Quiet. Silence. The sound of falling snow. It was welcome. She had dreamed once of becoming encased in moonstone and watching the world pass by as she remained untouched. If only things could be like our dreams. Simple and the worst parts we could wake from. Life was far from the misty shapes and muted colors of her dreams. In dreams there was no pain, no pretenses, no lies.
The waking world was full of them. She had been bitter for a time but she had mostly moved past it save for anger at a few well deserved subjects. She looked up and let the snow fall on her face its touch so cold it reminded her she was alive. She stood so still only her hair and cloak moving in the wind it might look like she had died and froze in that position. Far from it she was enjoying the quiet. For too many quiet was a void to be filled. Not so for her.
After Rheksas.... after what he had done she had not spoken for ages it seemed but in her quiet she rediscovered things around her. The song of a wind in the trees or the symphony of a rainstorm. Quiet was welcome, it was a time to think to unwind. Quiet and a solitary life kept the pain and betrayal at bay. It was better that way. Men had given her so many scars over the years. The physical ones like the ones on her back, on her ankle, and her neck and other ones no less devastating on her heart.
She petted Kip as he poked his head out of her hood. "I shan't dare love again, to wish only fools the heart. The world is full of predators and I am easy prey they think.... Its why I had to get stronger. I would not die on a mans blade because I no longer amused him." She said and closed her eyes thinking of Locke or Thas as he now went by. A tear trickled down her cheek. She might long for something with all her heart, but to wish and hope only made room for disappointment. Never again would she hang her hopes for happiness on another.
To snowy to ride out on a horse to lose herself to the wind and the thundering of hooves. So she was content with a walk among the wind and snow and the sleeping trees who like her only seemed to wait for spring. For green shoots and flowers and fresh herbs. She thought for a moment back to her first time seeing snow and playing in it. It had been almost as tall as herself and when she hit the deeper drifts her adoptive father had to pluck her out with a chuckle. No doubt if he hadn't plucked her out they would not have found her till the spring thaw in the mountain passes.
She paused a moment as the snow gathered on her moonlight hair. When one has a brush with death or many as she had endured one tends to get quite reflective on ones purpose. She tried to remember every person she had ever helped. Every life she had ever touched. Calculating her life's worth on the good she had done in her life. Was it enough? Would she be remembered with no heir to her legacy or would she fade like the pristine white snow into spring green soon forgotten.
More then anything being forgotten gnawed at her. The most common of desires was to be uncommon. She wanted to be remembered not for her beauty or some footnote in history but remembered for something meaningful. The stone promised her such things but she would not become what it could make her. No being recalled as a tyrant was worse than being forgotten.
This was not a path she would take no matter how tempted at times she was when things were hard. She was a better person, she was a priestess, she was the lady of light. Her light would not be dimmed or diminished so long as she lived she would see to that personally.