[h2][center][b]Malaena[/b][/center][/h2]


Pale moonlight filtered through expertly carved latticework of the covered walk, throwing intricate patterns of silvery light and bluish shadows over the ground, broken only by the powdery snow that danced across pale stones.
Steady, clipped footsteps broke through the howl of the wind as a slender figure emerged from the darkness, sweeping through the airy structure and up to the great black door of the first Spire. 
A blast of icy wind and snow coursed through the foyer, leaving a bitter chill in the air as Malaena shoved the great door shut before turning to study the pathetic being that had blown in on her heels. She did not recognize him to be a resident of the city that sprawled beneath the shadow of the mountains, but that was hardly surprising. While she kept a close enough eye on the city and its population, she was not necessarily on such intimate terms as to know the name or face of every single soul to dwell within the walls of Heshaar. 

Judging by the crust of ice that crackled and shattered into jagged pieces as he pulled himself to an unsteady stance, he had been hunkered down on the doorstep for quite some time, left to be beaten by the elements. His young face was raw from the cold and wind, eyes puffy and red as he squinted into the darkness, attempting to focus on anything other than the burning pain in his limbs. 
Questioning him in his current state was obviously going to go nowhere, and Malaena heaved what could have been perceived as a long suffering sigh, stepping closer to catch his wandering attention.

"Come along then, since I've let you in you might as well stay and dry off before I send you back out." Gesturing briefly with a languid movement of her hand she swept up a flight of marble steps, disappearing around the first curve in a matter of seconds. The lad gazed after her with a vacant look, his frost numbed brain failing to keep up with simple things, such as interpreting verbal directions and movement.  Eventually, however, he managed to stir himself into a painful shuffle, stumbling up the steps in a dazed sort of stupor. 

The library was dark and silent, not a single torch or lamp having been left burning during her absence, leaving the vaulted room to be lit by what natural light could seep through the tall, narrow windows. Upon entering Malaena did not even glance up, weaving through the maze of columns with a practiced ease, snatching bits and pieces of parchment, quill, and ink from various shelves before settling behind the desk that sat in the middle of the room. Light seemed to be somewhat of an afterthought, a small flick of her fingers sending a faint ripple through the air, great iron chandeliers instantly flooding the room with a warm golden glow. 
After all, she supposed she would have to properly thaw her visitor before he would be able to make much sense of anything. 


"So tell me, what were you seeking on my doorstep in the middle of the night?" Malaena lifted her eyes from the worn pages of an ancient text to fasten the youth with a level gaze. It had been hours since he had finally drug himself into the room, bits of slush and and ice trailing up to hearth where he had collapsed. In that time his appearance had improved slightly, awareness creeping back into bloodshot eyes, a faint cloud of steam hanging about him as his damp clothing continued to dry. 

"I was sent . . .m'lady, bearing a dispatch of an urgent nature. I t'was instructed to deliver it straight to your hands." A fit of sneezing prevented further explanation, and once it had passed he had forgotten whatever it was he was to have said next, instead setting to rummaging about the pockets of his cloak until he drew forth a crumpled, soggy piece of dirty parchment.

"Good heavens, they sent you all the way up the mountain for this?" Her tone was faintly amused as she accepted the dispatch, seemingly unaffected by the poor boy's fit of chills and running nose.  

Parts of the letter were so blurred and distorted it was beyond ability to decipher what had once been written, but even so there yet remained enough legible lines to piece together most of what it had said. 
A call for assistance was not a new experience for the woman, indeed, it was something that had gotten quite tiring in times long passed. This, however, was the first 'official' acknowledgment of her existence since returning to the Spires. 


[b][u]Several Days Later[/u][/b]

Volatile winds screamed in anger as the form of a giant bird surged through snow laden skies, dipping and spinning in an effort to use the unpredictable air currents. 
While any recognizable landmark had long since melted into the landscape the black mountain had been easy to spot, standing out harshly against the swirling mass of blinding snow. Slightly less obvious were the faint smudges of dark shadows creeping across the ground, all appearing to be heading in the same direction.

Joining those on the ground was a viable option, but it was not the most appealing idea ever, considering there was a good chance that personalities were going to begin to clash even before entrance to the Tower of Gold had been given. There would be enough time for that later.

Shifting directions the bird soared upward, ghosting over the top of the walled fortress and coming to land in a flurry of feathers and black shadows. Wisps of vapor lifted to reveal a cloaked woman, hands raised in a token, nonthreatening gesture as a group of guards advanced in her direction.

"Despite my rather unorthodox arrival, I was actually invited."