Painting It Red (The Oracle Series - Book One)

Chapter 10: Trust The Sands

-Nora-

"You are my child, but I am not your father. I birthed your power and gave it purpose. I created your destiny, and wrote it in the stars for all to see. I am your creator, you master, your guide. You and your sisters are not truly of the human world, and yet, you are. Some call me Oracle, some call me Destiny, but it has been many years since I have truly filled either role. I am ageless, yet aged. As are you, my child of circumstance."

    I've read it and re-read it over and over again for the entirety of the last hour. I've gone over every second of the encounter we shared, but have gotten virtually nowhere in my efforts to make sense of the infuriatingly vague words. If his aim was to confuse me, then he has succeeded with gusto.

Unfortunately, something tells me that he intended the opposite effect. I wonder if my previous incarnations had this much trouble understanding his cryptic use of language.

    I got my first training session out of the way early this morning, using the cardio as an outlet for my many frustrations. After last night's disastrous dream, I snuck out of Pablo's house and opted to head here at first light, hoping to avoid running into a certain someone. Training ahead of schedule with a stand-in allowed me more time to prepare for today's meeting, and also came with the added bonus of dodging Kent for a short while longer.

    I haven't had enough time to fathom my recent findings, and the embarrassment of last night's rejection still stings. Even just one of those factors would be enough to give me cause to avoid him, but with the two combined I viscerally dread the moment I have to see him again.

Director Williams has kindly agreed to my request that I meet privately, at first, with the supernatural division member. It defies protocol, but I did my best to explain the urgency with which I need this and it paid off. If I am to bare my soul, I need to do it in a way that I feel comfortable with.

Not really knowing what to expect, I exit the gym's locker room, having already showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes. The walk to the designated private meeting room isn't far, and I may even arrive before my new acquaintance.

The first thing that comes to mind as I walk through the door is how much nicer this setting is than the cold, empty interrogation room I once spent the day in. The room is clean, yet comfortable, with a central oval-shaped polished oak table and a set of cushioned gray desk chairs. A simple coffee maker sits on a small rectangular table along the back wall, beside a collection of white ceramic mugs. Someone has even had the forethought to lay out cream, sugar, spare filters, and an array of coffees and teas to choose from.

I'll have to remember to find and thank the kind soul responsible, as I fully intend to take advantage of their gesture. After I begin brewing a fresh pot, I hear the door creak open tentatively. At the pitter-patter of clicking heels, I turn to greet the new arrival, but she beats me to the punch.

"Ms. Santori? It's an honor to finally meet you, Mistress of Time."

    She seems to truly mean it-- her wide brown eyes are brimming with such hope and awe that I am slightly taken aback at the greeting. Not to mention the nickname. Mistress of time?

"Uh, erm, thank you, ma'am. I hope I can live up to your expectations."

I try to give her my best genuine calm smile, but I can tell that my shock still sneaks its way into my expression. Not knowing what else to say, I gesture to the coffee machine and muster up an unimpressive, "So.. coffee?".