Delphi II by Kizzykat
These aren't really separate chapters – I've just split for easier reading.
The Adyton
Alexander and Hephaestion stepped through the doorway, the bodyguards and remaining priests crowding behind them into the darkness of a small room at the back of the temple. The air, though not warm, was heavy with human warmth, the smell of fur, wood smoke, and a pungent mixture of sharp incense and strong herbs.
A single lamp, its brass bowl gleaming dully, burnt in a recess in the wall of the windowless room. Beneath its weak light sat a grey-haired figure draped in furs. The priestess was seated on a rough boulder, a small brazier glowing warmly to her right.
The chief priest bowed and greeted her, raising his hands above her head and invoking the god's presence to descend upon her. When he had finished, he stepped aside and the priestess raised her head with slow deliberation. She rose to her feet, spreading wide her gaunt arms to drop her fur wrap behind her. Clothed in a pristine white robe, she was a skeletal, middle-aged woman with gold at her neck and ears and thin grey hair plaited around her head.
Her thin face seemed to be all eyes, but she did not look at Alexander, seemingly oblivious to the men's presence as she brought a hand to her mouth and removed the wad of laurel leaves on which she had been chewing. Stretching out her bony hand, she dropped the wad into the brazier, where it hissed in the wooden embers and blue-green flames rose to devour the sacred remains.
An acolyte stepped forward bearing a small gold salver on which stood an ancient wooden cup. Bowing, he presented the cup containing sacred water from the Castalia spring to the priestess. The priestess raised the cup of water, potent with god-given properties of wisdom, to her lips, tipped back her head and drank. With a pained sigh, she lowered her head and held out the cup blindly for the acolyte to take.
Suddenly, a draft of cold air engulfed the priestess, making her shiver. Alexander glanced rapidly at the walls and roof, but there was no change in the light of the room, nor any sign of where the draft had come from.
The god's presence had entered the priestess with the cold air and water, and she suddenly seemed alive, focusing on the golden-haired Alexander.
"Well, my beauty," she said in a rusty, frail voice. "What wisdom would youth seek here?"
Heat flamed unbidden in Alexander's cheeks in the dim room and he stiffened in defensive pride.
The priestess stared at him with unearthly eyes, white visible all around the brown irises, so black with dilation that they seemed to breathe dark fire like the mouth of Hades. The god's soul moved in her eyes as she gazed at Alexander.
"Good lady," Alexander said, his voice cracking. "Good lady," he said again, his voice firmer, "my father Philip would know if the gods approve of his aim to liberate the Greek cities under Persian rule and avenge Persian wrongs against the Greeks."
"You do not wish to know that, beautiful boy," the priestess said as a slow smile transformed her face. "There are far more pertinent things the god could tell you."
Alexander stared at her, the orbs of his brown eyes prominent in his deep-set eye sockets and burning with ambitious dreams. "Will Persia be ours? Will the Empire fall to us?" he breathed, his heart in his voice.
"Will the lion be denied his prey?" the priestess answered him. "Will the wolf not be chased from the sheepfold when the king of the beasts seeks his meat? The sun will rise in the west and set in the east ere the lion of Macedon is sated."
Alexander's chin rose proudly, the light of triumph in his eyes as he beheld the god in the priestess's dark eyes.
"I would speak alone with the priestess," he said after a moment, his voice resonant with authority.
"That is not permitted, lord," the chief priest said.
Alexander turned his eyes upon the priest, imperious danger alight in them. "Then withdraw to the other side of the room," Alexander said.
The priest bowed in submission and signalled his attendant priests to depart. As they and the bodyguards pressed through the narrow doorway, Alexander's eyes touched Hephaestion's. Hephaestion moved to stand against the far wall beside the chief priest, who shifted slightly to stand protected in the corner of the walls.
Grown tired, the priestess had seated herself again on the boulder and was drawing her furs around her shoulders. Alexander stepped closer to her in the dim light and bent with his lips close to her grey hair.
"Whisper me, woman," he breathed into her ear. "Will I be famous? Will I be great?"
The priestess, one hand raised in the act of adjusting her furs, turned her head to him in clear surprise. Her eyes were focused, though preternaturally bright. "You will be dead," she said, her quiet words clear to Alexander's ear.
Alexander's eyes widened, though he held his face still not to show any dismay. He pressed close against her ear again. "Death is irrelevant," he whispered. "Will my name be immortal?"
"In the desert places, water will quickened the earth," the priestess said, her eyes clouding. "Seek in the sands of time for immortality."
A frown appeared between Alexander's brows at the cryptic answer, and he drew back. The priest took this as a sign that the interview was over and moved forward.
"The sands of time will shift," the priestess said. "All will be covered; all will be revealed. The past will breathe into the future. Death. And life intermingled. For all time. Eternity." Her babble died to incomprehensible muttering and Alexander drew back, glancing briefly at the priest.
"Will she be well?" Alexander asked. The priestess, mumbling, had begun to shake her head from side to side, forgetful of her dignity.
"Yes, lord," the priest said. "The god's presence exhausts her, and his passing leaves her bewildered. She will sleep now." He called a name, and the acolyte appeared to tend the priestess.
The chief priest turned to Alexander. "Lord," he said, "would you care to reveal your question and the god's response so that we may interpret the god's words for you?"
Alexander stared at him. "No," he said, his voice flat and uncompromising. He continued to stare unwaveringly with his large eyes at the man.
"Lord," the priest said, uncomfortable under Alexander's stare, "the god's words can often be unclear to the uninitiated. We would not wish you to be under any misapprehension."
"I am not," Alexander said, his tone a little more forgiving. "You have my thanks."
Alexander bowed his head briefly and, with a look towards Hephaestion, quit the oracle's room. They paused briefly to pay their respects to the god and then Alexander, his cloak billowing, walked with rapid steps the length of the temple, the bodyguard and chief priest hastening to catch up.
Once outside under the sky, Alexander paused in the chill, misty mountain air. His face was tense and uneasy and Hephaestion watched him anxiously. Now was not the time to speak to him in the presence of strangers.
"I wish to see the theatre," Alexander announced. "I have heard the view is exceptional."
"Certainly, lord," said the chief priest. "I will show you the way."
"We will find our own way. Point us in the right direction."
"Certainly, lord. Bear left behind these two tripods, and then straight ahead. Uphill to your right you will see the theatre. The views from the top tiers are indeed the finest in all Greece, if I may say so."
"You may say so," Alexander said tersely, and walked off, Hephaestion and the bodyguard in his wake.