-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?".
Beaming back at me, she nods and stretches her hand out toward me.
"I am Agent Emily Waller, but you may call me Emily."
I shake her outstretched hand, and she grins sheepishly.
"The last six years of my life have been singularly devoted specifically to this subject of research, and I hope it's alright to be so forward, but I must say that I have so longed for this day."
As much as it terrifies me to think that my life warranted at least six years of top secret government research, I'm touched by her efforts and kindness. If I had been tasked to spend six years studying a stranger, I'd probably resent and grow tired of the assignment pretty early on. Like within a year. To then ultimately be relocated and sent to assist said stranger in service of some farfetched prophesy? I don't know that I would have it in me to be so gracious. That's a major commitment.
"I... well I don't know what to say, but thank you?"
"You're quite welcome, dear."
After a pause, I pass her a mug of steaming fresh coffee, and we sit across from one another around the wooden table.
"So you wished to meet with me privately? I'm surprised that Williams consented." She smiles, watching me curiously.
I nod in acknowledgment, trying to find the words to answer the real question. The one I'm sure she's secretly asking herself, but hesitant to voice aloud. If I were in her shoes, I would be wondering why I didn't want this meeting overheard, and if there is a good reason for excluding the others.
"If it's alright, since you probably know more about my.. situation.. than I do, I would love to ask you some questions and discuss some recent developments." I gulp, lowering my gaze to the table before me. "People here seem nice enough, but this is all so new and, well, there are still some things that I don't even know how to talk about yet. I'm not used to sharing this part of my life."
"Well of course you aren't," she smiles reassuringly, pushing her thin rectangular frames further up the bridge of her nose and fixing her warm brown eyes on mine, "You've lived your whole life with this secret. No one expects you to make such a big adjustment overnight."
"I also.. well I think one of the agents here is more involved in this than he knows. Have you come across any mention of my Guardian?"
Her eyes widen once more, eyebrows arching in response and rising with genuine surprise. "Does this mean you've located him? That he's one of us? He's CIA? Oh my. But this wasn't the way it was all meant to start.. This is rather unusual. Rather unusual, indeed."
"Yes." I squeak the response, growing frightened that things aren't going according to the Oracle's plan.
If my destiny was laid out in a prophesy, shouldn't this be the expected outcome? Did something alter destiny? Can something alter destiny?
"He should've told me," I whisper softly, more for my own benefit than hers, "If this wasn't the plan, he should've told me. I deserved to know."
Emily sits in silence for a moment, crinkling her nose and deep in thought. Concern and compassion are etched on her face as she tenderly places a hand on one of my own.
"Who should have told you?" Her tone is not at all demanding, and comes off as motherly and gentle. Although it baffles me, I find myself warming up to her, wanting to share everything with this woman.
As though the flood gates have opened, the words all come tumbling out. With her help, I find the courage to share every detail of my nightmarish reality. I recount my recent dreams of Teegan and Harlow, my origin, the Oracle, and even Kent. Spilling every relevant detail I can muster, I finally allow myself to let go. And it feels incredible.
The last few details pass through my lips, and an oppressive weight lifts off my shoulders. One look at her enamored face gives me hope. It fills me with a feeling of safety and openness that I've never felt before. Finally, I'm not in this alone.
I know that with our combined knowledge and resources, we can easily locate Teegan and Harlow. We just have to know what to look for. The prophesy supposedly says nothing of exactly how I locate them, but maybe my prior selves were more explicit? Maybe I left some breadcrumbs to follow.
Unknowingly addressing my silent musings, she gives me exactly the confirmation I need. Reaching into her bag, she pulls out a sketch, worn and faded with age, and preserved in a sealed plastic covering. I instantly zero in on the page as she slides it towards me, analyzing it with extreme reverence and care.
I drew this. The style is unmistakably mine, and a line of handwritten text scrawled along the top of the page confirms it further. Penned by my own hand, are words that I heard spoken aloud not so long ago: "Trust the sands.."
The scene below the writing is even eerier, revealing one of my recent, and very real, encounters with the Oracle.
"How..?"
"Your last incarnation. This was recovered and catalogued by our department. We have more, if you'd like to see them?"
"Yes. I would like to see them as soon as possible."
Nodding, she makes a note to schedule the viewing. My heart flutters and I feel a growing sense of anticipation, urging me to recover my past-life knowledge expediently. Reaching into my pocket to retrieve the folded papers that I poured over last night, I place them on the table before her.
"We will need to search for anything relating to these," I gesture to the captured memories, "as well as any other details my past selves may have recovered pertaining to my future. I learned last night that I have the ability to witness my own future, but only whilst in the heart of time's network. These will be the types of relics we must seek out."
She studies them intently, eager to absorb the new data at her disposal. It's likely been a long time since she's received so many new puzzle pieces to add to her files, and her professional excitement only enhances my confidence in her.
I'm on my way, sisters. I will reunite our family. I will find you, I swear.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Who's ready for a Trinity family reunion?
If you enjoyed the chapter, please comment and/or vote!!