I think I'd like to play her...
No one would deny the thrilling crispness of the cold wind at the top of the mountains. The urza claimed it a blessing, that tingle against my cheek that sometimes happened with the Wind's passing. I'd thought it unsettling when I was a child. The Wind would stir, and ruffle my hair in ways it didn't the other children. I'd hear voices, sometimes, in its breath.
I still do.
Today I sat on the outcroppings of the Gharzi. I'd visited to these peaks often during my training, though not always of my own will. Gharzi, with its rugged landscape, was favorite of trainers, and no few had fallen to their death, despite the Wind's kiss upon each brow, the quickness of hand or the mercurial twist of foot.
The touch of the Wind on my cheek, gentle as an old lover, as cold as a winter's heart, gave me no comfort. It thrilled me--it reminded me of the responsibility ahead, the purity and will expected of me.
Within the purest heart lies purest strength.
Our Order said it, believed it, but the reverse was true. So much as the Wind and cold represented that purity--so it concealed hidden depths. Ice was more opaque the deeper it went, and the purity it represneted became a twist of lies, of half-truths.
I stood up, and prepared to leave Gharzi, and to pack my bags. I would be accompanying the duke de L'Quenisse in days. It would be my first assignment. According to tradition, I would act as guard, and spiritual advisor. I would stand as a steadfast reminder of the faith of the gods, and adherence to tradition. My training prepared me for both roles: I expected to do well, though I did not know what lay ahead of me.
--- * ---
Today I stood before the duke. He'd chosen well in his marriage. A courtesian whose name at first I hadn't recognized, at first--but in time knew her as the bastard offspring from the L'Farnen, and all that brought with her. Her cold eyes met mine in purity, embodiment in the Wind, though her heart was closed and hard, unlike the teachings of my Order.
Where our Order gave mercy, or kindness beneath the Wind's chill exterior, she followed the harder traditions of our mountinous homes. Her ruthlessness would serve him well in his conquests.
Which is why I would be exiled. It was dominance--that I understood. As advisor, protector, I influenced policy in small ways. Sometimes large ones. As a L'Farnen, as a member of the order of Twisted Thorns, she and I were naturally at odds.
The L'Quenisse moved in hours to retake ancestral lands (whose, that was open to debate), and in the midst of battle there could be no mistakes, no divided loyalties. Thus, this hearing. And thus, if they succeeded--my need to travel far from here, my need to seek a new land and home. Their ambitions were sizable.
...it feels like the flexing of old muscles. :)