Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

by daOtterGuy

Oracle

Starswirl entered the Temple of Delphi, the doors sliding open to allow him entry, then shutting as he went through. The interior was a grandiose affair of marble and carved sunstone. He trotted along an ornate velvet carpet, noting the tacky steam baths filled by overhead waterfalls and the frankly obscene number of petals carpeting the place from imported sakura trees that he knew would have cost the temple a fortune to upkeep. It was, in Starswirl’s opinion, too over-the-top, and he resided within a literal ivory tower.

At the end of the carpet, there was a long, wooden table with two cushions on either side, the one furthest from him occupied by a hooded oracle of unknown tribe and appearance. Starswirl sat on the cushion opposite them.

“We see that the Archmage of Pearl has deigned to visit us,” the Oracle said, bemusement in his voice. “We also see that he likes to use his connections to cut the line.”

“My time is much more important than some common rabble about what frying pan to use,” Starswirl retorted.

“Yet they are some of the most amusing requests by how utterly stupid they are.” The Oracle tilted their head to one side. “What do you seek from the Oracle Phoebus?”

Starswirl snorted. “What an absurd name.”

“And yet, it is mine. We shall once more repeat, what do you seek from the Oracle Phoebus?”

“... I have seen visions of the future.”

“A most fortuitous occurrence from our great Apollo. Congratulations to you are in order for receiving such a miraculous gift.”

“Yes, truly great.” Starswirl rolled his eyes. “What a blessing it is to see my legacy destroyed before my very eyes by a purple menace.”

“Be careful of your words, Archmage,” Phoebus warned. “Your words may come off as an insult to our God.”

“And our God could have done me the favour of not showing me something I can do nothing about.”

“The visions do not agree with you?”

A grunt.

“Unfortunately, we are not in the business of fixing giftee’s remorse.” Phoebus chuckled at their own joke. “How do you expect us to assist you?”

“I know what oracles are capable of.”

“To see and guide—”

“Control,” Starswirl interrupted, his hooves on the table, his tone like a blunt hammer against a nail. “You can change the course of these events.”

A pause. “With your position and knowledge, we shall skip the prologue and move onto the main act.” Starswirl could feel the attitude of Phoebus shift from bemusement to seriousness. “What is it you wish for exactly? To sustain your legacy? Make it everlasting?”

“By any means possible,” Starsiwrl answered.

Another pause. “Any means?”

“I will not repeat myself.”

“And yet your statement does not tell us enough. What is ‘any’? Would you kill? Yourself, others? Would you be able to commit reprehensible acts against nature itself? Would you—”

Starswirl slammed his hooves on the table, drawing himself up to his full height, his eyes boring into Phoebus. “There is no line I will not cross to ensure my legacy!” He shouted. “Stop circling the point and tell me what. I. Must. Do.” He spat the last word, the resulting saliva impacting on the table just under the Oracle.

Phoebus pulled back their hood. The surprisingly youthful and handsome stallion stared back with a wide, toothy, malicious grin. He had golden fur with a lighter-coloured mane. His two eyes had shattered pupils resembling the starry night sky.

Starswirl found them uncomfortably similar to that of his mother.

“Very well then,” Phoebus said. “We will prepare for you six arrows. You will stab the targets we tell you to with these arrows, then teleport them to six different locations that we will provide. Once the deed is done, you will return here.”

“Who are the recipients?” Starswirl asked, unperturbed by the presumption of murder.

There was a spark in Phoebus’s eyes. Starswirl recognized it as madness. “Your disciples.”

“Prepare the arrows and locations by tonight and I will have it done by the morrow,” Starswirl replied.

Starswirl wondered if maybe he had that same spark in his.