CHAPTER 31: THOSE WHO DEMAND TO KNOW

The moment Lucian stepped into the compound, the air shifted instantly. It was calm, cool, and heavy with quiet reverence.

Rows of figures stood beneath the pale glow of lanterns, their robes white and simple, woven with faint silver threads that caught the light like frost. Their eyes, pale as moonlight, followed his every step, not in defiance, but in stillness, as if they had already seen this moment long before it happened.

They were The Oracles.

Bound not by chains but by the weight of their gift, they had lived here in solitude for generations. Their throats bore faint, silvery scars. Every vision they spoke left a trace behind, a soft shimmer along the skin, the quiet reminder of how truth always came with a price.

The moment Lucian stepped forward, the air grew still. The Oracles stood quietly in two rows, their pale eyes following him. None of them spoke, yet it felt as if every thought in the air belonged to them.

At the center sat the eldest Oracle. Her white robes brushed the ground, and her silver hair glowed faintly under the lantern light. Her hands rested on a bowl of clear water that reflected the moon above.

"Lord Drake," she greeted softly. "You came sooner than I thought."

Lucian stopped in front of her. "You were expecting me."

A small smile touched her lips. "We always are."

The silence between them lingered. Then, her eyes met his, steady. "Something has changed in your path, my lord. The flame you carry... it burns differently now."

Lucian’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

"So... what makes the great Lord Drake willing to grace us with his presence and come here himself?" she asked gently, curiosity and quiet amusement in her tone.

Lucian’s eyes flicked to her. He shot an icy glare. "Your foretelling is wrong. She is still alive."

The eldest smiled, small and unreadable. "So you want her dead?" she asked. The smile did not reach her eyes. "I’m sure that is not why you came."

He stepped closer, the air around him colder. "I didn’t come here to argue over words. I came for answers. Tell me what you saw."

The eldest’s gaze held his. For a moment, she said nothing, as if weighing each syllable. Then she crouched slightly and set her hand on the bowl of still water. The surface rippled once, like it remembered something.

"I saw you cry," she whispered. "Weeping hard, as her ashes scattered in the wind."

Lucian’s jaw tightened. "Then you saw wrong," he said coldly. "She’s alive."

A faint smile curved the Oracle’s lips, neither mocking nor kind, only knowing. "We... The Oracles never claimed to be right, my lord. We only tell what we see. It is up to you how you interpret it."

"But just before—!" Lucian’s voice rose, rough with frustration. He stepped forward, fists clenched. "You said I would kill my own wife! Why do you say that? Why?!"

The Eldest watched him quietly, unflinching. Then, with a calm that made the air seem still, she murmured, "You already know it in your heart, my lord..."

Her fingers brushed the water’s surface again, and the reflection rippled, shifting into faint shapes, fire and frost twisting together until one dimmed the other.

"If you came here to ask how you would kill her, I am sure... you already have the answer," the eldest said softly. "And remember... every sacrifice owes a price."

"Shut up!" Lucian roared, his voice echoing through the compound. An icicle, long and razor-sharp at the tip, formed instantly in his hand, glinting under the moon light. He thrust it forward, stopping just a breath away from her throat.

"You Oracles learned a new skill?" he hissed, eyes blazing with fury. "Do you read hearts now?"

The eldest didn’t flinch. Her gaze remained calm, unwavering, even with the cold edge pressing so near her skin. "No, my lord," she said quietly. "But yours is loud enough to hear."

The ice trembled in his grasp, a hair’s breadth from shattering, whether from rage or hesitation, neither of them could tell.

Lucian’s glare hardened, his chest rising and falling sharply. Then, with a violent motion, he turned and smashed the icicle in his hand. Shards of ice scattered across the stone floor, melting almost instantly.

"You Oracles..." he muttered darkly, his tone laced with disdain. "Never once have you used your gift for anything useful." He pivoted sharply, footsteps echoing as he strode toward the exit.

"My lord..."

The eldest’s voice stopped him cold.

Lucian’s shoulders stiffened, his face frowned really hard from rage.

"We were never to blame for the death of your mother," she said quietly, her tone steady but touched with sorrow. "We gave the warning to your father."

The silence that followed was heavy, so still it felt like the air itself held its breath.

Lucian turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable but the sharp edge in his voice broke through the stillness.

"Why him?" he demanded, his tone low but trembling with restrained fury. "Why the hell did you tell him?!"

The eldest did not flinch. Her silver eyes held his, calm and unyielding, like someone who had already accepted the weight of her choices.

"Because he asked," she said quietly. "And because fate often begins with those who demand to know."

Lucian’s expression darkened. "He didn’t ask out of love," he said through his teeth. "He never cared about her."

A faint sigh escaped the eldest. "No... but even the selfish can stir fate, my lord. And when they do, it’s always the innocent who pay the price."

Lucian’s jaw tightened, his hand curling into a fist at his side. "And you think that makes it right?"

"No," the Oracle replied softly. "But it made it inevitable."

For a long moment, Lucian said nothing. Then he let out a quiet, bitter laugh, one that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Inevitable," he echoed under his breath, before finally turning away. "You always hide behind that word. Pure bullshit."

He pushed the door open, the cold night air flooding in around him. "Pray you’re wrong this time," he muttered, and walked straight to the gate before glancing over his shoulder, "Seal them back."