Powerful oracle who keeps their prophecies to themselves, because it's the only way to be sure they can't come true.
Azeneth wakes just before dawn, panting heavily and covered in sweat. She does her best to push the visions of fire and death aside and get on with her day. She coaxes the embers of last night's fire back to life and digs through her bag for a handful of wild currants for breakfast. It's a cold, clear morning, good for hunting. There won't be too many more like it before winter sets in, and the biting cold drives the good prey north until spring. Azeneth reaches for her bow, then stops. She knows this, the feel of the sun, the pattern of the clouds, the taste of currant in her mouth. She knows what comes next, has seen it months ago. She lets out a tired sigh, and instead digs out more firewood. Fate, it seems, has decided today is a day for guests.
It is well past midday when the visitor finally arrives. Bundled in furs, they stride into the camp with purpose. There was once a time when Azeneth would have packed up and disappeared before any would-be petitioners could arrive, but she finds most are too persistent, requiring more pointed rejection.
"No." She says as soon as the stranger is in earshot, not even bothering to look up from the pan on the fire.
"You have not even heard me out, seer"
"I don't need to. I know what you want, and I won't give it to you." The stranger snarls and kicks the pan off the flame, scattering Azeneth's lunch across the dirt. She rolls her eyes and finally looks up.
"I am-"
"Derya, second princess of the Hundred Kingdoms of irin-Desh. Soon to be Empress, after the deaths of your father and elder sister...it would be two months ago now? You would have left as soon as you got the word. You want to know how to win your war against the Fifth Coalition. This is all very sad and I'm sure means a great deal to you. It is not, however, my problem. Go." The princess stands, stunned and fuming.
"My people die every day. The coalition's armies are bolstered by sorcerers, their magics turn battles into slaughters. You can see the future, I must know how to win this war."
"Then you should consult with your generals instead of trekking across the southern tundra to speak to a crazed hermit."
"Your prophecies have changed the course of history! You foretold the death of Marikel the Great and the fall of the Third Empire. You saw the great storm that still separates the Western Isles from the continent years before it began to form. You told my grandmother that she would be the one to unite the Hundred Kingdoms, and she did."
"Listen to me. I did not change history, I cemented it. Maybe things would have unfolded the same way if I had not shared those visions, but sharing them made their happening unavoidable. Countless people have died and even more suffered because I gave voice to these futures. I will not have more blood on my hands because of people like you. I have played the Great Game long enough, and I want no further part in it." Azeneth looks in her eyes and-
The blast knocks the empress from her horse, caving in her breastplate and sending her sprawling into the dirt. The thump-thump-thump of cannons is almost drowned out by the thunder of hooves as what's left of her bodyguard rallies around her. The enemy pikes press in as the sky fills with crackling green light. She's too late, the ritual is almost complete. Soon everything wi-
"-will not be treated like an ignorant child!" Derya is shouting as Azeneth crashes back to the present. She doubles over and loses what little contents she had in her stomach as the princess yelps and jumps out of the way. After resting her forehead on the cool dirt for a moment, she pushes herself back up and begins rifling through her bags. This is new, and deeply concerning. Magic is unstable and dangerous at the best of times, nothing good could possibly come from a ritual of that size. "What are you doing? Wait, you saw something, didn't you? You had a vision! What was it?"
"Shut up for a second." Nothing she has with her will help here. She's a seer, not an arcanist, and her own notes and journals will only take her so far. There's only one place to get what she needs. She stuffs everything back into her bag and starts kicking out her fire. "Make yourself useful; take everything out of my tent and take it down. I want to be moving within the hour"
"You're leaving? You-"
"Oh save it! You are going to take me to the royal archive of irin-Desh so I can figure out what I just saw, and if we're both very lucky, I'll be able to make sure it doesn't happen."