"W… what are you doing!?"
There was nothing Rhys could really do – for so reason, the Oracle's kiss, sothing that he could have avoided without even thinking about it, managed to pass through his reflexes. He wasn't just making any excuses because the Oracle is incredibly beautiful, but he truly was not able to lean away or dodge in ti.
"Hmn… sweet." The Oracle's whispers escaped her lips as they parted from his, and for a brief mont, a thin string of saliva lingered between them, bridging their connection before snapping.
And for so reason, Rhys stood frozen, his body tense, as though the world had shifted ever so slightly beneath his feet. It was a weird feeling, nothing he had really ever experienced before—but if there was…
…then it would be his eting with Arachnea.
"Why…" Rhys's silver eyes locked onto the Oracle's face, searching for answers that he couldn't quite put into words.
Sothing about the kiss was... wrong. Not just because of the suddenness, or how intimate it had been—but because it stirred sothing deep inside him, sothing that gnawed at the edges of his mind.
Clio, who watched the entire kiss that lasted for several seconds, could no longer keep her silence.
"W-what are you doing?!" she nearly shouted, stepping forward, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of shock and anger. Her gaze darted between Rhys and the Oracle, confusion and jealousy swirling in her eyes. She had just shared her most intimate mont with Rhys earlier…
…and now sothing like this happens?
"What... what was that?!"
The Oracle, still standing close to Rhys, simply leaned away, her pale lips curving into a serene, almost amused smile. She blinked slowly, as if Clio's reaction was an afterthought—sothing to be expected, yet unimportant.
"Your lips remind of a distant mory I once had, Rhys Wilder." The Oracle didn't even spare Clio a glance as she lifted a hand to gently touch her lips, her fingers trailing along them as if savoring the mont.
"I..." Clio stamred, her fists clenched at her sides from being completely ignored. "I saw you in my visions. You—" her voice trembled slightly. "You were there, in this exact place. But you never—never did that!"
The Oracle finally turned to Clio then, her eyes half-lidded with an air of disinterest. "Your visions are your own," she said calmly, her voice soft but dismissive. "They do not concern ."
Clio flinched at the coldness in her tone, her brow furrowing. "What do you an? You were here! I saw it in my dreams! That has to an sothing! Weren't you… weren't you trying to call for ?" She took a step closer, trying to regain her composure.
"And… why did you kiss him? What are you doing?"
The Oracle tilted her head slightly, her gaze never wavering from Rhys. "How will I understand the aning of your dreams? They are your own," she said, her voice smooth and even, with no regard for Clio's mounting frustration.
"Like you have your own visions–I have mine. I am here for him. Not for you."
"For… Rhys?" Clio's mouth fell open in disbelief, her body trembling with a mixture of emotions—anger, confusion, and sothing more primal, sothing possessive. She took another step toward them, but Rhys raised a hand, stopping her.
"Enough," Rhys said quietly, his voice calm but firm. His senses were telling him that sothing more had passed between them than just physical contact.
But what?
"Enough…" He exhaled slowly, steadying himself. There was a reason they ca here, and he needed answers more than he needed to get caught up in whatever had just happened between him and the Oracle.
He looked directly at her, his silver eyes narrowing slightly as he gathered his thoughts.
"I'm looking for my father," he said, his voice steady but laced with a sharp edge of urgency. "Her Highness said that you may have an idea who… where he is? He should look a little like ."
"Father, hm?" The Oracle's expression shifted slightly, her disinterest fading as a glimr of sothing else—a deeper curiosity—sparked in her eyes. She regarded Rhys with a different kind of focus now, as though his words carried far more weight than any of the previous conversations.
"So, you ca here for your father..." she repeated softly, her voice lingering on the word as though testing its significance. For a brief mont, her gaze seed to darken, her ethereal calm replaced by sothing more profound. "Yes, I know of him."
"Then… do you know where he is?" Rhys demanded, his voice firm but still under control. "Please, Madam. Tell where I can find him."
"Well…" The Oracle paused, tilting her head as if teasing whether or not she actually knew sothing. Her smile returned, a faint and cryptic curve of her lips as she stepped closer to him once more.
"The path you walk will lead you to him," she replied, her tone soothing but maddeningly evasive. "But not yet. There are trials you must face first. Battles that will test your strength, your will."
Rhys's fists clenched at his sides, frustration simring beneath the surface. "What does that even an?" he said, his voice hardening. "Why do you people like talking so much in riddles?"
The Oracle's serene expression never faltered. She took another step back, as though distancing herself from the weight of his demands.
"All in due ti, Rhys Wilder. You are not ready for the truth," she said softly, the finality in her words palpable.
Clio, still standing to the side, her frustration growing, spoke up once more. "You can't just leave it at that," she snapped, her voice edged with anger. "If you know sothing, tell him! That's the least you can do after… after attacking him!"
The Oracle finally glanced back at Clio, her gaze colder than before. "Your words are irrelevant, Princess," she said curtly. "Your role in this is not as important as you think."
Clio's breath hitched, her frustration shifting into sothing deeper—sothing close to hurt. But before she could respond, the Oracle returned her full attention to Rhys, her eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light of the setting sun.
"But very well, I can tell you one thing—The sun is always watching," she murmured, her voice almost lodic, yet filled with sothing heavier. "And…
…so am I."
"!!!" Rhys instinctively looked up toward the sky as she said that, where the suns were beginning to set. For just a mont, he thought he saw sothing—a flicker, a shift in their light. But it was gone in an instant, leaving him with the faintest trace of unease.
Clio, anwhile, took a step closer to him, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Rhys, we can't trust her," she said softly, her eyes still narrowed at the Oracle's retreating form. "She's hiding sothing."
Before Rhys could respond, the Oracle stopped walking, her pale figure still partially visible in the fading sunlight. She slowly turned to face them, her gaze now sharper, more intense. Her smile was gone, replaced by a mask of calm authority.
"She has a na—I am Pythia," she said, her voice resonating with the weight of the title.
"High Priestess of Apollo."
"You…?" The na lingered in the air, heavy and ancient. Clio visibly tensed at the ntion of Apollo, her mouth opening as if to speak, but no words ca. She had heard of Pythia—the Oracle of the Sun—but never expected to be standing face-to-face with her.
Pythia turned her head slightly, her cold gaze now fixed on Clio, her earlier dismissal gone. "You whisper of distrust, but you forget that I am an Oracle. You can hide nothing from ."
Clio stiffened at the realization that her words had been heard. She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could speak, Pythia took a step toward her, her posture tall and imposing.
"I know what weighs on your mind, Princess of Calydon," Pythia said, her voice smooth yet cutting. "I know of your... arranged marriage to the prince of Thebes. The knot that ties you, unwilling, to the future of your kingdom."
Clio's eyes widened, her mouth falling slightly open in shock. "How... how do you know about that?" she stamred, stepping back. Her hands instinctively gripped the fabric of her dress as her mind scrambled for answers.
Pythia's lips curled into a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with a faint, predatory light. "Again… I am an Oracle," she said softly, with a hint of amusent, "I see what is, what was, and what will be."
Rhys remained silent, watching as Clio recoiled, the weight of Pythia's knowledge clearly unsettling her. Clio opened her mouth again, but Pythia continued before she could speak.
"But that is not all," Pythia added, her tone growing darker. "Thebes is not just seeking an alliance with Calydon. They are preparing for war."
Clio froze, her hands trembling at her sides. "War?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Pythia nodded slowly, her expression grave. "Thebes is planning to attack your city. You father…
…he has sothing that they want."
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