The Oracle of Falling Petals

They come to her cave every day, this place she had chosen for its cool, damp solitude. They come with their wet eyes and their pleading voices and smooth, sleek bodies and say

Please.

She has never been able to deny these corporal children; they are too enviable, even in their state of permanent confusion. She would trade her centuries of wisdom for their brief lives. Who is she to deny them hope or, at the least, knowledge, in their dazzlingly short existence?

Yes.

So she makes their decisions for them, and tells some version of their futures, and fades a little with each answer.

No. Yes. No. Yes. Yes.

She has contemplated moving many times. The cave is not as cool as it once was. Her petitioners bring in their hot breath and slake their thirsts on her spring. The tears they leave behind are salty and full of too much regret. She could simply retreat into the deeper caverns, where blind fish swim in circles and the stalactites ring with whispers. But. . . she longs to be needed, even as the heat and aridity of the children shrivels her.

Please. Please.

Some of the children press her hand and thank her. Some stand still, digesting the answer she has given. Others run without another word, unable to face what she has told them, or so happy with the news that they cannot wait to be a part of that future. There are a few who stay and beg for more explanation, but she has none for them.

Yes. No. No. No.

When she is truly frail, she tells herself, there will be no more prophecy, no more answers. She will limp to the darkest corner in the remote depths and wait for the desperate to crawl to her. She will listen to their entreaties and then. . . for just one. . . she will grant her only wish that she can grant, and blow away on the wind of their contented sigh.

Please.

But this is not that time. Though she aches at night, and each new form clambering into her cave makes her wince, it is not yet time. She straightens as the child holds his hands out to her and pleads.

Yes. She loves you.

No. She loves you not.