"You show me lies," Oedipus watched his younger self say. "Teiresias did not only accuse me of Laius' murder. I remember his riddle: 'his children shall be both brother and son, and she who bore them both mother and wife.' I am a Corinthian, not a theban. Why should some of his prophecy be true and not all?"

"What a silly king you are. So wise with riddles, and yet you know nothing of your own history. Why did you leave Corinth?"

The young Oedipus paused. "An oracle told me I would murder my father and bed my mother. What of it?"

"Laius and Jocasta were given the same prophecy about their son. They pierced its feet and were to leave him to die, but the shepherd charged with the task gave him to a shepherd of Corinth." The shape began to change into another young Oedipus. The king watched the two move toward each other and embrace. "Why do you walk with a limp, Oedipus?" asked the second. 'Do you know your own name?" asked the first.

The two began to kiss, and he saw them both as himself, Laius and Jocasta; at times one or another, at times two or three at the same time, a writhing mass in coitus with itself. Their skin shrank and rotted, revealing rotted bone beneath.

"You have seen this truth with your eyes," they spoke, simultaneously. "Awaken now, and forsake Thebes forever."

Oedipus awakened into darkness. He felt his way along the walls and wandered outside. "What's wrong, Sire?" called one of the servants.

"I don't know. Why is it so dark in here? Bring me light." The servant did so, and though Oedipus could feel the heat emanating from the flame, it would not dissuade the darkness.