The towers of the old Oracle building were so tall that sometimes when Mira woke up she could see nothing but clouds. The ministers had always told her that the height of the towers was deliberate, that they were designed to offer all the Visions time to become still and reflective on their descent to the ritual chamber, but Mira knew that the real reason was to stop thieves breaking in and stealing her and the other Visions in the night. It also made it much more difficult for a Vision to escape.
The Oracle building was staggeringly tall and comprised a complex network of chambers, halls and smaller rooms, but Mira only knew her tower in the east where she lived, the ritual chamber where the rituals were held, and the minister's shadow room where Mira would deliver her visions to the ministers. Mira also loved the gardens, but her time there had become limited since she'd come of age for the rituals.
Mira had been born into the life of a Vision and had never known anything else. Her mother had been a Vision and had passed on the gift on to her through birth. Mira's mother, Lara, had been such a powerful Vision that she was considered unsafe in the Oracle building and had been moved to a secret location when Mira was a teenager. Mira knew the ministers wanted her mother to produce more female offspring in the hope that they might also be powerful Visions, but Lara only had one child, to their immense disappointment. Mira grew up with a sharp eye and even sharper ears, always taking in as much information as possible while retaining a look of naivety. The men in charge of the Oracle talked louder than they realised, and Mira knew many of the truths they thought they'd kept hidden - the money, the politics, the deals made behind thick iron doors in the middle of the night.
Of the four Visions who lived in the towers, Mira was the most powerful and she knew she couldn't afford to let the ministers know this, so she'd found ways to dampen her visions and protect herself. Whenever she heard the tower bell ring at the arrival of a pilgrim, she would slide out of bed and slip quietly into her washroom. In a small bottle labelled 'lemon water' she kept a tincture of merle berries, which she would quickly drop onto her tongue before her maid arrived to prepare her for the ritual. Sliding back into her bed she would feel the berries washing over her, dulling her mind while heightening her senses. The sheets would feel extra soft and cool, her head seemed to sink eternally into the pillow... As long as she could conceal this state until the ritual wine had been administered, nobody would ever know she was dampening her visions. She'd been doing this ever since her first ritual at the age of 18, on the advice of her first maid, Asha, whom she had loved like a mother. Lara had given Mira the gift of the visions, but Asha had taught Mira everything she knew about keeping herself safe in ways Lara hadn't been able to. When Lara left the island, Asha had promised to take care of Mira, but she also made sure Mira had the wisdom she needed to take care of herself, right up until the day she too had been forced to leave the island, in a political trade between the Oracle and the south.
In the Oracle building the sound of the tower bell rang in the distance, so faint that nobody but Mira heard it. She had been lost in dreams of the world beyond the island when the low tone cut through her sleep like a knife, warning her to prepare herself. She silently crept into her washroom, put a couple of drops of merle on her tongue, and slipped back into her bed. If she wasn't requested for the vision ritual she would quietly wait out the effects of the merle over the morning, with her head buried in a book.
Mira's door opened in the dark of the early morning, firelight flooding the room. Mira looked up and saw Lisha, her new maid, placing the torch in its holder and moving towards the bed. Kneeling down, Lisha gently shook Mira from her performance of sleep.
'Mira, you've been summoned to the ritual chamber, we need to get ready', whispered Lisha gently.
'Mmmhmm', Mira mumbled sleepily, pulling back her thick fluffy bed cover.
The two women moved through the preparations at a steady pace, each one familiar with the routine and requirements for the ritual. Lisha had only been with Mira for a few months, but she'd learnt fast. Mira was bathed and cleaned from head to toe, perfumed oils rubbed into her skin, and her long hair. She could feel the merle like a gentle fog in her mind, but to anyone else she only looked a little preoccupied, which wasn't unusual for a Vision before a ritual. After being dressed in her ritual gown, long pale blue fabric that skimmed the gentle curves of her breasts and buttocks, she was escorted by Lisha down the tower stairs to the ritual hall.
In the ritual hall Mira was met by a familiar sight. Three ministers in long dark red robes and black masks waited at the altar. Their faces were hidden behind contorted shapes of mouths and black mesh concealing their eyes. It was said the masks represented the transition of the Vision from the world of the living to the world of visions and premonitions, but Mira knew that the truth was more pragmatic. If anything went wrong during the ritual, nobody could be held specifically accountable if their identity remained hidden.
Despite her familiarity with the ritual, Mira trembled as she walked towards the ministers, her slender figure dwarfed by the enormous underground cavern. She knelt on the steps of the altar and the first minister tilted her head back and administered the ceremonial wine. She closed her eyes and drank it quickly, feeling the warmth rushing through her body and stilling her trembling limbs. The wine was said to be symbolic of the blood of her monthly cycle, but Mira suspected it was to quieten her nerves and she accepted it gladly. She ascended the steps to the altar and walked to the base, where the second and third ministers removed her robe and lifted her up onto the altar, pulling her wrists and ankles to the corners of the stone table. The altar was carved wider at the base in order to expose the Vision to the pilgrim. Mira felt the wine and merle swirling through her mind and offered no resistance to the ministers strong hands. Stiff ropes were fed through carved holes in the corners of the table, then wrapped tightly around her wrists and ankles as she was restrained with her legs wide apart.
Mira's heart was pounding but she tried desperately to remain calm. Mira knew a well kept secret - that fear could intensify a Visions premonitions. Mira's visions were already powerful, detailed and impossibly accurate; fear was a luxury Mira couldn't afford. She tried to stay as calm as possible, but for some reason she was struggling to focus. She watched the ministers moving around the hall, subtly trying to work out who was under each mask. Mira felt the hands of the third minster on her face, moving her head as he sealed her eyes and mouth with cloth and rope. She was told it was to ensure her soul is kept safe within her body, but she knew that a Vision would move more quickly into the world yet to be known if she couldn't distract herself with the sights of the present. Being unable to speak prevented her from crying out what she had seen directly to the pilgrim who was there to learn his future. This priceless knowledge was always passed on to the pilgrims through one of the ministers in the evening.
Mira heard the iron door open and took a slow, deep breath in and out - nothing could stop what was about to take place but she couldn't afford to let fear get the better of her. Some pilgrims knew of the effect of fear in the rituals, although most were blessedly ignorant. This man seemed not only knowing but familiar; she recognised the way he dragged his hands across her body, it felt faintly menacing. He pinched her nipples hard and watched her flinch in pain. Most pilgrims were respectful and reverent of her abilities, but this man was taunting her. He pulled one finger roughly down her breastbone, over her stomach and rested it on her pubic bone briefly, before digging his nail hard into the flesh above her clitoris. Mira felt the visions begin to stir and let out a low moan. She knew exactly who this was and she couldn't contain her terror - this was Marlow, commander of the army in the south and a violent man. The visions that came for him were bloody and violent. This was his third time here and he'd always demanded to see Mira.
Marlow mounted the table and pressed his dense weight down against Mira's body, gripping her face in his calloused hands.
'I want to know exactly what the next battle has in store for me, little whore, so when I fuck you, don't fight the visions. Look as closely as you can and tell me everything exactly as you saw it. That's an order', he growled before biting the base of her neck hard.
