Letting Go

The fire crackled within the ruined building, its warmth radiating only as far as the crumbling walls deep in the heart of the ruins of Silvermoon. Biara crouched over it, every now and then feeding it a new piece of the destroyed furniture that remained within the abandoned building. She crouched down, warming her hands against the chill of the night before reaching up to wipe her eyes.

She'd been crying for what seemed like hours now. It was the holiday, or perhaps something else that had been worrying at her mind. She'd come to this part of Silvermoon, the part that no one ventured to anymore, simply to be completely alone. No one would look for her here, and her wards would prevent anyone from scrying on her. Blessed solitude, or cursed solitude depending on how you looked at it.

Seeing the happy couples walking through the city, seeing the festivities at this time of year reminded her of the past more than she'd care to admit. It reminded Biara of what her life had become through necessity for her people. She sighed to herself and reached down, picking up a small jeweled box she had brought with her. Holding it in one palm, she opened it and slowly withdrew the contents; a few pieces of parchment and a dried rose.

She smiled briefly as she held the letters, her fingers tracing the familiar writing of Aeranor Runesong. They were the few times he had spoken kindly to her, and made her heart race with feelings she'd not experienced before. The letters were reminders of those feelings, and the brief time when she'd felt loved by him. Now they were almost like weights in her hands. It was time to let them go, to let those memories go before the holiday drove her mad.

Slowly she dropped the letters into the small fire before her, watching as the flames curled around the edges of the papers and blackened them. She stared at the flickering fire for a time, her mind recalling voices from the past.

"You have no heart, and wouldn't know what to do with one witch."

"What would you know of love? You who have ice flowing through your veins?"

"Love serves its purpose in binding others to our will. Love is not something to cloud our judgment Biara. Do not make the same mistake I did so long ago."

Biara shook her head, letting the voices echo in her mind for a time as the flames consumed the last of the words on the parchment. The ashes of the burning love letters floated gently in the air, and Biara brought a hand up, using her magic to conjure a cold wind around her, swirling the embers like so many twinkling lights. Her expression darkened, oblvious to the beauty of the display. The temperature plunged further as her magic whipped around the ruined chamber. Biara looked down at her open palm, watching the glow of deadly cold magic gather there, admiring its beauty.

"So be it," she whispered. "If this is to be my fate, if my heart is to be filled with nothing but the ice of my magic, then I accept this as the price I pay for my people."

Abruptly the magic cut off, and the embers and swirling ashes slowly drifted to the ground around the silent Magistrix. She stared at the crackling fire for another moment before uttering a word, snuffing it out and plunging the room into darkness.

From the blackness her voice whispered again, tiny against the seemly endless night, "I will show them exactly what it means to have a heart of ice. I will show them all the true power of the Sin'dorei. My sacrifice will be mirrored by the sorrow of my enemies, for they too shall lose their loves, and their lives."

As Biara walked from the ruins, the only sound to be heard was her boot as it crushed a dried rose beneath it.