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Scifi and Fantasy Forum: Writer's Showcase: SF/F Short Stories:
The Oracle Sat in the Dark
The Oracle Sat in the Dark
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This is my first try at a short story for a couple years, I've only been writing my novel. This is just a rough draft, which I started in a free-write and continued after my time ran out. Tell me what you think.
The Oracle sat in the dark, as always.
Two attendants stood outside her cave, holding great halberds of the lands strongest steel. It was the strongest steel because that was the King’s decree, and it was the King’s decree because no lesser steel would do for guarding the kingdom’s most valuable treasure.
For that’s what the Oracle was, and many knew it. Heroes traveled from all over to meet her in this cave, secluded in the Vale of Sorrows where many dared not travel unless they were accompanied by a stalwart warrior of stronger heart than the everyday man or woman. The Vale was home to many monsters after all.
With all the heroes traveling to meet her, it should not come as any surprise that on this particular night (it was as dark outside the cave as it was inside), a strong young prince of the neighboring kingdom Alathia had gotten it into his mind to traverse the vast untamed wilderness that lay between his castle and the Vale of Sorrows. He certainly had the courage for it, and the strength; he possessed skill with a sword unparalleled in his land, nor in many surrounding it, though it was a fairly useless skill for a prince to have when there was no war or trouble for many, many leagues around. It was the very fact that he possessed so useless a skill that set him in motion this night, for he sorely wanted to put it to good use, and the only good use for it was on the monsters of the Vale, whom nobody much cared for and who would almost certainly impede him if he should seek the advice of the Oracle.
So he donned his finest armor and strapped to his waist a bejeweled scabbard into which he thrust a sword with such a razor edge that it could split again the split hair of a manticore’s mane, yet for this the sword was strong and would not bend, even if swung hard into a living oak. With his armor, and his scabbard, and his sword, (and his shield as well, which was equally as impressive), he got up onto his steed and set off at a gallop for the Vale.
The Oracle smiled as she watched him from afar. She hadn’t seen such fire in a hero-to-be for many years, and she already wondered what task she would set this one to. She knew one thing for certain: he would arrive soon. That did not leave her much time to plan.
“Guards!” she said, “close the door. I must have time for thinking now.”
And she did think. In the dark. For many long hours, until at last she came up with the perfect task for this prince. It had been years since the last dragonslaying, and there were still a few of the beasts left in the far corners of the world. Yes, she could send this prince to find one of them and bring its head back to her.
“But no!” she screamed, not caring that she said it aloud, “that is far too predictable a task.
So she sat down in the dark to think again, and this time she thought for much longer. Any normal person would have required six meals during the time she thought, but she was the Oracle, and she was not normal.
And at the end of two days, she stood up and exclaimed, “Aha!”
She had come up with the perfect task for this prince, one for which only he was fit to do. In retrospect it seemed like such a perfect fit that she chastised herself by not having seen it before. Then she went for dinner.
The days up until the prince’s arrival passed very uneventfully. Several lesser heroes (and some who really had no business at all in the hero trade) came and the Oracle sent them away to their respective dooms. And at last the prince arrived.
He dismounted his steed and bent on one knee before the opening of the cave. He clasped his hands together and looked to the sky, whispering a quiet prayer to God before stepping over the threshold of the Oracle’s cave. He passed the guards, who did not turn their heads nor blink an eye at his approach. The Oracle did not blink either, her eyes followed the handsome prince until he knelt before her aged seat, withdrew his sword from his scabbard and plunged it into the ground at her feet.
“Wise and ancient Oracle,” he said, “I have traversed many miles of wilderness to hear your words and to receive from you a mighty task.”
“And I have one for you,” she smiled, “the mightiest and greatest that has been given to any gallant prince in many generations.” But all of a sudden she realized that her flawless plan for this prince was inadequate – he was quite different in person than he was when seen from afar.
“I will hear your words now, Oracle,” he said, and he bowed his head lower than it had been before.
The Oracle was silent. Her face still bore a forced smile, though inside her head was only panic and turmoil. How had she ever presumed she could find a task befitting of this prince. He was so strong and fearless that he would finish whatever task she chose without breaking a sweat.
