Dedicated to Siobhan
The city of Delphi stretched out before the boys, a sprawling labyrinth of ancient stone and marble that glowed golden under the midday sun. The streets bustled with life, filled with the chatter of merchants peddling their wares, the melodies of musicians on every corner, and the mingling scents of spices and fresh bread from the market stalls. It was a city of contrasts—beautiful yet chaotic, vibrant yet overwhelming.
Jay, Herry, Neil, and Odie trudged through the throng, weary from their journey but determined to reach their destination. At last, the towering facade of the Temple of Delphi came into view, its majestic columns and intricate carvings rising above the din of the crowd. The temple's grandeur loomed over them, a stark reminder of the importance of their mission—and a sharp contrast to the exhaustion written on their faces.
"Are we sure this is the right place?" Neil asked, his voice tinged with skepticism as his eyes flitted over the bustling scene outside the temple.
"Pretty sure," Jay replied, shifting the weight of his backpack. "Chiron said the Oracles are—OW!"
Before he could finish, a blur of gold swooped down from above, colliding with his shoulder. Jay stumbled back, his yelp of surprise drowned out by the piercing screech of the golden eagle, which had returned to its perch on his shoulder with the elegance of a king reclaiming his throne.
The bird stared intently at the temple, its sharp gaze cutting through the crowd. Passers-by stopped in their tracks, their whispers growing louder as they pointed at the peculiar sight. A red stray cat, lingering near a market stall, hissed at the sudden commotion before darting into the crowd and disappearing.
Jay groaned, rubbing his sore shoulder. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath. After enduring the eagle's talons for hours during the carriage ride, his patience had long since worn thin.
"Uh, yep. Something tells me we're at the right place," Herry said with a chuckle, extending a hand to help Jay to his feet.
The boys joined the line snaking around the temple grounds, the slow shuffle of feet doing little to ease their growing fatigue. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long, stretching shadows that only seemed to intensify their impatience.
"Jeez, you'd think the workplace of all-seeing Oracles would have more efficient customer service," Neil grumbled, crossing his arms as they inched closer to the temple's grand entrance.
"Watch what you say in there, Neil," Odie warned, adjusting his glasses. "I spent last night reading up on these ceremonies. The people here take tradition seriously. One wrong move, and they'll toss us out without a second thought."
Herry scratched the back of his head, frowning. "So… uh, what's the plan once we're in there anyway?"
Jay froze. He realized, with a sinking feeling, that he hadn't thought that far ahead. Navigating their way to the temple had consumed all his focus. Now, standing so close to their goal, he had no idea what they'd actually say to the Oracles.
The golden eagle shifted restlessly on his shoulder, its talons digging in. "Easy," Odie said, breaking the silence. "All we have to do is show them the eagle. I mean, come on—any idiot could see it's a sign from the G—"
Before he could finish, the eagle let out an ear-splitting screech. Passers-by winced and covered their ears, muttering curses as the bird flapped its wings furiously.
Neil shot Jay an exasperated look. "What is his problem?" he shouted over the commotion.
"How should I know? OW!" Jay yelped as the eagle dug its claws deeper, its wings thrashing with impatience.
"I cannot wait until we can ditch this thing!" Neil snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration.
As if understanding the insult, the eagle abruptly launched itself into the air, its golden feathers glinting in the fading sunlight. In a single swoop, it disappeared into the clouds, leaving the boys stunned.
"Neil!" Odie cried, spinning toward him. "What did you do?! You know the stuff you say always comes true!"
"That was not my fault!" Neil snapped, throwing his hands in the air. "How was I supposed to know the bird could understand me?"
Odie clenched his teeth, his fists tightening at his sides. It took everything in him not to snap back. Sensing the brewing tension, Herry quickly stepped between them, though his own frustration mirrored Odie's.
"Never mind that now," Herry said, his tone firm but calm. "We'll just have to go in and explain what happened."
Jay rubbed his temple, his brow furrowed in thought. "Maybe we won't have to explain too much after all…"
The others turned to him, confused.
