Chapter 18: Oracles garden
The world changed when they stepped through the veil Selene opened.
One moment they were inside a crumbling cathedral surrounded by blood and shadows—then they were standing in a place that shouldn't exist.
A floating garden, suspended in the sky, wrapped in silver mist and ancient silence. Towering obsidian trees stretched toward a lavender sky, and petals glowed faintly under their boots like bioluminescent stars. The air was heavy with magic, and time felt... slower.
Lucien whistled low. "Okay, I'll bite. Did we die and go to a really aesthetic hell?"
"No," Selene said without turning. "This is the Garden of the Oracle. One of the last neutral places left between realms. No gods, no demons. Only memory."
Cain's hand hovered near his blade. "Then why bring us here?"
"Because your real story started here," Selene replied. "And the Oracle is the only one left who remembers it."
From the heart of the garden, a soft hum began to rise. A sound like a lullaby sung by someone centuries old. And then, through the flowers and fog, she emerged.
The Oracle.
She didn't walk—she floated—her long white hair trailing behind her like threads of fate. Her eyes were blindfolded with a strip of shadow, yet she moved like she could see every soul ever born. She had no wings, no crown, no weapons. Just presence. An overwhelming sense of knowing.
"You have returned," she said, her voice like wind through reeds. "Three pieces of a cursed soul."