[b]Feb 13, 1874 Auburn, New York[/b]

Harriet came awake in a start, around her a tight dark room filled with wide eyes. They awaited her words, words which had come too late to save Philidelphia, to save her dearest Fredrick. In the Oracle's mind shards of the vision passed like cannon shrapnel through her skull bringing pain with it, tugging at her nerves like a pupeteer at an unruly marionette. Lee, the savior of the South, she could see his statue, emblazoned in bronze. It reflected fires, a city burning... no not a city, but crosses... burning crosses... the Klan.... The screams oh Lord the screams. And watching it all from squinty eyes, Satan, taking the guise he so often did in her visions, a horned serpent with the twisted rack of a stag and the sinuous contours of a rattlesnake. The demon watched the carnage as it coiled about great bronze Lee's legs, tongue flicking in pleasure as if tasting the burnt flesh on the winds. She steeled herself against the pain, grown'in up a slave had taught her that much. 

When her wincing eyes open they were placid, calm, no hint of the horror she had beheld to disturb her flock. She reached along her bed and found Nelson's hand where she knew it'd be, but she kept her eyes on the room, on her soldiers, her friends, her family. On faces hollowed and scarred by ten years of war and want. Phrasing her words as delicately as she could she told them the truth, "Richmond will be next... And if we don't save them, we will all fall and the future... will belong to the Serpent."