"One of the Oracles can see into the past, right?" Jay continued, his voice steadying. "If she can read our memories, she'll see that we were sent by Chiron and the Gods. That should be enough."
The group fell silent, mulling over the idea. It seemed… simple enough.
Odie adjusted his glasses, letting out a measured breath. "That might just work…" he admitted.
Jay's gaze shifted to Neil, his expression sharp but not unkind. "Maybe it's time to start using your gift in more productive ways," he suggested.
Neil sighed dramatically, brushing imaginary dust from his shirt. "Fine. Like getting us to an Oracle fast so I can finally get some rest."
"And some dinner," Herry added with feeling. "I'm starving."
As the boys approached the temple's entrance steps, a commotion from within caught their attention. A young woman, dressed in travel-worn clothes, was being roughly escorted out by two temple attendants.
"But you aren't listening to me!" she pleaded, her voice echoing across the courtyard. "The Darke Forest is spreading. It's attacking villages!"
Her desperate words were met with cold indifference. "As we told you last week," one of the attendants replied brusquely, "and the week before that…"
"The Oracles will not be disturbed by such conspiracy and nonsense," the other finished, his tone dismissive.
"Didn't you hear me? People are getting hurt!" the woman insisted, her voice rising.
"You will leave at once," the attendants said, shooing her away. "Or next time, it will be the city guard escorting you out."
The young woman stood frozen for a moment, watching as the men disappeared back inside the temple. Her face was etched with frustration, her jaw clenched as she ran a hand through her short, fiery hair. Her hazel eyes scanned the crowd.
When her gaze locked with Jay's, a flicker of mischief danced across her face. A sly smile curled at the corner of her lips, and before he could even blink, she spun on her heel and vanished into the bustling throng.
"What was that all about?" Herry asked, his attention lingering on the temple doorway.
"No idea," Jay replied, his voice low with curiosity. "But it seemed pretty serious."
As their turn finally came, the boys were ushered into a small antechamber preceding the grand hall of the temple. The room was dimly lit, its walls adorned with ancient carvings of Olympian symbols. A temple attendant greeted them—a middle-aged man with a lined face and sharp, scrutinizing eyes. He barely looked up from the scrolls in his hands.
"State your business, please," the man said, his voice clipped and impersonal.
The boys exchanged uneasy glances before Jay stepped forward, doing his best to sound confident. "We were sent by the centaur Chiron, and we need to speak to the Oracles. It's urgent."
The attendant raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanging. "Sent by Chiron, you say? And yet, I see no evidence of such a claim."
"It's important," Jay pressed, his tone firm but nervous. "We received an omen from the Gods and were sent here to consult with the Oracles."
"I see," the attendant replied dryly, adjusting his crooked glasses. "The Oracles do not grant audiences lightly. If what you say is indeed true, then perhaps you can describe this so-called 'omen'?"
The boys exchanged a series of panicked glances, each hoping someone else would come up with a convincing answer.
"Well…" Jay began hesitantly.
"A really big bird went through a window," Herry offered confidently, crossing his arms as though it explained everything.
The attendant chuckled softly. "Young man, if everyone sought the Oracles' guidance over every animal encounter, we'd have a line stretching to Olympus…"
Odie shook his head, his eyes falling to the floor. He muttered a silent prayer to Hermes for safe passage, his thoughts racing. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flicker of movement.
Adjusting his glasses, he caught sight of a blur of red fur sweeping behind the attendant.
A cat, he realised, enjoying the irony.
The feline paused as it reached the threshold of the grand hall, its lithe body poised like it sensed it had been noticed. Its large hazel eyes locked onto Odie's with an almost human intensity, a silent challenge gleaming in their depths. It was as if the cat dared him to expose its covert mission.
Odie held its gaze, giving no indication of protest. Seemingly satisfied, the cat flicked its tail with quiet elegance before slipping past the threshold and vanishing into the shadows of the next room.
Jay pressed on, breaking the moment. "We may not have physical proof, but if we could just show the Oracles our memories, then—"
"I'm sorry, but the Crone Oracle is not attending today's council," the attendant interrupted, his voice clipped and final. "You'll have to come back next week."
