before them or an alter for pilgrims to leave tribute. At the time, I had no idea where we were headed, but as I look back on it now I find it amazing that I didn't know already.

The gates to the Temple of Seasons were made of a deep red metal that looked as though it had rusted over, topped with golden spokes and large swirling designs of the four seasons in a deep aquarium metal, similar to copper, only more pure in colour. When I saw these gates for the first time, and the tops of the first two towers -two of the five within the walls- I was so stunned by them that I could forget my fear of the barren cliffs spreading all around us for miles upon miles on end.

In those first brief moments, I immediately thought of him as being one of the hundreds of the Temple Brotherhood, although I hadn't a clue which of the four seasons he may worship most closely. The crimson of his robes told me summer, but there was something about the bangles that told me it was something… more.

The great noise the temple filled with as we entered did not answer my question. The empty silence of the courtyard was shattered the moment the massive gates rattled shut behind us. People in all colours spilled from all the towers, screaming and cheering, throwing bits of coloured paper into the air and singing loudly. It was such a grand display, and so… so…

I would say that the chaos around me made me angry, but words cannot describe it. Suddenly that pain that had been with me my entire life flared within me, but on a level I hadn't yet known before. I remember his arms around me, catching me before I could fall from the horse in writhing pain.

The crowd didn't care to see a small girl fall, held screaming and in tears by their leader, the ruler of all our land. The only courtesy they showed me that first day was how they did not hold him up as he made his way on foot with me to the central tower. They wouldn't stop the Oracle. Because that was who he was; the man who'd rescued me from certain death in the middle of an autumn night, the one who wore such magnificent robes and thick bangles of office, he was the Oracle of Seasons.

You would expect to hear that I was given special treatment only in the way a small girl from a story book does, trying to assert myself without his attentions, or having him want me to live on my own without his assistance and my striving to please him incessantly. Well, that was not how things worked out. I was ordained within the Temple of Seasons, but was rarely out of the Oracle's sight. Other children within the Temple, some were jealous of the special treatment I received from him, always being taken out for rides through the country with him, serving him at meals and sleeping in a small room connected to his own.

The Temple was like a massive palace with four solitary towers, one in each corner and made of a different material. At the time, I didn't recognize the four symbols of the seasons for what they were, but after years within those walls, I can name them off by heart. Each tower had the symbol of its seasons emblazoned on all four walls in clear view from any point within the Temple.

The Tower of Winter was built of a pale alabaster, with speckled blue tiles for its roofing. Inside it was always cool if not cold, with fountains everywhere. The Tower of Summer was built from simple brick, and inside it was always warm, but with the comforting scent of spiced woods hanging from the ceiling. Its roof was made from golden panels. Autumn was similar to Summer with its wooden decor, but without the thick heat, instead, it always had an open feel to it, with the rich scent of the earth flowing throughout. Outside it was made from thick granite, and topped with spiced wooden shingles. Finally, Spring was built from a pale pink stone and topped with green, inside it was always filled with vines and flowers in constant bloom.

I was given lessons of course, I learned how to read and to write, but many of my lessons were taken over by the Oracle after only a few days of my inability to sit and be silent. I hated those commands, how people demanded of me that which I couldn't give.

The only lesson I did not need his attention for, and that which would eventually take over all of my waking hours, was dance. Music calms the savage beast, and it worked to quiet my inner rage for hours, it allowed me the chance to move when I needed too, gave my mind something to focus on. To listen and move at the same time, all my life I had always heard things that I couldn't react to, always had to move but there was never anything for my mind to connect with. Dancing, it was the only activity which could satisfy my innate restlessness.

Batons, blades, flames, strips of cloth, fans, nothing but my own hands, I could dance with anything. It was the only way I could feel free, and was the only time when people were not afraid to speak to me, to approach me, or see me as something other than the unfortunate little demon the Oracle had brought home with him.

I had lived within the Temple for three years before he woke me one morning with a wide smile spread across his face. He looked so odd that morning, with the dawn light hardly crawling across the courtyard of the temple. His face was wild with excitement, but there was a calm within his eyes that beguiled any flamboyancy.

Up until that point, I had danced and prayed within the four towers of the temple numerous times, and over the years, somehow that had made enduring the changing seasons somewhat easier for me. Of course, I would still hide from the snow in winter, still loathed the growth of spring, but life was easier even if the pain remained.

That morning, he took me to the fifth tower; that devoted to the entire year. Onyx stone and pearly white tiling, only the Oracle and his high priests prayed within the fifth tower, I had only entered it once or twice when attending him. He told me to dance for a moment to make sure I would be calm, but once I was finished that was where he led me. It was as though the entire Temple had awoken before me, in their best robes and hoods up over their faces. They filled the courtyard as I walked behind the Oracle towards the fifth tower, and to be honest I was terrified.

