The Dancing Oracle

Stepping through the beaded curtain felt just like so many times before. Year after year, the young knight searched, in hopes of finding what he so desperately desired. Sir Baz had never in all his days come across such an odd place as this, however. Carved into the mouth of a cave,  this fortune teller’s shop looked to be more authentic than the numerous crocks and scams Baz had come across over the years.

A stream of silky cloth of all hues and patterns descended from the crags in the cave’s ceiling not far ahead of him. The stone walls stood bare save for a few ornate lanterns; however, the floor was adorned with what looked to be only the finest rugs and carpets. Each was different in its own stunning way. One was the richest blue with images of the heavens stitched into the weavings in an intricate array of silver threads. The stars seemed to dance and twinkle in the lamplight. Another overlapped the constellations in a show of vibrant reds and yellows that came together to form tantalizing displays of exotic flowers.

The knight could very well have studied the exuberant textiles for as long as the lamplight would allow if not for the light sound of bare feet padding across the cave floor just then. Baz looked up just as the silky folds ahead of him parted ever so slightly. The figure who stepped through it stunned Baz even as she stood in the shadows. The woman stepped into the warm shine of the lamp. He stood, mouth agape, taking in the image of the woman as she drew closer. 

Dark eyes glowed the color of honey as the woman’s chin lifted to meet Baz’s gaze. Without batting an eye, those same brown eyes took him in with nonchalant confidence. She looked over his tousled brunette hair and slowly her gaze traveled downward, taking in Baz’s armor. He felt a rush of honeyglow flush his face and hoped fervently that the lovely woman before him wouldn’t notice. Baz could hardly help himself from looking the woman up and down in return, however, which only made the blush in his cheek bloom with more lumosity.

A soft pink veil covered the lower part of the woman’s face from her nose down. The same delicate pink hung from her hips in a billowing skirt that swayed when she walked. A simple top cut from a slightly darker pink mesh covered just enough of the woman to allow a wide range of movement without revealing too much. Baz watched as her hips swung from side to side. It made the woman’s bare waist move in a way smooth enough to accentuate the creaminess of her skin.

The woman walked in such a way that her feet could hardly be heard meeting the carpeted floor. The only indication of her movement was the faint tinkling sound created by the coined belt she wore. She circled Baz as she took him in from every angle. The rhythmic sway of her hips created a titillating sensation in him as he watched her closely. She stopped short, inches away from the knight’s face. Her eyes crinkled mischievously, betraying an unseen smile.

Baz could feel himself drawing closer to the woman’s alluring eyes. He jumped back, startled as the gypsy woman fluidly moved back from him and waved her bare arms in the air in a display of entrancing showmanship.

“Welcome to the Oracle's Lair!” her voice sounded. It bounced airily off of the cave’s stone walls. “I,” she began again, pausing to look into Baz’s eyes, “am your guide today through the mystic arts. Some call me savior, while others curse my name. There have even been a select few that have deemed me a temptress,” she said with a wink. “I prefer to be called a master of the mystical or more commonly, Madame Lita. The title of Madame comes with the job so let’s skip the skeptical glances, shall we?”

Before Baz could respond, the jingling of Lita’s belt sounded once more as the lively woman spun, arms out, gesturing to the satin curtain at her back. Her warm voice beckoned. “Your fate awaits,” Lita said as she reached to part the curtain once more. Armor clanging masked the sound of Baz’s heavy breathing as he stepped deeper into the cave. The smell of citrus and lavender wafted toward him as the young man passed by the beautiful gypsy and into the next room.

Baz soon was overtaken with colors and oddities of all shades and sizes. A small table sat in the center of the room with nothing but a lacy circlet on the surface of the polished oak. The walls, unlike those in the last room, were adorned with tapestries depicting scenes from long forgotten myths; heroes battled foes like the wind and earth, maidens danced through the trees on streams of sunlight. The carpets outside couldn’t begin to compare to the intricacy of the art that surrounded Baz just then. He marveled at the unique world he had stepped into. One particular aspect of the room stood out above the rest.

“No crystal ball?” Baz inquired aloud. He could have sworn he saw Lita startle at the sound of his voice but when he directed his gaze back to her, she stood as composed as ever. 

“I told you, there is no room for skepticism in this shop and crystal balls are the biggest hoax you’ll ever find. I provide answers a little differently than others in my trade,” she said with a light laugh. “Not to mention, Madame Lita is an oracle, not some novelty fortune teller.” She said the last bit with an unmistakable note of disdain to it.

Baz smiled inwardly at that lilting voice of hers. Even with that annoyed tone to it, Lita’s voice reminded Baz of chimes, caught in the breeze.