Jay opened his mouth to argue, but the man raised a hand, silencing him before he could get a word out.
"Uh, excuse me!" Suddenly, Neil stepped forward, his usual swagger cutting through Jay's uncertainty. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, his voice dripping with royal confidence. He held up his hand, flashing the signet ring on his pinkie finger. The royal emblem gleamed in the temple's dim light. "I don't think my father would appreciate hearing that his son was turned away from Delphi."
The attendant's face went as pale as parchment. "Y-your majesty—" he stammered, fumbling with his robes in a flurry of awkward movements. "My apologies, Your Highness! B-but the Oracles' schedules are very strict. Perhaps we could arrange something for later this—"
Neil narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, the subtle gesture enough to silence the man mid-sentence.
"No, no—uh, yes, of course, Your Highness! Right this way…" the attendant sputtered, hastily correcting himself.
The boys stood frozen in stunned silence as the attendant bowed and gestured Neil toward the hall.
"I can't believe that worked," Herry whispered to Odie, his voice barely audible over the sound of Neil's triumphant footsteps.
Jay peered inside expectantly. The Great Hall was bathed in the warm, golden glow of the late afternoon sun, the light streaming through high arched windows and casting long, dramatic shadows across the polished marble floor. The room was immense, every detail designed to overwhelm the senses: intricate mosaics depicting legendary battles and feats of the Gods adorned the walls, while towering statues of the Olympian deities loomed above, their gazes seeming to follow every movement.
At the far end of the hall, two women in flowing traditional robes sat on a raised dais, their serene yet imposing presence amplified by the empty seat between them. The boys hesitated as they approached, their footsteps echoing against the vast silence of the chamber.
With every step, the atmosphere grew heavier, the sheer scale of the hall—and the divine figures it honoured—magnifying their unease. What was meant to inspire reverence felt more like a silent judgment, the weight of unseen eyes pressing down on them.
As the group drew closer, Jay's attention was first drawn to the Mother Oracle. Her presence was formidable—sharp eyes scanning the group with a calculating gaze, as though she could see straight into their souls. There was an air of authority about her, an unspoken command of the present that made him instinctively stand straighter.
But it was the younger of the two who truly caught his attention—the Maiden Oracle, he assumed. She looked to be about his age, her strawberry blonde curls tumbling to her waist in soft waves that seemed to catch the golden light. Her white ceremonial robes gleamed with an almost ethereal quality, and for a moment, Jay wondered if she was glowing.
Girls rarely made him blush, but standing before her, something about her presence struck him with an intensity he couldn't explain. It wasn't just her beauty—it was something deeper, an unspoken power that radiated from her. Awe and unease gripped him in equal measure, leaving his thoughts scattered and his tongue tied. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, drowning out whatever words he might have said.
Theresa sat beside the Mother Oracle, her gaze lingering on the horizon where the setting sunbathed the room in hues of gold and amber. Yet her thoughts were far from the present. Her mind danced through the fragments of her earlier visions, circling around something just out of reach.
There was a shadow in her thoughts, a presence she couldn't define. She didn't know what it was, only that it hadn't yet come to pass—but it was drawing closer, like storm clouds gathering at the edge of a clear sky.
She appeared distant when Jay stepped forward, his shoulders squared though his voice wavered slightly. "We were sent by the centaur Chiron, on a mission from the Gods," he said, striving for confidence. "We need the guidance of the Oracles."
Theresa turned her head, meeting Jay's eyes for the first time. The moment stretched, the air between them stilling.
She had spent hours sifting through the fragments of her vision—so vivid yet maddeningly indistinct. Faces, places, emotions had blurred together in a whirlwind of chaos. But through it all, one image had burned the brightest: the face of a boy.
The leader.
Him.
Now, as he stood before her in the Hall, that familiar tingling at the back of Theresa's mind returned, stronger than ever. Her pulse quickened as her gaze swept across the boys' faces. The sense of recognition, hazy at first, grew sharper with each passing second, like a puzzle piece clicking into place. She could feel it—something was about to happen.
