Sitting upon a large velvet cushion, Psyche stared out of her window, her large, expressive eyes seeming to emit a sadness that no girl of her age should yet know. Brushing a stray hair from her face, she closed her eyes to feel the gentle kiss of the breeze coming in off the Aegean upon her cheeks. Down the hall she could hear her two sisters chattering merrily, no doubt about the swarm of suitors that had accosted their home within the past few weeks. Though the pair were bitter that all of the young men were interested in their sister, they didn't mind settling for the ones that she had rejected. Psyche would've given them all of those strutting peacocks if she could, she didn't have the slightest interest in any of them. While it was all very flattering, she couldn't stand the pressure she felt to live up the standard that had been forced upon her. However, that pressure was incomparable to the myriad of emotions she was feeling now. Running a slender finger over the stone of the wall, she remembered it so vividly she felt as though she could relive that very hour…
Treading slowly up the thin mountain road, Psyche pulled her hood farther down upon her face, just as her mother had told her to. Her father strode ahead of them as her mother walked beside her, none of them sure of what to expect. They had left the palace early that morning, and her father had forbid anyone from following him, even his most trusted bodyguards. They had made the trek to the mountain by themselves, and Psyche had smiled to herself, thinking that this was probably the first time they had truly been alone. As they neared the entrance of the cave, Psyche's mother faltered, stopping dead in her tracks and taking Psyche's hand tightly in hers. Turning, her father gave the two of them a pained look.
"Now isn't the time to change your mind, ladies. We're already here. Please, Filia, don't frighten the girl any more." Looking from the queen to his daughter, his face softened with concern. "Everything will change after this, for the better," he stated with a confident smile. Psyche simply nodded, wishing she could say she felt the same, as the trio entered the cave slowly.
The cave was dank and had a peculiar odor that permeated the stagnant air. It was as dark as pitch save for a few candles that had been placed along the floor of the cave that cast eerie shadows against the rock. A shiver crept down Psyche's spine as she wondered if there might be any way to escape this whole ordeal, but her thoughts were cut short as they reached a small room at the end of the tunnel. The space was filled with candles, and a haze of incense hung around them. In the center of the room sat a small, cloaked figure, and somewhere on the floor there was a faint hissing noise. Psyche's mother gasped at the sound and clung to her husband, who put a comforting hand on her arm as he spoke.
"Are you the oracle we have come to see?" he asked warily, guarding the two women behind him. Beneath a thick black hood, the figure nodded. Again there was a hiss, and near the figure's side glowed watchful serpentine eyes. Psyche stared at the creature in silent horror, unable to move until she saw the figure itself move. Slowly it raised a bony, shriveled finger, beckoning.
"Come here, child," the oracle rasped. Psyche glanced at her parents with uncertainty as she moved forward. Kneeling, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the light before she saw the face beneath the thick black hood. It was impossible to tell how old the woman was, but she seemed to be as old as the cave she inhabited. Her skin was as fine as parchment, pale from decades without seeing the sun, and wrinkled carved their way through her fragile face. She had shriveled to the size of a child, and her hands were no more than bone and muscle covered in delicate skin. However, the most surprising thing about this small, ancient woman was her eyes. The wide orbs should have been staring straight into Psyche's, but where the pupils should have been there was only milky white absence. Extending her wizened hands, the oracle gently touched Psyche's youthful face, her hands tracing over the apples of her cheeks, her straight, thin nose, her eyelids, her heavy, silken hair. Unsure of what to do, Psyche sat very still, trying to steady her breathing while her heart raced wildly beneath her breast.
"Such beauty…" the old woman murmured almost reverently. Closing her wide, unseeing eyes, the oracle's brow furrowed as she raised a finger to her lips. After what seemed to be an eternity, the old woman finally opened her eyes and spoke in a voice that was far stronger than before. "This girl is not meant for a mortal man. She has much more in her future."
"More?" Queried the king, his regal brow furrowed as he stared at the two of them.
"You shall hear from me in time," the oracle said firmly. "Now go. I can offer you no more service at this time than I have now. Wait for my word." At that the oracle pointed toward the door, her snake stirring at her side as if to echo her command. Psyche moved cautiously to her parents as she stared at the old woman questioningly, her mother putting a hand on her shoulder.
Psyche was completely bewildered. What could this mean? Not meant for a mortal man? What else could there be, if not for a mortal man? Then she thought of it; she must not be meant to marry. Perhaps she was to stay a virgin and devote herself to Artemis or Athena. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach, and whatever hopes she'd had of marrying and having a family of her own were immediately crushed. As they left the cave, she remembered looking back at the oracle and seeing her thin lips stretch into a smile, her blank eyes staring straight into Psyche's before she could turn away.