The Oracle of Stamboul

She hadn't lied. She hadn't betrayed anyone's trust; still, she felt she had done something wrong. Or rather, she had not yet done the right thing. Was there a difference between these two sins?

With every choice, even the choice of inactivity, we must shut the door to a host of alternate futures. Each step we take along the path of fate represents a narrowing of potential, the death of a parallel world. The path of fate was more like a tunnel, and it was constricting about her with ever step she took.

You are a very special child," the old handmaid said, stroking Eleonora's hair. "You know that don't you?" Eleonora mumbled a yes. "You know you are special, but I think that you aren't sure how." She nodded. That was, indeed, the crux of it.

A slippery fish, flashing scales in the water and a noble fighter on the line, but dull as lead at the bottom of the boat.

This divergence of experience was not a stumbling block to conversation; indeed, it was what made the conversation interesting.