[b]Smoke and screams filled the air in equal measure, and despite the darkness of the night, a blinding light was emited from the inferno below.[/b] At first the Oracle believed himself to be in one of the hells that barbarians believed sinners were condemned to. After a moment, however, he saw the Spire, shinning bright from Eyrn's light. Around it stood Menderyn, the Lady's City, which had stood for ten thousand years, yet now burned. The cries he heard were of the townsfolk, being hunted down and killed, or worse yet, taken alive. The great bells of the Cathedral rang out desperately, as if to cry for aid from any who would hear. 

He could also see the Knights of the Tower. He watched as they were overwhelmed on the walls, how they still fought a retreat and cut their way to the Spire, where they made one last stand. They fought bravely, they fought valiantly, they fought like men possessed, yet they were only men, and one by one they died, until their order was wiped away. The Iron Gates halted the advance of the Enemy for a moment, but they brought forth in short order mages who tore the barrier apart, and then they swarmed into the holy tower, defiling it with their presence and slaying any who were within. He watched in horror and agony as Eyrn's light was extinguished, and all hope within him was lost. 
The Spire, which had stood since before time was recorded, began to sway, and the base cracked and collapsed, causing a thunder which could be heard half a continent away. The Spire fell, slowly at first, yet gaining momentum, it crashed into the flaming ruins of Mendeyrn. The resulting shock wave smashed the rest of the city, and he knew that none inside the city, his people or not, had survived. 

With a start, the Oracle awoke, screaming, his heart beating faster than it had in years. After a moment he composed himself, his head in agony as it always was when he felt the Lady's touch. He knew that this was no ordinary dream. His connection to Eyrn allowed him to see what visions she received concerning the past, present and future, and there was no doubt in him concerning this: she had foreseen her own death... and the end of the world.

When the pain ceased, he rose from his bed and dressed, despite the early hour- though his blindness prevented him from looking out the window, he knew by the silence that it was still dark. He didn't worry of having caused a commotion by his rude awakening. Those servants within the Spire were used to these kinds of disturbances, and in any case the entire floor was reserved for his use, as befitted his post. Descending the stairs at his inhuman age was a lesson in agony, but one he was quite familiar with, and he had no time for the weakness of the body. When he reached the floor below, he opened the door weakly, barely able to move.

"Summon the Knight-Commander", he managed to gasp out at the stunned Knights standing guard at the library. He heard one of them hurry down the stairs to fetch Sir Rillian, while the other carried him to a comfortable chair. He knew exactly which chair he was sitting on, as he had come here so often when he still had sight that he had memorized every corner of it. It was the greatest library of its kind in the world, apart from those of the great magocracies of the Diadochi. He often came here for this very reason, after having received a vision from Eyrn, trying to determine whether whatever ill fate he had perceived could be prevented. [i]Perhaps there is still hope,[/i] he thought. [i]Perhaps the Lady showed me this to prevent this cataclysm from occuring.[/i]

"What is it?" he heard the voice of the Knight Commander ask, audibly tired, "have you had a vision from the Lady?"

"Alas," he murmured, and told Sir Rillian of what he had seen. 

"Is this certain? Can it prevented?" the commander asked. Though he was a good man and loyal, his relatively young age- Only thirty-eight- meant that he had little experience in matters beyond warfare. The Oracle missed the old Knight-Commander, a friend of his and a wiser man than most other men of war, yet the Lady had chosen Sir Rillian as the Knight most capable of leading her armies, and so it was not his place to judge.

"It may," the Oracle answered, raising his head. "We must try."