Hearing the whistles and shouts of the Militia residents came out into the streets, most in their night dress rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

Everyone was always keen to see what all the excitement was about, because as all know - gossip is in itself a valuable commodity.

As Raz'Kul sprinted through the slowly filling streets he spotted 'The Oracle' standing outside her front door. The old woman wielded her infamous bone finger as if it were some sort of magical wand.

Raz'Kul skidded to a stop in front of The Oracle, and from the look of confidence on her face as she pointed that finger at him - he almost believed soul fire would strike him dead on the spot. 

He reached back into his pocket, and after a second found the hole. With a satisfied grin he fished out the silver coin then flipped it to The Oracle, and like a snake her hand whipped out to catch it.

Raz'Kul nodded to her. “My good lady Oracle! I am a fool for sure, but occasionally I learn from my mistakes. I might hope you would do the same?” 

“Put poor Wilfurs finger back in the ground where it belongs, then set your mind to something truly worthy of Altimus Tiertia's name?”

The Oracle was speechless for the first time in years as a dozen emotions crossed her face. How could he know it was Wilfurs finger? Who was this man? 

Raz'Kul glanced behind him as the dogs raced around the corner into the street, closely followed by the Militia.

Raz'Kul winked at The Oracle. “Believe it or not, it would seem the world needs saving!”

And Raz'Kul sped off without a backwards glance.

The Oracle looked down in confusion at the coin Raz'Kul had given her, then at the horde of Militia and dogs chasing him.

Finally she looked down at the bone finger, and The Oracle thought back to the day she had first met Wilfur...

-+-

Marbles is a simple game, which it seemed to her involved as much luck as skill. Until she saw Wilfur play that is. Wilfur was so good he was master of not only the street, but of the entire middle quarter.

The players throw small coloured glass globes into a circle drawn in chalk. The winner (decided upon by rules which seemed to change daily, or even hourly) took all marbles in play.

Wilfur was so good nobody else stood a chance, and finally after one long summers day - he had won everything!

When Wilfurs parents called him in for dinner he strode away with a bag full to overflowing. He had won every last marble taken from every child in the street - including hers.

In that moment she hated him.

Every eye followed Wilfur as he swaggered home with his winnings, and it seemed as if he was deliberately drawing it out, savouring their pain. A few of the younger children started to cry.

She hated him a little more.

Just before his front door Wilfur spun round to grin at them all. 

She hated him a little more.

Wilfur pulled open the drawstrings of his ridiculously large bag of marbles and peered down at the contents - mocking them all.

She hated him a little more.

Finally Wilfur shouted the now legendary word...

“Scramble!”

...and the air was full of marbles!

The sight and sound of those marbles bouncing off the cobblestones set every child in motion as they rushed and clambered over each other in glee - trying to collect as many as they could.

Every child but her...

She regarded Wilfur in amazement, and saw the genuine smile on his face. 

Realising he was being watched Wilfur looked over at her in embarrassment. Then he smiled shyly before turning to walk back into his house - without a single marble.

She married him five years later.

-+-

The Oracle recalled that day as if it was yesterday, and a single tear ran down her cheek. The first tear shed since the day Wilfur had died.

She reached into her gown and withdrew her pouch of silver to deposit the coin Raz'Kul had given her.

The Oracle opened the drawstrings and peered down at the contents.

There are many words and phrases that can stimulate a person from sleepy confusion, to utter focus - within a split second.

“Fire!”

“Plague!”

“Tax Collector!”

Yet there is one word which beats them all...

One word imprinted into the mind from childhood. 

One word ingrained so deep, it brings immediate clarity to adult and child alike...

“Scramble!”

And as 64 silver coins reached their zenith, it was as if time stopped... 

The coins seemed to hang there - just for a split-second, which was almost an eternity. 

At that point of near stasis a gap in the clouds opened, and a single shard of moonlight lanced through. Every single coin was caught in that moonbeam, and every eye was fixed on the spectacle.

The whistles, the dogs, the booted feet, the shouts? They became nothing but a background whisper.

Instead all that could be heard was a faint music caught in the breeze...

It sounded a little bit like...

...chimes?

Then it was as if time had fast forwarded. As if it had raced to catch up with that paused moment in order to restore the balance. 

...and the only sound was that of silver bouncing on cobblestones.

The reaction was so deep set it wasn't even a conscious decision - it was a natural response. Combined with the added incentive it wasn't marbles but silver coins?

It was madness...

Friend? Neighbour? Family? All forgotten in an instant as the street launched into action - pushing and clambering over one another to get to those coins.

Yet the coins seemed to spread perfectly, their initial bounce spinning them just out of reach.

And the street descended into chaos...

Confused by the clamour, the dogs went into a frenzy barking at anyone and everyone in excitement.

The Militia chasing Raz'Kul were likewise stopped in their tracks, unable to get past or calm their hounds. 

Half of the Militia shouted orders and threats for people to get out of the way - which were duly ignored. 

The other half of the Militia joined the scramble for the coins, which although nothing compared to Raz'Kul's bounty - were at least immediately attainable.

And amidst that chaos, Raz'Kul disappeared into the night.

The Oracle glanced at the side street Raz'Kul had disappeared down in confusion, then reviewed the riot she had created.

Then she thought of Wilfur and grinned.

Her grin turned to a frown as she looked down at the silver coin Raz'Kul had tossed to her. The Oracle turned the full depths of her withering glare (for which she was known so well) upon that coin.

With an expert eye she weighed the coin in her hand, then held it up to the torch light. Finally for good measure she bit into it and held it up for inspection once more.

Then (again for the first time since before Wilfur had passed) the Oracle burst into cackling laughter. 

The laughter was so unexpected several of her neighbours briefly paused to look at her in shock - before returning to the scramble.

She spun and walked back to her front door, and as she did The Oracle tossed the obviously fake silver coin back over her shoulder into the crowd.

With a chuckle she closed the door and whispered “Scramble” once more.

She ascended the stairs laughing all the way, and despite the riot outside and just having thrown away her life savings..?

...The Oracle Of The Glowing Quill slept soundly for the for the first time since Wilfur had passed away.

And when they found her in the morning, she had a smile upon her face.

Chapter 6