The Oracle (Dream Fragment)
Warmth brushed his cheek.
Not the cold moonlight of the Hollow.
Not the trembling glow of fear.
Something softer.
Something he had once known.
The Oracle opened his eyes.
He stood in a clearing washed in gentle gold — a Hollow untouched by corruption. The trees shimmered with silver veins, their leaves whispering in a language that felt like a lullaby. The air hummed with quiet magic, warm and alive.
A memory.
He wasn't in it — he was watching it.
A younger version of himself stood a few steps ahead, glowing faintly like a lantern. Small. Bright. Innocent. He nudged a patch of glowing moss with his foot, giggling as it puffed up tiny sparks of light.
Then a voice — warm, distant, distorted like it was echoing through water — spoke from somewhere just out of sight.
"Little one… do you remember your purpose?"
The younger Oracle sighed dramatically, shoulders slumping. "Yes… I remember."
He kicked the moss again, pouting. "I'm supposed to keep the Hollow balanced. Protect its heart. Make sure everything stays… whole."
The voice hummed, gentle and approving.
"Good."
"But I don't like it," the younger him added quickly, cheeks puffing out. "It's too much. Too big. I just want to explore and play and do fun things. Why does it have to be me?"
A soft laugh — warped, layered, impossible to place — drifted through the clearing.
"You said that before."
"I'll say it again," the boy muttered. "It's too much responsibility."
The unseen figure stepped closer — but the memory blurred their shape, smudging every detail into light. Only warmth. Only presence.
"You were never meant to carry it alone."
The younger Oracle perked up slightly. "I wasn't?"
"No."
A pause.
Soft. Heavy. Meaningful.
"I am here with you. Always. You will never be lonely. You will never shoulder this burden by yourself."
The boy's expression softened into a shy smile. "You mean it?"
The voice warmed — a tenderness so deep it made the present Oracle's chest ache.
"Always."
The younger Oracle, reassured, immediately crouched to poke at a glowing mushroom. It squeaked. He giggled.
The unseen figure shifted — the memory trying to sharpen, trying to pull his attention back.
"Little one… listen."
He didn't.
He was too busy making the mushroom squeak again.
The voice tried once more — firmer this time, but still distorted.
"Rielun—"
The present Oracle's breath caught.
But he didn't hear the name.
Not fully.
Not clearly.
Just the shape of it.
Just the echo.
The memory flickered violently.
The trees dimmed.
The golden light trembled.
The ground cracked beneath the younger boy's feet.
The unseen figure reached toward him — a hand made of light — and the name fractured into static.
"Rie—…lun—…"
The younger him finally looked up, startled. "Wait—!"
The memory shattered.
Darkness swallowed everything.