Disclaimer: Most characters appearing herein are, obviously, not my own.
A Throne of One's Own, Act 1: The Truth of Iblis
"Iblis, show us your Truth, so that we may marshal our fire according to Your will."
The hooded acolytes at the rear of the shadowy chamber echoed the pyromancer's incantation. The pyromancer herself, a lithe black cat in a scanty purple robe, cocked her head to the left and thrust out a paw.
The sharpness of her movements startled Shadow. Her gaze was more of a glare, her green eyes wide enough to reflect the entire fire burning in the shallow brazier in front of them.
Haltingly, the black hedgehog handed the cow's leg-bone he was holding to the cat. He hoped his hesitation would be mistaken for reverence.
Snatching the bone, the pyromancer's eyes snapped back to the fire. The flames flared as a young novice, little more than a kitten, cast a handful of something onto the brazier.
The pyromancer stood rigid for a spell, staring unblinkingly into the inferno. Then, she stepped forward and thrust the leg-bone into the flames like a hunter spearing a boar.
"Iblis, show us your Truth, so that we may marshal our fire according to Your will," the pyromancer intoned. Once more, the hooded acolytes behind them echoed her.
Shadow marvelled at the cat's poise. He was stood five paces from the brazier and could barely tolerate the heat. The soothsayer hadn't so much as twitched.
Tiring of admiration, the hedgehog's eyes began to wander around the chamber, taking stock of the soot-blackened stonework, then heaps of discarded oracle bones around the brazier's plinth. Clearly, Queen Rouge hadn't been exaggerating about the trust the local Agnians placed in these fire-worshippers.
Eventually, the pyromancer withdrew the leg-bone as violently as she'd inserted it. Shadow watched her examine the scorched fibula until he felt a paw alight on his shoulder.
"Iblis shall reveal his Truth presently," said the hooded acolyte, motioning to the curtained doorway with her free paw.
Against his better judgment, Shadow let the cowled cat lead him through the sanctum's doorway, across a torch-lit vestibule, and out onto the shrine's cobbled stone steps. There, she left him. Watching the acolyte slink back inside, the black hedgehog could already hear his wife's laughter ringing in his ears.
Of course the pyromancer couldn't let an oracle's recipient watch them divine Iblis's Truth. That way, every stray scorch mark and splinter could mean just about anything they wanted them to. By contrast, Amaranth's set of engraved bark tokens demanded a certain consistency in interpretation.
"Father!"
Shadow looked over his shoulder to see a young albino hedgehog in a turquoise tunic running across the shrine's dusty forecourt. Furrowing his brow, he went to meet his ten-year-old son at the foot of the steps.
"Quiet, son," he said, noting the annoyed glances of others waiting to hear Iblis's Truth.
"Sorry, father," Silver half-whispered.
"Why aren't you with the chariot?" asked Shadow sternly.
"We wondered what was taking so long. Lobo said he—"
"Lobo is a loyal thrall who knows better than to contradict those he serves," Shadow cut in, "Just as you should know better than to take advantage of that. The horses were your responsibility."
Silver looked down at his bare feet. His white fur was almost brown with dust.
"Sorry, father," he said meekly. Looking up, he gasped. "Is that the pyromancer?!"
"Not quite," said Shadow, looking over his shoulder.
A hooded acolyte was descending the shrine's steps towards them. The all-encompassing purple robe made it impossible to tell if it was the same one as before.
"Noble lord," she said, stooping forward in the most modest of bows, "Your Truth awaits."
Shadow nodded, took Silver by the hand, and started back up the steps. The acolyte didn't move. Undeterred, Shadow's free hand gripped the pommel of the shortsword at his hip. The cowled cat duly went ahead and drew back the curtain veiling the shrine's entrance.
The pyromancer awaited them in the torch-lit vestibule, holding the scorched leg-bone in both hands. regarded Silver with a fleeting glance, then her green eyes darted back to Shadow. The black cat's gaze was no less intense.
"Iblis has spoken," she said, "His Truth is this…"
The road that you walk
Is fraught with dangers unseen
Walk it warily
Silver winced as his father's grip on his hand tightened. Shadow's knuckles cracked as a fist formed around his shortsword's pommel. It was all he could to do to stop himself breaking the so-called 'oracle bone' over the pyromancer's head.
"Come, Silver," said Shadow tersely.
The black hedgehog turned heel and marched out of the shrine, down the cobbled steps, and through the disorderly Iblisian encampment. Stumbling along behind him, his ten-year-old son strained for a glimpse at the charms and trinkets being hawked by peddlers lining the dusty path.
He didn't dare ask to stop. Shadow was too deep in thought to hear him if he did.
Amaranth had warned him this journey would be a big waste of time, and because their child had listened so attentively to that fire-worshipper, he saw no way of stopping his wife finding out just how right she had been.
Damn you, Iblis.
"Lobo!" Silver called out as they reached the edge of the encampment.
A brown wolf perched on the footplate of a stationary chariot looked up. Scrambling to his feet, he knelt on one knee, head bowed.
"My lord," he said, once the hedgehogs were standing over him. "A…successful visit?"
"The less said on that, the better," said Shadow, "However, my son has something much more pressing to say to you."
"I do?" said Silver, looking quizzically at his father.
"Young lord?" said Lobo, looking quizzically at Silver.
The black hedgehog peered sternly at his son. "Whose responsibility were the horses?"
The albino hedgehog dropped his shoulders and looked to the kneeling wolf.
"I'm sorry I ran off like that. I promise I won't do it again."
"Think nothing of it, young lord!" gushed Lobo, clasping Silver's free hand with his paws.
Shadow watched the exchange impassively. The mere notion of a freeborn creature humbling themself like this before a thrall would have been anathema to him at Silver's age. However, Amaranth was very particular about how she wanted their household slaves treated, and who was he to argue?
"Silver, go yoke the horses," he said, "Then…you can drive us back to Dalriada."
Silver gasped. "Really, father?!"
"Really," said Shadow, clapping a hand on Lobo's shoulder, "I think you owe our…friend here that much."
A thrall was now a friend? Shadow mused. Marriage had changed him more than he knew.
Apologies for the bad haiku. I've always hated prophecies that pre-spoil plots.