The Mother Oracle's piercing gaze locked onto Jay. She said nothing, but the weight of her scrutiny was almost unbearable. Jay swallowed hard, his shoulders stiffening as though bracing himself against an unseen force. It wasn't just her presence—it was the way she seemed to peel back the layers of his thoughts, stripping away pretense.
And she was.
Her divine gift, the ability to see the truth of the present, allowed her to delve into the thoughts and intentions of those before her. Jay could feel it, as though his very essence was being laid bare under her gaze.
For a moment, the room fell deathly silent. The faint rustling of robes and the distant hum of the temple faded into nothing as the Mother Oracle's eyes narrowed, assessing them with unnerving precision.
Finally, she spoke, her voice calm but filled with quiet authority. "You speak the truth, young man. But truth alone is not enough."
Theresa glanced between Jay and the Mother Oracle, her heart thudding in her chest. Her eyes lingered on Jay a moment longer, the tingling in her mind intensifying. This wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be.
She had seen these boys before—along with others—in the fragments of her vision. She didn't know all the details, but she knew. They were vital. They were meant to play a pivotal role in the events to come.
And she knew they needed help.
"The temple has no time for half-baked quests and wild goose chases," the Mother Oracle said firmly, her sharp gaze shifting between Jay and the others. "The Gods may have sent you, but their reasons are not clear. You will find no answers here today."
"Wait—" Theresa's voice broke through the air, soft but urgent. All eyes turned to her, and for a moment, she hesitated. The weight of what she wanted to say pressed heavily on her chest. How could she explain what she felt, what she knew? How do you tell someone they're the key to something far greater than they could imagine?
"They're connected to something bigger," she said finally, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. "I saw them in a vision. We should listen to them—"
The Mother Oracle raised a hand, silencing her mid-sentence. "The present does not always align with what is to come, Theresa," she said, her tone calm but unyielding. "Your visions, while powerful, are still unmastered—uncertain. The future you see may shift with the slightest change. Your sight is not yet reliable enough to interpret the Gods' will without question."
Theresa's heart sank at the words, but she held her ground, her fingers curling tightly around the edges of her robes.
Jay opened his mouth, ready to argue, but the Mother Oracle raised her hand again, her dismissal final. "Go," she said, her voice ringing with authority. "Return when your purpose is clearer."
The attendant who had led them in appeared at their side, poised to escort them out. Jay clenched his fists, frustration boiling beneath his calm exterior. He knew arguing would get them nowhere, but the dismissal stung.
Herry, less inclined to stay silent, stepped forward, his face flushed with anger. "Hang on a second—"
His words were cut off by a sudden commotion.
A blur of red streaked across the room. The small cat that had slipped into the temple earlier darted from behind a statue of Artemis, sprinting toward the dais with startling speed. As it neared the Oracles, its body began to change—elongating, twisting, reshaping itself.
By the time it reached the base of the dais, the cat was gone, replaced by the figure of a young woman. Jay's eyes widened in recognition. It was the girl from outside.
She shook out her short, fiery hair, glaring fiercely at the temple attendant.
"You!" the attendant sputtered; his voice sharp with outrage.
The young woman ignored him, her attention fixed on the Oracles. Jay instinctively stepped back as she strode forward, her movements confident, her gaze unwavering.
"Your Grace," she began, her voice ringing through the Great Hall. "Our people need help. The Darke Forest is spreading."
Her words echoed against the marble walls, heavy with urgency. "Every day, entire villages are being wiped off the map. People are getting hurt."
She glanced between the two Oracles, her eyes blazing with determination. The Mother Oracle's expression remained inscrutable, her silence adding weight to the moment. The Maiden Oracle, by contrast, sat frozen in shock, her wide eyes fixed on the girl.
"If we don't act now," the girl continued, her voice rising, "it's going to consume everything in its path. We need to defend ourselves. Warn the surrounding villages. Do something!"
The Mother Oracle's eyes narrowed at the girl's entrance, her voice calm but cutting. "What is your name, child?"
"Atlanta," the girl replied, her tone steady despite the tension in the room.
