I died.
Obviously I recovered, but the point here is that I died. I fell to the ground, my limited sight gave way to the blackened void, and I ceased to be. Or so I thought. Time had no meaning. Out of nowhere a gravely voice burst forth and I heard without ears "I am not done with you yet".
I lived again. I had gained much, but lost much as well. I could see again, clear and far as anyone else I had allied with. I no longer felt the Oracle's Curse, no longer felt the build-up to a barrage of uncontrollable visions. It seemed as if that part of me had been ripped away, leaving me behind to figure things out all over again.
I had chosen then to continue the ruse of the blind beggar, which I have done through to this day. Individuals here and there sometimes notice, such as those I allied with at that point in time, but I allowed the myth to propogate itself with the masses and it has served me well.
I am not human. I am not an oracle. I am elemental, all the wrath and wisdom of far traveling wind taken form in that of a young blind woman. I am changed, and I am strong. Chaos had made me it's pawn, feeding me visions meant to pass as truths, and playing with my soul. Choas will do this no more. Chaos will bend to me. I will be chaos. In a way, I already am:
I was dead, and yet I live.