Delaroth has spent all eternity shrouded in loneliness. What he seeks is his Fated One. Will the journey to find her be easy as it sounds? [Cover by Bathroom Singer]----------------------------------------Oh Yellow Rating for the swear words, I think.


3. Chapter Two


The Oracle was an eccentric vampire. She was only seventy vampire years old and one of the most powerful vampires of the Era, sporting a purple hair covering her scalp and blue twinkling eyes that seemed to know everything. She always wore Indigo robes and had piercings on her eyebrow and lower lip. Her style came from Japan, she had said once. A former human, who by a chance of luck turned out to be the Oracle, the Vampires had been waiting for, since the death of the former Oracle, which was one thousand years ago.

Sadly, she did not feel that way. Perhaps it was the compulsion of the Spirits, which trapped her physically within her pearl room that made her detest it. Or perhaps it was the lack of human contact or socialization.

“Ah, Delaroth,” she sang in her usual singsong voice. “Welcome, welcome. What brings you to my humble abode?”

The place in no way was humble. It was in pure pearl. Pearl had spiritual properties that soothed the Oracle’s sanity. Nevertheless, each Oracle had their eccentricities.

She had posters of human celebrities plastered on the walls, and whatever space remained- shelves covered it. Those shelves were always locked, Delaroth wanted to know what lied inside it, but the Oracle would never have it. They never got along.

“You know what brings me here,” Delaroth replied gruffly.

“How would I know? Am I psychic? An Oracle?” she laughed and addressing to Severus, “Oh, Severus. Isn’t there a party or something? Be a dear and get me fifty caskets of the finest rum. I’m thirsty.”

“Of course, the All-Seeing one,” Severus bowed and headed his way towards the festivity.

“Why does he have to call me that?” she asked Delaroth. “Isn’t Rachel good enough? I really don’t understand vampires and the obsession with titles… Anyway, at least he won’t eavesdrop on us.”

“Hasn’t seventy years been enough to be accustomed to our ways, Oracle?” he scoffed.

She frowned. “Then, I bet you can live without your girlfriend for another seventy years, right?” she remarked without hiding her annoyance.

“Out with it,” he demanded. He was a king and no one dared cross their limit.

“Damn vampires and their stupid ways,” she muttered under her breath.

Kneeling to the floor, she folded her hands and then pressed her palms against the cool pearl surface.

“Dezvăluie Toate,” she chanted.

Spiral patterns of light emerged from the floor; instinctively Delaroth’s hand went to his sword’s handle. Even though he had experienced the Oracle’s working many a times, he could never get used to the lights. He experienced a ripple of fear in his body whenever he saw the light illuminating the room. For a fearless king, even a tremor of fear brought extra caution.

“Delaroth,” she chuckled, “the lights don’t eat you up.”

Delaroth tightened his fist. She knew that lights cannot harm the vampires, but they could not stand any form of natural or spiritual lights. Their kingdom was cloaked in perpetual darkness, with lights touching the land once a year, for an entire month. Most vampires remained indoors or visited other kingdoms during that period. The Oracle basked in the sunlight and harbored a tan from her open windows. She was the only one who rejoiced when the Light Month arrived.

“Arată-mi!” she chanted.

The lights grew dimmer and eventually faded.

“That’s not right,” she murmured. Her eyebrows knitted up in confusion and her lips turned into a frown.

“What is the matter?” he asked, confused. Of all the times he had witnessed Oracle performing Revealing, the lights hadn’t faded until he had seen what she intended for him to see.

“I can’t show you,” she spoke softly, shaking her head. “It’s not working.”

He kept quiet so that she could continue.

“Delaroth,” she stuttered, “I made a mistake.”

“What mistake?”

“Your Fated One… She is not of this Realm.”

 “Is she dead, then?” He could always go to Necropolis and bring her back. It wasn’t a problem.

“Not that!” she snapped. “Why do vampires have to be such idiots? It’s all brawn and no brains!”

Delaroth sighed, every vampire who met the Oracle was by now used to her annoyance over them. It could not be helped.

“Look, when I say she’s not of this realm, I mean that she is of some other realm and no, it’s not Necropolis,” she added in irritation.

“Then where is she from?”

“You won’t like this, your highness,” she chuckled. She was definitely enjoying it.

He groaned. Not that place.

“The Human Realm, Delaroth,” she answered with a playful smile. 

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