WT2: Scylla and Charybdis Picture

It is said that of the humans, only an oracle may truly understand the intentions of the gods.

This, I learned, isn't entirely true. Fact is, any sensible person can figure out damn well what those pricks are thinking.

Still though. Here I am. Oracle. The limp wise woman by the strait, by the two rocks that conceal the two dangers that root their forms in hardened crags.

It was pretty.... amazing. Scary. I hated it, but it was intriguing. All I had to do was cover my ears and watch the writhing shape of monster and man, one devouring the other, watching from the side of the six-headed beast.

On the other hand, the black whirlpool did considerably more damage. Have to say, though.... It's much less morbid to watch sailors sink than sever limbs attempting to escape the true 'jaws'.

It was difficult to try my luck. What could I bring back?

I walked under the crags, on a thin sliver of land out of reach, the sea lapping only so much in the daytime.

I watched as pictures floated by, playing through my head in a misty haze. This was what being an oracle was all about, apparently. I wasn't blind, though I appeared to be; I simply saw what others could not.

I walked, watching heroic sailors and warriors gliding across the dream-river, snake necks slithering down. Other times, there would be a spitting black, a whirling tempest. It was.... pretty. Black and water mixing like paint on a canvas.

And red, for blood.

I watched the colors, hit my foot against something. Bad enough I had to walk without my cane, now a stupid rock- wait.

Hah. Not a stupid rock.

I picked it up, feeling the smoothness, formed fully by the raging waters till ivory white.

Nice. Made me feel like a little Hamlet once I got home to my books.

Wonder if Georgie appreciates old warrior.


Is it obvious that I got all that finished in three hours? XD

Seriously. I forgot the deadline, and I had an inspiration rush.

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