Aranince stopped midsentance and Medea frowned at her briefly before recognising the signs of her elven gift of foresight showing her something. After a few minutes, the vision faded and Aranince relaxed.
"What did you see?" Medea asked.
Aranince caught her eyes and hesitated.
"Well?"
"I saw a girl with two flaming swords," Aranince replied, and holding her gaze, "She killed you."
Medea stiffened briefly, then glared at her.
"Impossible!" she declared. "I can't die."
Aranince shrugged.
"Well, unless you can survive a beheading..."
Medea's hand went to her throat. In one swift move she'd retreated into her library and pulled out a slim, dusty volume. Aranince followed without the same speed and when she arrived in the libary she noted Medea flipping through the pages. She evidently found the page she was after, for she took a minute to read it. Her face went white.
"What is it?" Aranince asked.
Medea said nothing, but handed her the book, and Aranince read:
Mothered by her father
Fathered by her mother
Of Light, of Dark
Wise changeling
Free of psychic bonds
Twin blades aflame
Night stalker
From this one fear, Medea
For in her hands lies your death, Medea
With twin swords shall your head be severed, Medea
Nevermore to plague this land, Medea
"A prophecy predicting your death?"
"The first half describes my would-be murderer."
"Rather vague. What does it mean?"
"Like all prophecies it makes no sense until after it's occured," Medea snarled. "Oh yes, by then you'll all be wondering why you didn't understand it before."
"But you've clearly had it in your possesion for centuries," Aranince pointed out. "Surely you -"
"Don't presume to tell me what I should know! I killed the messenger who gave me this but the damage was already done. I was given the prophecy to taunt me, but I was never intended to understand it - or only understand it at the last moment."
She closed her eyes and looked away.
"The time is coming," she said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.