“Oracle?” his head was still bowed but she could see his eyebrows raise, “what task have you for me?”
“Shut up!” she snapped, “I’m thinking!”
“Sorry,” he said, and as if to atone for the wrong, he bowed his head even lower. IT was nearly touching the ground now.
The Oracle’s mind raced. Dragons and princesses were out of the question, as were artifacts of ancient power. And with all the silver this prince was toting, werewolves wouldn’t even begin to pose a threat. Exasperated, she stood up out of her chair.
“Excuse me,” she said, “could you wait here? This will only take a second.”
The prince sat up and put his sword back in its scabbard. As he did, the Oracle left the room.
The guards didn’t move as she passed them, though they were more inclined to watch her than they were to watch the arriving prince. After all, heroes came nearly every day, but the Oracle hadn’t left her cave for a decade. Soon though, she was around the corner and out of sight. The guards lost interest, and still didn’t move.
Outside the cave, the sun was rising beautifully over the horizon. The Oracle stared out at the pink and azure sky. Then she shrugged, wishing she had time to appreciate the beauty.
What will the kings do to me if I don’t find a task? she thought. They told me years ago that I had to make sure none of the heros I sent away would ever bother anyone again. I don’t blame them, really, these heroes are all a bunch of egotistical jerks. One look at them would be enough to destroy a peasant’s self-esteem for weeks.
That was why the kings had set her out in this place to begin with. With all the heroes in the kingdoms during the early days, there had been a much higher suicide rate amongst the commoners and townsfolk who did all the work for the nobles. Not only that, but the nobles themselves were beginning to feel inferior. Who wouldn’t?
So they’d gotten together and proposed a plan, to rid their lands of heroes. They would set a wise and ancient Oracle way out in the Vale of Sorrow. And they would send the heroes to her. Half of them would die enroute, and the other half would die on the quests she set them upon.
In order to keep the plan going, the kings hired minstrels and bards to spread the tales of the heroes’ great bravery and eventual demise. When adventurous hearts heard these tales, they would be inspired to replicate them, knowing first that they must embark to the Vale of Sorrows to receive their quest.
But now the Oracle was stumped. She could not give this prince a quest that would guarantee his demise.
“What about the castle in the sky?” she asked herself.
But immediately she answered, “no.”
“The pirates of the Eastern Sea?” But that wouldn’t work, they’d all be dead of scurvy by the time he reached them.
It occurred to her then that there was one task that she had never had the heart to assign to any man or woman that had come to her. But now she had no choice.
This prince is strong, she told herself, maybe he can survive.
And some part of her hoped that he would, even though it was her job to hope that he wouldn’t. After all, you just didn’t meet people like him every day.
She went inside to the prince and told him the task she had thought up. He nodded gravely as he listened, sensing in her voice that he would die if he chose to accept this quest. But he would not turn it down. He’d read stories of such deeds since he was a small child, and knew that if he turned away now, he would be a coward.
“Thank you Oracle,” he said, and he left.
The Oracle watched his dark frame silhouetted against light that leaked into the cave from outside. The guards watched too, and shuffled their feet a little – they had heard the Oracle assign him his task.
They all watched, but soon the prince was gone. He would never return.
The Oracle still sat in her ancient chair. It was dark.
Posted By:  chowder Jan 06, 2005 - 04:36 am |       | Well written, liked the bits of humour thrown in. Is it complete? I don't read many short stories, but felt this one still lacked a piece of vital information: what the heck was the task?
I was wondering if that might be a problem. Either I need to play it up a little more, or just actually put the task in there.
What I was hoping to do is just leave the reader's mind contemplating this terrible task the prince has to do, but never really know what it is.
| Posted By: chowder Jan 06, 2005 - 11:05 am | | I think this is one time you can't leave it up to the reader's imagination--at least not this reader's imagination. Perhaps a hint of the task:
They all watched, but soon the prince was gone. He would never return. Who could survive a meeting with that dreaded beast?
The Oracle sat in her ancient chair, wondering if her ex-mother-in-law was still the horrid creature she remembered.
