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tr_ficTitle: By Their Own Follies They Perished; Book I, Chapter VI
Characters (this chapter): David Silva
Rating: PG-13
Words: 712
A/N: The next bit in the story. A/N continued at the end of the chapter =-)
Previous Parts:
Book I: Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Book I Chapter IV | Chapter V
Silva swallowed and entered the cave so that he would be out of the rain. Inside it was dark, but it was warm. He peered into the darkness, but his human eyes had yet to adjust and grasp the finer details of the interior.
“Do you know it is not appropriate to call a god by their name unless such permissions have otherwise been given?” Silva spoke, voice much stronger than he felt.
“I apologize sire,” the voice spoke from the darkness, Silva had yet to spot him. “But I have foreseen your visit so often in my head that I often forget that they have yet to pass. I apologize.”
“You’ve seen me come to you?” Silva asks, eyes adjusted at last. Sitting at the table in a wide expanse of space inside the cave, sat the Seer. A silvery cloak was wrapped around the Seer’s body, a hood over his face.
“It is my duty as an Oracle, is it not?” The Oracle finally stood and bowed to Silva. “I am at your service sire.”
Silva waved his hand, temporarily forgetting that the man was blind. When he remembered, he blushed but his voice did not betray that. “Rise.”
The Oracle stood and moved to another table where a stone basin lay filled with a clear substance that Silva could only assume was water. “Permission to speak freely?”
“Granted.” Silva hated these customs. Why couldn’t a person just speak?
“I know what you seek Silva, and I’m afraid the answer is not a pleasant one.” The Seer took a vial of a dark liquid from his cloak and poured it into the basin. To Silva’s amazement, the color of liquid did not change.
“So I do not win, then?”
“That’s not why you’ve come to me, do not pretend it is sire.” The Oracle reprimanded in a paternal voice that Silva felt was ironic; he had a few thousand years on the Seer, easy. “What you seek, sire, is here in this mortal mind. I will tell you, if you like, but I cannot be held responsible for what the future shows—no matter how unpleasant.”
Silva nodded and stepped forward as the Oracle sat at his table and put his palms flat on the wooden surface. Silva sat also and heard the man take a deep breath. Then in a voice most unlike his own, stronger and seemingly wiser, he began to speak.
“Thick as autumn leaves, or driving sand, the moving squadrons blacken all the strand. Be wary for what lies ahead, for what will happen, mortals know not the danger. Great pain and suffering will last, a decade which will once be past. Fate stands now upon the razor’s edge.”
“A dec-decade?” Silva stuttered before clearing his throat. He’d known something bad was bound to happen but ten years?
The Seer cleared his throat and left his place from where the future came. “Our choices we can make, but only the result is seen.”
Silva nodded, processing this information. “I thank you great Seer. You make the decisions we make now that much more important.”
“The Gods will last through all time, it is your fate.” The Seer stood. “It is your fascination with mortals that make you question your own worth.”
Silva stood and stepped in front of the Oracle as he began to drop herbal leaves into the stone basin. “Thank you Seer.”
The man bowed once more. “My duty is to serve Olympus.”
Silva nodded once more and turned for the head of the cave. Then he remembered something. “Is there anything I can do for you, Seer? You have given me much, but I am afraid I have yet to return the favor.”
The man smiled. “I knew you would ask me that Silva. I’m afraid the only answer I have been able to come up with is to ask of you to bring a warm breeze this way once in a while. It does get quite cold in the winter.”
Silva smiled. “I am most certain I can do that for you.”
“Thank you sire.”
Silva absolved his reply and then left in a warm breeze. He had a lot to think over and he knew just the place to do so.
A/N Continued {Behind The Scenes}
This whole scene never happened in the Iliad. I came up with this because I wanted Silva’s character to be the one who ‘felt’ more than the others in the later chapters. I wanted him to seem the most human and so therefore I gave him a bit more of a conscious concerning the events that come later.
The two lines italicized in the Oracle’s ‘prophecy’ are both lines from the actual Iliad and the first one is from book two and the last one about the razor’s edge is from book ten.
Also for those of you who wonder just who exactly the Oracle was: it was Pep. I see Pep as being wise and who would know what could happen and tell it with such a demeanor. So…I was shooting for Pep there.
