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 Eyes of the Oracle

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Posts : 346
Join date : 2009-10-27
Age : 27
Location : Bangor, Wales

PostSubject: Eyes of the Oracle   Tue Jan 05, 2010 7:32 pm

Eyes of the Oracle

There is no such thing as Chance

"We have found it Mas-ster," spoke a purple-pink ethereal. "The Eye of the Oracle is-s yours."
Turning aside, the flowing robes of a Magister swept gracefully against the stone flags that provided flooring for Sunfury Spire. With one slender, blonde brow arched before the half-bowed ethreal, Jaelen Sunwhisper raised a couple of slender fingers and motioned for the being to follow him. In silence, save for the clicking of his boots against the stones, the duo moved down the corridor, with the ethreal's image jarring slightly every few seconds or so.
"You have done well, Mage-Hunter Sin'tar." Jaelen spoke, his words soft and warm, "Certainly a greater servant to this Kingdom than most who dwell within, yet of course, more importantly to our profits."
"I live to s-serve," said Sin'tar in his usual whisper.
"Return to the Ghostlands." said Jaelen, turning himself to face the purple-pink creature, made humanoid only by his enchanted wrappings, "Phantaz's movements are under observation already. Use the pages of our new lead to find the Sphere of Seconds before his Felguard manages it. We need the shard of time. Just in case."
"As-s you command." uttered Sin'tar, calmly bowing his curious form before drifting back down the way he had come, image jolting around in the space behind him as would be expected from his kind.
"Eye of the Oracle, hm?" pondered Jaelen to himself, fingering the rather ordinary-looking mana stone that'd been discreetly passed to him by the departed figure. "If only we had the pair."

"Sunwell!" cursed Jaelen, as he bumped rather awkwardly into a shelf on the way into his appartments within the structure of Sunfury Spire. "Burning Legion..."
Grunting and cursing further under his breath, the Magister rubbed at his bruised shoulder for some few moments, kicking the door closed behind him with little heed for it's noise as he moves further into the room and suddenly frowns, his foot catching against somthing small, hard and rather solid. Stepping back from the object, his fingers lower from his arm as he frowns at the floor. In the confusion of bashing his arm, the mana stone must've slipped from his fingers and rolled along the floor to that point, but further still was what puzzled the Magister most.
Spread across the soft red carpet before him was a deck of cards, tumbled from the shelf he had struck and now arrayed across the floor in a very haphazard manner. It wasn't a selection of cards he would've ever touched again, either. Some old gift from an exchange student back in the days of Falthrien Academy, a troll from Orgrimmar. Yet although the events that had unfolded before him were unlikely, they were just as important, for glinting amongst the scattered cards was the mana stone, the Eye of the Oracle. Laid out before him was the circle of events, a future he had only to decipher from the coloured, painted cards.

"Hours of a clock." muttered Jalen to himself as he took a knee amongst the scattered cards, mentally remembering their positions in the confines of his well-trained mind. "Hour is one, the path has barely begun."
Speaking these words with confidance, the fel-green eyes of the Magister turned towards the position of one o'clock around the central point of the mana stone, which seemed to light that portion of the circle with a gleam from the sunlight filtering against it's well-cut curves and catching Jaelen's watching eye.

Events are in motion, Star-whisper. Behold, you have fallen beside the King of Pentacles.
"Sunwing..." Jaelen muttered quietly, gaze bearing hards down upon the mana stone as he surveys the cards before him.
Look onwards, to the Page of Pentacles... how he rests under the Queen of Cups, so secure and so peacefull.
"Xondra, and my Son..."
Behold the descendants of the Pure. Behold the trio who will bear the battle. Behold the Queen of Swords, the Knight of Swords, and the Page of Swords. It was no mere chance that brought them to you.
"Blood Knights and a Thorn? They are the descendants of the Pure?"
Behold finally the Ace of Wands, who looks forlornly at the centrepiece.
"Heartbreaker." Jaelen mutters again, before the voice leaves his mind. "Tell me more, I must know more!"

Only silence follows.
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