Well, you get the idea. I'd like to know the task.
Yeah, I'll try to come up with something. I like your ex-mother-in-law idea.
| Posted By: dleon Jan 08, 2005 - 03:50 pm | | i really liked it. it was very good. i agree with the others though you don't need to set a specific task but at least hint at one. you could set his task to be something that directly opposses the emperor or the lordships, like finding a guarded document that proves that the nobles had planned for the demise of every hero in the land. this way not only would he have to fight against the nobles and their hired armsmen but he'd also have to do something with the document after he found it so that everybody would know what was going on.
Yeah, I was reading back through it and I came to the same conclusion, I should have the prince's task be to end this system of sending the heroes to die.
Here's an updated version with a new ending.
The Oracle sat in the dark, as always.
Two attendants stood outside her cave, holding great halberds of the land’s strongest steel. It was the strongest steel because that was the King’s decree, and it was the King’s decree because no lesser steel would do for guarding the kingdom’s most valuable treasure.
For that’s what the Oracle was, and many knew it. Heroes traveled from all over to meet her in this cave, secluded in the Vale of Sorrows where many dared not travel unless they were accompanied by a stalwart warrior of stronger heart than the everyday man or woman. The Vale was home to many monsters after all.
With all the heroes traveling to meet her, it should not come as any surprise that on this particular night a strong young prince of the neighboring kingdom Alathia had gotten it into his mind to traverse the untamed wilderness that lay between his castle and the Vale of Sorrows to receive knowledge from the Oracle. He certainly had the courage for it, and the strength: he possessed skill with a sword unparalleled in his land, nor in many surrounding it, though it was a fairly useless skill for a prince to have when there was no war or trouble for many, many leagues around. It was the very fact that he possessed so useless a skill that set him in motion this night, for he sorely wanted to put it to good use, and the only good use for it was on the monsters of the Vale, whom nobody much cared for and who would almost certainly impede him if he should seek the advice of the Oracle.
So he donned his finest armor and strapped to his waist a bejeweled scabbard, into which he thrust a sword with such a razor edge that it could split again the split hair of a manticore’s mane, yet for this, the sword was strong and would not bend – not even to a dragon’s teeth. With his armor, and his scabbard, and his sword, (and his shield as well, which was equally as impressive), he got up onto his steed and set off at a gallop for the Vale.
The Oracle smiled as she watched him from afar. She hadn’t seen such fire in a hero-to-be for many years, and she already wondered what task she would set this one to. She knew one thing for certain: he would arrive soon. That did not leave her much time to plan.
“Guards!” she said, “close the door. I must have time for thinking now.”
And think she did. In the dark. For many long hours, until at last she came up with the perfect task for this prince. It had been years since the last dragon-slaying, and there were still a few of the beasts left in the far corners of the world. Yes, she could send this prince to find one of them and bring its head back to her.
“But no!” she screamed, not caring that she said it aloud, “that is far too predictable a task.”
So she sat down in the dark to think again, and this time she thought for much longer. Any normal person would have required six meals during the time she thought. But she was the Oracle, and she was far from normal.
At the end of two days, she stood up and exclaimed, “Aha!”
She had come up with the perfect task for this prince, one for which only he was fit to do. In retrospect it seemed like such a perfect fit that she chastised herself for not having seen it before. Then she ate dinner.
The days up until the prince’s arrival passed very uneventfully. Several lesser heroes (and some who really had no business at all in the hero trade) came and the Oracle sent them away to their respective dooms. At last the prince arrived.
He dismounted his steed and bent on one knee before the opening of the cave. He clasped his hands together and looked to the sky, whispering a quiet prayer to God before stepping over the threshold of the Oracle’s cave. He passed the guards, who did not turn their heads nor blink an eye at his approach. The Oracle did not blink either. Her eyes followed the handsome prince until he knelt before her aged seat, withdrew his sword from his scabbard and plunged it into the ground at her feet.
“Wise and ancient Oracle,” he said, “I have traversed many miles of wilderness to hear your words and to receive from you a mighty task.”
