Centuries ago, a regal figure embarked on a journey to consult a seer who could unravel the mysteries of what lay ahead. This king sought to discern the shape of things to come from the mystic's words.
The soothsayer's gaze pierced the veil of time, and she revealed to the king a prophecy that reverberated with gravity. She spoke of a poignant event – the demise of one of his queens in that very year. The king, ensconced in skepticism, found amusement in the seer's words and departed with a chuckle, casting aside her portent as mere whimsy.
Yet, as the pages of time turned, the kingdom was shrouded in mourning for one of the king's consorts had indeed passed away. In this moment of sorrow, the king's memory summoned forth the seer's words, leaving a seed of doubt. The thought germinated – was it the seer's utterance that unfurled the tendrils of destiny, or was her hand the harbinger of doom?
In his grief-stricken contemplation, the king's heart became the crucible of anger and suspicion. The shadow of blame began to darken his perception. The notion solidified that the seer had wielded the strings of fate, orchestrating the demise of his beloved wife. Vengeance knitted its tendrils into his resolve, and a chilling verdict was cast – the seer's life must pay for the life she was perceived to have claimed.
Thus, the command was issued, the decree resonating through the corridors of power. The seer was summoned, an audience granted in the presence of the king. In that chamber of judgment, the king's voice resonated with authority, an accusation that reverberated with the weight of fate itself.
"Your words unveiled the curtain of time, foreseeing my queen's death," the king proclaimed. "With the strings of destiny seemingly entwined in your grasp, answer me this – when will you meet your own end?"
The seer, her intuition guided by a survival instinct, beheld the perilous precipice before her. She wove her words with deliberation, her response a delicate tapestry of truth and evasion. "Three days before your majesty departs this world," she intoned, a veil of mystery cloaking her words.
And thus, the tapestry of prophecy and consequence continued to weave itself, spun by human actions and the unknowable intricacies of existence. The seer's words held a promise of a parallel fate, an intricate dance between life and death, as the king grappled with the enigma of his own mortality and the legacy of choices made.
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