Incense smoke hung thickly in the air as I followed him through the tower doors, no torches were lit as the sun was still hidden over the eastern horizon.

He led me first to a small room where a set of plain white robes had been laid out, and he left me there to change. The outfit was even simpler than the apprentice robes I had worn for three years, covering me from the knees up, tying simply around the waist as the sleeves ended at my elbows.

After I had changed, he had been joined by a number of his priests in the hall, and they formed a circle around me before continuing to lead me through the dark corridors of the temple; it was so much larger on the inside than it seemed from the courtyard. Even now I don't know who the priests were who led me through the tower, chanting lowly with incense burners swinging in their hands from long chains.

The central chamber of the fifth tower was a circular room with a roof possibly stretching all the way up to the very roof. A single column of early morning light was streaming down from a hole somewhere far overhead as we entered, shining down on a thick black alter bare of anything else, and the symbols of the four seasons carved into the floor on a piece of white marble.

Standing in front of that light but not within it was a small girl even younger than I was. In the low light her hair looked black, but when she came up to me, something told me it was green, not blatantly so, but still green. She wasn't from the temple, I knew that for certain. She wore ruddy brown boots and a plain skirt of dark green. When she moved, I could catch flashes of gold behind her, some sort of clasps keeping her hair tied back. In her arms, she held a thick green book, and I can remember how the circle of priests broke away from me then as she stood there looking me over, before stepping out of my way towards the alter.

"Do not be afraid, child. Step into the light, and let the Goddesses guide you…"

I had never really been able to deny his voice, but had he not been the one to tell me to go forwards, I likely would have turned tail and run from the chamber and the tower. As it stood however, I felt the patterns of the seasons on the soles of my bare feet only a few moments later, and looked straight up into the light streaming down on me from above. That was the first time I noticed that it wasn't daylight, but something which shone golden from above.

What happened next? How I wish I could remember it clearly, but all that comes to me are blurry sensations. I remember bringing my arms up, and feeling something warm- but not hot- pierce my chest from above. I do not know how to properly describe any of it, how it was such a release to feel something strike right where that pain had always bit into me throughout my life. As though healing the tear I could feel within my soul.

I know that I danced, know that the black chamber was lost to me as I danced within the tower of the Year. Golden flames, I can remember them crawling along my form, like gentle fingers stroking away all the pains from life.

I saw the seasons… and for the first time I was not frightened of them. I could see how the tender life of spring strengthens itself into the vibrancy of summer, the flurry of activity brought on by that searing heat. The season is a low drone which one can sway rhythmically too in the midst of. I watched the blooms of summer give way to the sweet nectars and foods of autumn, how the world is filled with plenty. The gentle plop of ripened fruits falling to the ground, how like a drum which sets a steady beat.

Each tiny flake of snow, did you know that each one is uniquely different? Just like people, and when they stack up on top of one another, a mound of snow, really, is a mountain of tiny crystals to fine for any eye to see. The beauty of a sunset across a snowy valley is… breathtaking… allowing the world to sleep tenderly until the gentle touch of spring returns. The wind through the frozen branches is as the sighing of a choir, setting the cords for a slow waltz. Come spring, the ice melts, but not in a torrent, in a slow, melodic drip. The wind through the new leaves is symbols crashing and voices singing softly.

The world is… music… Even the silent stars have voices; but only if you care to hear them…

When the dance ended, I found within my hands a rod I had never seen before. Made of ivory with a golden cap at the bottom, its scepter-like head was blazoned with five stones. A Ruby of Summer, Sapphire of Winter, Amber of Autumn, and Emerald of Spring. At the very top was a pure flat of diamond; all four symbols gently pressed into its top.

Holding it, even now, seemed to calm me greatly, and I remember that first time how I fell to my knees with the scepter held against me like an old friend. I was left breathless after the light and the visions, it's surprising to me now how I didn't faint from the suddenness of what had happened.

The person who came to me first was not whom I had expected. Instead of the dark eyes of the man I expected, I was looking up into the detached emerald gaze of that young girl. I don't know if I can ever explain how I felt at that moment, seeing the lack of emotion within those green orbs. Somehow, when I looked at her that first time -as I have so many times over the years- I was able to look right into her heart. I could see something… wrong with her. Something small, out of place, and it was right next to her heart. It felt so tainted, so black, and then I noticed how she held her book was so like how I sat there clutching the rod…

"Here." She said, her voice quiet but without any discernable emotion within it. She knelt down in front of me and opened the book, looking over its blank pages before she reached for her belt and withdrew a long ivory pen. I could feel her eyes running smoothly from the book, to me, and then back again.

"Tell me… who are you?" He'd told me that first night to take a new name, and I'd never told my old one to anyone. Somehow though, as I looked at her…

"I am- no… I was…"

I am Din, Oracle of Seasons

Much much longer than I expected, but I was fairly confident Din's part would come out longer than Farore's.

Comments, anyone? Only one chapter left now.