“And I have one for you,” she smiled, “the mightiest and greatest that has been given to any gallant prince in many generations.” But all of a sudden she realized that her flawless plan for this prince was inadequate – he was quite different in person than he was when seen from afar. Quite stronger.
“I will hear your words now, Oracle,” he said, and he bowed his head lower.
The Oracle was silent. Her face still bore a forced smile, though inside her head only panic and turmoil dwelled. How had she ever presumed she could find a task befitting of this prince? He was so strong and fearless!
“Oracle?” his head was still bowed but she could see his eyebrows raise, “what task have you for me?”
“Shut up!” she snapped, “I’m thinking!”
“Sorry,” he said, and as if to atone for the wrong, he bowed his head even lower, to the point where she feared he might strain his neck.
The Oracle’s mind raced. Dragons and princesses were out of the question, as were artifacts of ancient power. And with all the silver this prince was toting, werewolves wouldn’t even begin to pose a threat. Exasperated, she left her chair.
“Excuse me,” she said, “could you wait here? This will only take a second.”
The prince sat up and put his sword back in its scabbard. As he did, the Oracle left the room.
The guards didn’t move as she passed them, though they were more inclined to watch her than they were to watch the arriving prince. After all, heroes came nearly every day, but the Oracle hadn’t left her cave for a decade. Soon though, she was around the corner and out of sight. The guards lost interest.
Outside the cave, the sun was rising beautifully over the horizon. The Oracle stared out at the pink and azure sky. She sighed, wishing she could make the time more often to leave her dark cave, but knowing that she could not. Sitting in the dark was in her job description. But her mind quickly moved away from that topic. She worried more about finding this prince a quest.
What will the kings do to me if I don’t find a task? she thought. They told me years ago that I had to make sure none of the heroes I sent away would ever bother anyone again. I don’t blame them really; these heroes are all a bunch of egotistical jerks. One look at them would be enough to destroy a peasant’s self-esteem for weeks. And I’m sure the King of Alathia doesn’t want his own son causing such a stir.
That was why the kings had set her out in this place to begin with. With all the heroes in the kingdoms during the early days, there had been a much higher suicide rate amongst the commoners who did all the work so the nobles could sit in their halls and feast. Not only that, but the nobles themselves were beginning to feel inferior. Who wouldn’t?
So they’d gotten together and proposed a plan, to rid their lands of heroes. They would set a wise and ancient Oracle way out in the Vale of Sorrow. And they would send the heroes to her. Half of them would die en route, and the other half would die on the quests she set them upon.
In order to keep the plan going, the kings hired minstrels and bards to spread the tales of the heroes’ great bravery and eventual demise. When adventurous hearts heard these tales, they would be inspired to replicate them, knowing first that they must embark to the Vale of Sorrows to receive their quest.
But now the Oracle was stumped. This prince of Alathia was much stronger than any of the others she’d met, and somehow more tenderhearted. He carried himself proudly as any other, yet for this she did not feel the same revulsion towards him. She felt… compassion.
Suddenly, she knew what task she must give him. Not a task like the others. Not a quest upon which to throw away life. The people of Alathia had to know, and when their prince returned, they would. From there the word would spread. If it meant her demise, so be it.
She turned back to her cave, and hurried past the guards. They noticed a change in her demeanor, but nothing too worthy of their attention. They didn’t move.
The Oracle went to the prince and took her seat before him. He looked up at her, certain that she would now assign his task. And she did. Bending forward, she whispered it in his ear. His young eyes turned sorrowful for he had wisdom in addition to strength, and knew what it meant to do as she asked.
But he also realized the necessity of it. His father’s fathers were wrong in what they did. The people needed to hear the truth, and learn to accept it. They could kill him afterwards, but he knew that once he delivered the message, it would spread.
“Thank you Oracle,” he said, and he left.
The Oracle watched his dark frame silhouetted against light that leaked into the cave from outside. The guards watched too, and shuffled their feet a little – they had heard the Oracle assign him his task.
They all watched, but soon the prince was gone. He would never return.
The Oracle still sat in her ancient chair and awaited her fate. Even after the sunrise, the darkness wasn’t so bad.
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