And if you’ve read all this, thank you =-) I like sharing my notes.
Characters (this chapter): David Silva
Rating: PG-13
Words: 712
A/N: The next bit in the story. A/N continued at the end of the chapter =-)
Previous Parts:
Book I: Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Book I Chapter IV | Chapter V
Silva swallowed and entered the cave so that he would be out of the rain. Inside it was dark, but it was warm. He peered into the darkness, but his human eyes had yet to adjust and grasp the finer details of the interior.
“Do you know it is not appropriate to call a god by their name unless such permissions have otherwise been given?” Silva spoke, voice much stronger than he felt.
“I apologize sire,” the voice spoke from the darkness, Silva had yet to spot him. “But I have foreseen your visit so often in my head that I often forget that they have yet to pass. I apologize.”
“You’ve seen me come to you?” Silva asks, eyes adjusted at last. Sitting at the table in a wide expanse of space inside the cave, sat the Seer. A silvery cloak was wrapped around the Seer’s body, a hood over his face.
“It is my duty as an Oracle, is it not?” The Oracle finally stood and bowed to Silva. “I am at your service sire.”
Silva waved his hand, temporarily forgetting that the man was blind. When he remembered, he blushed but his voice did not betray that. “Rise.”
The Oracle stood and moved to another table where a stone basin lay filled with a clear substance that Silva could only assume was water. “Permission to speak freely?”
“Granted.” Silva hated these customs. Why couldn’t a person just speak?
“I know what you seek Silva, and I’m afraid the answer is not a pleasant one.” The Seer took a vial of a dark liquid from his cloak and poured it into the basin. To Silva’s amazement, the color of liquid did not change.
“So I do not win, then?”
“That’s not why you’ve come to me, do not pretend it is sire.” The Oracle reprimanded in a paternal voice that Silva felt was ironic; he had a few thousand years on the Seer, easy. “What you seek, sire, is here in this mortal mind. I will tell you, if you like, but I cannot be held responsible for what the future shows—no matter how unpleasant.”
Silva nodded and stepped forward as the Oracle sat at his table and put his palms flat on the wooden surface. Silva sat also and heard the man take a deep breath. Then in a voice most unlike his own, stronger and seemingly wiser, he began to speak.
“Thick as autumn leaves, or driving sand, the moving squadrons blacken all the strand. Be wary for what lies ahead, for what will happen, mortals know not the danger. Great pain and suffering will last, a decade which will once be past. Fate stands now upon the razor’s edge.”
“A dec-decade?” Silva stuttered before clearing his throat. He’d known something bad was bound to happen but ten years?
The Seer cleared his throat and left his place from where the future came. “Our choices we can make, but only the result is seen.”
Silva nodded, processing this information. “I thank you great Seer. You make the decisions we make now that much more important.”
“The Gods will last through all time, it is your fate.” The Seer stood. “It is your fascination with mortals that make you question your own worth.”
Silva stood and stepped in front of the Oracle as he began to drop herbal leaves into the stone basin. “Thank you Seer.”
The man bowed once more. “My duty is to serve Olympus.”
Silva nodded once more and turned for the head of the cave. Then he remembered something. “Is there anything I can do for you, Seer? You have given me much, but I am afraid I have yet to return the favor.”
The man smiled. “I knew you would ask me that Silva. I’m afraid the only answer I have been able to come up with is to ask of you to bring a warm breeze this way once in a while. It does get quite cold in the winter.”
Silva smiled. “I am most certain I can do that for you.”
“Thank you sire.”
Silva absolved his reply and then left in a warm breeze. He had a lot to think over and he knew just the place to do so.
A/N Continued {Behind The Scenes}
This whole scene never happened in the Iliad. I came up with this because I wanted Silva’s character to be the one who ‘felt’ more than the others in the later chapters. I wanted him to seem the most human and so therefore I gave him a bit more of a conscious concerning the events that come later.
The two lines italicized in the Oracle’s ‘prophecy’ are both lines from the actual Iliad and the first one is from book two and the last one about the razor’s edge is from book ten.
Also for those of you who wonder just who exactly the Oracle was: it was Pep. I see Pep as being wise and who would know what could happen and tell it with such a demeanor. So…I was shooting for Pep there.
And if you’ve read all this, thank you =-) I like sharing my notes.
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