Oracle

Answering an unseen ritual, she inhales the mist of time and exhales rings of fate. In the dim light of the room, the smoke takes shape, becoming a conduit to hidden knowledge. Her gaze, reflected in the shimmering air, penetrates the very essence of things. She does not predict the future—she contemplates all its versions at once. Do not ask how she knows—simply trust. Her truths, veiled in a shroud of smoke, are the keys to your own soul.