The Vorrgistadt Saga: The Shattered Oracle - III - As Oracles are Wont to Do

III

As Oracles are Wont to Do

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"Yes, I stated I would be using them to look back into time, and I hoped they could be used to transfer oracle's knowledge for future use." Maenthrai squinted her ice-blue eyes and lowered her crimson brow. Her full lips began to curl into a snarl, but she did what she could to hold it back. She could not stand to look at Wynnol further, lest she tempt the darkness inside of her to command her abilities, instead she focused her attention on Hildger; the more polite one. "How can divination be possible without the ritual observances of the oracles? These rituals have been passed down since the time of the first Sharr-vhult. These aren't easy tasks; to pierce time, to control thought, and to harness the power of memory."

"Hah!" Wynnol blurted out and took a step back. Her head careened back while her arms still rested high on her chest. "You oracles are so stuck in your old ways! You haven't even bothered to change or alter those rituals..." She trailed off. "Probably since the time the first Morthavi left from Hoelv, neigh?" She dropped her arms and that same left wrist of hers lifted up to go limp, as if she was holding something invisible in it, yet again.

"You stated how important it was that we make the spheres able to store and capture memories, knowledge, and visions. Well, so, that future generations might use them." Hildger scrunched up his face as he spoke. He took a moment to let his lips dance on his face, pursing them from one side to the other. "We did as you asked. But, given that we are Azhemyra and the philosophies we abide-" He trailed off into thought again. He enjoyed choosing his words carefully, even if he talked very slowly. On one hand, Maenthrai commended him for his tact, while on the other his habits were getting annoying. "We to the initiative to, uh-" He lifted his left arm out and began to drum the fingers of his right against the metal gauntlet over his wrist. "I guess, 'stream-line' the process."

"It makes it so that anyone with even the most rudimentary understanding of aethyric energies can use the spheres properly. Latent ability or perfected, it really doesn't matter." Wynnol crossed the room towards the foot of the bed, turning from it and looking back. "The spheres don't just need the Haethrupex arts to work. Like you said when you first convinced Thaellon to come with you here, a few years back. The oracles are being killed off. You and your students are the last, neigh?" She smiled and sat on the foot of Maenthrai's bed. She lifted up one of her legs, bare from the knee down, to slowly cross over her other. "You said the spheres were for future generations. Well, who knows if there are any oracles in the future, let alone anyone proficient in magickal arts."

"I can see that point, but-" Maenthrai couldn't finish her thought before the young Azhemyra cut in.

"You oracles all think you're so special." Wynnol was getting cockier by the moment. "Well, now the 'non-special' people can use the spheres just as well as anyone else. Even a rural hedge witch can use these artifacts just as well as you could. Gehemol! Even a bumpkin farmer could at least use them to call out the basic memories trapped inside. You said the world is ending, after all. The first thing to go when the piss hits the fire is higher knowledge."

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