Gazing down over our magnificent island, I smiled to myself. Our family was growing. My eyes drank in the scene below: the still beaches where the ocean gently lapped at the shore, the lighthouse on the coast—Sofia’s and my sacred space, its proud structure still weathering every storm—the Vale, safe and humming with its human residents, the meadows and fields that provided us with ample agricultural land, and the redwoods that scattered the island, their mighty branches gently swaying in the wind.
We had worked hard to make The Shade what it was today: a safe haven for all, regardless of species.
A movement caught my eye, disrupting my reverie. I turned toward a low rockery, part concealed on the north-facing mountain range.
“Who goes there?” I questioned.
I received no reply, but a few moments later, a figure with a cascade of white-blond hair stepped into view. It was the Oracle. She clambered up to where I stood, and I waited patiently for her to explain what she was doing up here – while admiring her ability to maneuver herself across the rocks when she lacked ‘normal’ vision.
“Forgive me for the intrusion.” She sighed. “I’ve been coming up here to think. It’s become a habit, I suppose.”
I nodded. Having spent her entire life on the mountain range by the Dauoa forest, it didn’t surprise me that this was where she would feel most at home.
“You’re not bothering anyone,” I replied simply. I had grown to respect the Oracle, despite her awkward ways—we had one thing in common at least: a desire to walk and brood.
“I’m glad I found you here,” she continued, her voice lilting and soft. “There are some things I wish to discuss with you… things I’m not quite sure I understand myself.”
I nodded. “About your past?”
The Oracle had been vague on the matter of her childhood, and what her life had been like before she’d been sent to Nevertide. There were things she could remember of the jinni clan that her father hailed from, like the making of the stones, but other parts remained hazy. At first I had assumed it was her own desire to remain secretive, but as time had gone on, I started to believe that she’d had certain parts of her memory wiped, perhaps by her parents. Still, that was a far-fetched hypothesis. To wipe part of the memory of an Oracle would have taken a great power indeed.
She nodded slowly, turning in the direction of the island. “I have been having strange dreams. Recalling the faces of my parents. Places that in the past I may have been, but I do not recall them, and I do not know where they are.”
She looked sad, wistful, almost. As if she wished that those dreams were real.
“Do you think the dreams are trying to tell you something?” I prompted; the Oracle had a habit of beginning to say something and then drifting off somewhere else—perhaps seeing things that were to come, or had been.
“There is one warning in the dreams. That I must never leave Nevertide. They, my parents, never say why… they just keep repeating the same warning, over and over again.”
“Do you wish to return?” I asked.
She looked down, closing her eyes for a moment. The shadows that flickered across her skin became darker and more insistent, their rapid movements suggesting her inner turmoil at such a question.
“I don’t know!” she burst out suddenly. “I don’t think I do. As much as my parents warn me of danger, another world calls to me—the world that contains the places in my dreams. Some are beautiful; magical lands that I wish to see, places I have never before witnessed in my visions of the future. I am tired of being so alone.” She hesitated, her thin hand fluttering over her collarbone. “It is hard being someone who sees, but doesn’t see. I witness all the great things that the worlds have to offer, and yet I can never take part in them myself… I hope that those who come after me won’t suffer the same fate.”
“Those who come after you?” I questioned.
She waved her hand dismissively.
“Not for a long time,” she added.
I understood her plight. I knew what it was like to feel cut off from the world. If I hadn’t met Sofia, I would be no different—still trying to chase what was human in me, what connected me to others, but getting nowhere. Forever lost in the dark.
“Your parents left you in Nevertide a long time ago,” I said. “Perhaps they were afraid their families would try to destroy you. But it has been many, many years. The Ancients are no longer; the dangers may well have passed. If you do wish to explore the other dimensions—Earth, the In-Between or the rest of the supernatural world—know that you have a place of safety here.”