The Mother Oracle pressed on, her gaze unrelenting. "Do not think your intentions to deceive my staff has gone unnoticed, Atlanta. Deception lingers on one's aura like a foul stench," she said, her words as sharp and cold as ice. "The temple is very strict about the matters brought before us. Many citizens come with many grievances, but storming in with wild tales will not grant you an audience here."
Atlanta bristled at the accusation, her hands clenching tightly at her sides. "They aren't tales!" she shot back; her voice heated but unwavering. "I've seen it myself. Villages swallowed whole by the darkness…"
Her gaze shifted between the two Oracles before locking onto Theresa's. "And I'm not the only one who's seen it."
Theresa's breath caught in her throat. Her gaze sharpened as she looked at Atlanta—really looked at her. That fiery red hair, the fierce determination in her stance—it stirred something deep within her psyche.
There it was again, that flicker of recognition. The fragments of her earlier vision came rushing back, hazy but vivid enough to set her pulse racing. She had seen this girl—seen her fiery presence in the chaos of her vision, standing alongside faces and moments that had yet to fully form.
Jay felt a strange connection to Atlanta as she spoke, her words echoing the warnings he'd received from Chiron. There was something about her presence—fierce, unrelenting—that struck a chord deep within him. He stepped forward instinctively, but before he could speak, the Mother Oracle rose from her seat, her expression severe.
"That is enough," she said, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. "Guards, escort this girl out. Theresa and I will not be disturbed by such nonsense."
Two temple guards stepped forward; their footsteps heavy against the marble floor. Atlanta stiffened, her eyes darting between the approaching guards and the Oracles, her frustration barely contained.
"Wait," Theresa interjected, rising from her seat as well. Her voice was hesitant but clear, her brow furrowed in concern. "We have to listen to her."
The Mother Oracle turned to her, her sharp gaze narrowing. "Excuse me?" she said coldly. "Theresa, this is not a matter for debate. The Darke Forest is a known threat, but it has been contained before. There is no need for unnecessary alarm."
Atlanta's eyes flashed with frustration, her fists clenching at her sides. "You don't understand!" she said, her voice rising. "It's different this time. It's… it's alive, like it's feeding on something. And it's growing stronger."
Theresa's heart pounded in her chest. The urgency in Atlanta's eyes was undeniable, and the tension in the air pressed against her like a tangible force. She stepped forward, hesitating only for a moment before placing a hand on the Mother Oracle's arm.
"Please, listen to her," Theresa said, her voice trembling slightly but carrying an undercurrent of quiet conviction. "I've… I've seen something too. Something that connects to this. To them." She swallowed hard, her gaze unwavering. "She's right. We can't ignore this."
The Mother Oracle's sharp eyes studied Theresa for a long moment, her expression unreadable. The room seemed to hold its breath. Even she, with her unshakable presence, could sense the disturbance lingering in the air. But her role was to remain steady, a beacon of logic in the face of uncertainty.
"Very well," the Mother Oracle finally said, her tone measured but firm. "But, Atlanta, we cannot act on panic alone. We will seek guidance from the Crone Oracle before deciding our next move."
Atlanta clenched her fists at her sides, frustration flickering across her face, but she nodded reluctantly. It was far from the answer she wanted, but she understood it was the best she would get for now. Theresa caught her eye, tilting her head ever so slightly in a gesture of reassurance. She held Atlanta's gaze, her expression calm yet determined, the unspoken promise of solidarity lingering between them.
As the guards began to usher them away, Jay's steps faltered. Something pulled at him, and he turned his head, glancing back over his shoulder.
There she was.
Theresa stood rooted in place, her robes catching the faintest breeze. Her eyes lifted, meeting his across the vast hall. In that moment, the noise and movement around them faded into silence. Jay's chest tightened, though he wasn't sure why.
Her gaze held his, steady and searching. Neither spoke, but there was a pull—a thread stretched taut between them, unseen but unbreakable. For a heartbeat, time seemed to hold them there, suspended.
Then the moment passed. The guards urged Jay forward, and Theresa's figure receded into the golden glow of the hall. Still, the weight of that glance lingered, like the whisper of a prophesy yet to be fulfilled.