The Gilded Oracle of Aeloria

They called her the Oracle of Aeloria, though no one knew if she was woman or god. Draped in sculpted gold that clung like a second skin, she drifted through the marbled corridors of the Celestial Basilica, where clouds themselves were said to kneel at her passing. Her eyes—unearthly pale, rimmed with fire—did not see as mortals saw, but pierced through the fabric of years yet to come. To look upon her was to feel the weight of destiny pressed into bone, an unsettling mixture of awe and dread. Each ornament she bore was more than adornment; the discs and bands that circled her limbs were ancient mechanisms, said to turn with the alignment of forgotten stars. Those who sought her counsel did so trembling, for she never lied, and her truth was rarely merciful. The empire had fallen, yet she remained—unchanged, eternal, the last witness to both splendor and ruin, awaiting the one prophecy still unspoken.