“Take a seat.” She placed her hands against his breastplate and firmly pushed Baz into the chair on one side of the table. “Now,” she spoke, stalking around the table, “what is it you wish to know? Your future? Your past? Your destiny?”

Clearing his throat, Baz answered in an unwavering tone, “I know all of those things already.”

“Then why have you come?” 

He couldn’t be sure, but Baz thought he heard a hint of panic beneath Lita’s laid back demeanor. Nonetheless, Baz continued, revealing more of why he had truly come. “I seek love,” he said simply, “And I had it. She was more beautiful than the stars, more elegant than moonlight on the water. She was a dancer though she only danced to the sound of her own stunning voice. Her body would move with every word she uttered, as if mind and body were caught in an ancient dance, unfolding bit by bit. We became acquainted on a warm night at a festival celebrating the last lunar eclipse. This was nearly seven years ago.”

Lita had come to a stop across the table from Baz. She wouldn’t meet his gaze as he continued to relay his tale of love and loss. The knight continued speaking through the pain that shone in his eyes, “I spent my nights, from moonrise to moonset watching the way she moved, sweet and smooth like a stream of honey flowing from the heavens. She captivated me. My delicate dancer and I fell deeply for one another. Every waking moment, I vied to bring her whatever her heart desired. If she had wanted the moon, I would have found a way to pull it from the sky. If she had asked me for the stars, I would have found a way to put the heavens in her palm.”

Baz silently rose from his chair and went to stand in front of Lita as her gaze bore into the floor. He whispered quietly, “If she had begged for a kiss, I would have obliged with such passion, that she may never have grown lonely again.”

Her eyes sheepishly lifted and peered through her long lashes to meet his, gently gazing down upon her. “What happened next?” her voice, not nearly as brazen as it had been moments before, caused the veil over her mouth to ripple.

A small smile riddled with a melancholy shadow settled upon Baz’s face. “I lost her. She was discovered to have a special gift. I saw it as beautiful, the same as its wielder. Others, however, feared my dancer.”

“What could she do?” Again came that meek voice out of such a seemingly confident woman.

Baz lifted his hand as if to touch Lita’s face then perhaps thought better of it. “She had the power of prophecy. When she danced, premonitions would dance with her, painting images in the air around her. Many were of lovely futures but many displayed dastardly fates. I awoke one day to her absence. She had left me a note saying that I could not accompany her into the next stage of her life; that I could become something without her and that she would merely be a weight tying me to her and those who would seek to exact hateful ambitions on her because of the gift she had been given. I decided then that I could not rest until I had my dancer back in my arms. I have searched every corner of the world for her and here is where I find myself now.”

“Baz,” Lita said, sorrowful tears in her eyes.

“Lita,” he responded, wrapping her in his arms.

“Nothing has changed,” she said, holding back tears as she pushed away. “I can only bring you hardship.”

Baz’s soft expression didn’t change as he took her hand gently and uttered one word, “Dance.”

Understanding glinted in Lita’s eyes as the knight stepped back to allow her room. The woman lifted her arms above her head as her eyes slipped closed. Lita’s belt created a steady rhythm as her feet took her slowly around the table. 

Clink.

Arms floated as if moved by the tide.

Clink.

Hips swayed, smoother than the night air.

Clink. 

Hypnotic movements.

Clink.

 Calm chaos.

The tempo picked up. The tip of her toe traced an invisible crescent on the floor as her skirt flared, lapping against her legs as if caught in the rhythm as well. Lita fell into the dance, giving herself to it, as if a willing sacrifice to its shapeless beauty. She spun, hair slipping off of her bare shoulders. She swooped with an arching form, powerful as the wind. 

Baz watched, entranced. The air seemed to shimmer in anticipation. Suddenly, it erupted in color; all the while Lita’s dance became more and more intricate. Shapes formed in the air above her; a man, Baz. He was dressed in . He stood in a field of wildflowers. Pink rose petals filled the air in a turbulent wind. As they fell, Lita was all that remained standing in front of Baz, dressed in a stunning dress, pink as dusk. 

They ran to meet each other, falling to the ground in a jubilant embrace just as the sky melted from day to night, switching from one to the other with increasing speed. The stars blurred into the blue of the sky and still, the two remained, tangled up together in the wildflowers. 

As the image dissipated, Lita’s dancing came to a slow stop. She breathed deeply but her expression had changed from somber to joyful. Her face shone with happiness and a wide grin was revealed as she dropped the veil from her face. Baz took in her sunset smile with a grin of his own.

 “I missed this,” she said, breathlessly. “I missed us.”

Without a thought, Baz ran up and wrapped Lita in his arms. A laugh of surprise was drawn from her lips as she gave into him. 

He whispered into her ear, “I could never be better off without you.”

The End.