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[Merci d'Rue]

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She had always been one shrouded in mystery. Her past was not well known, to even herself. Climbing the steep rocks of the mountain Merci’s hands gripped the coarse rocks as they ground into the soft flesh of her hands. Strong legs honed for precision propelled her up further. She searched for the coldness, the icy coolness of the mountains majesty.

Do not forsake me barren chill, let warmth stay its hand upon me.

The words were uttered even as a dove cries, in the final moments of it death.

She continued her arduous climb, reveling in the demanded performance of her body, the pushing of her being to its very brink. At last she climbed upon the highest of precipices, the icy wonder of the snow surrounding her. The air was thin and she lay panting upon the ledge.

Her cheek pressed into the snow as if it were a soft blanket, the icy coldness at last surrounding her.

Let me not stray from my path of choice, let me serve with duty and obedience.

An icy wind blew down on her and her skin turned a beautiful luminescent blue (though it would never last), the cold invading her senses, she could smell the cold, feel it, she was part of it. A lady of the snow drifted upon her looking down and smiling, touching her gently with her icy fingers stroking her hair and withdrawing the warmth that lay trapped within her.

Merci looked up upon the beautiful creature and wished only that she could be one with it, but her time was not yet, she had things to accomplish and a purpose to serve.

With an Icy kiss upon thy lips I return you to your duties…. The words rang in her head, she felt the all to familiar rush of adrenaline and rose, her fingers elongated and strong. Looking upon her hands she struggled against the creature she was within and for the moment won her battle. At any moment it would all change and she would be gone, but for the moment she was here and her intent was to draw once more the strength around her and press on.

She raised her head and let out a cry of deep intensity, shaking the snow about her daring the mountain to fall upon her. Yet it held itself still just listening to her cry until her voice grew hoarse and silenced.

She began once more the climb down, loath to leave the beauty of the coldness. Her only consolation was the chill of the Matriarch, perhaps she would feel the coolness of the Sepulchre walls soon. With grate haste she descended back into the fiery pits of the light's own hell...
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May destiny guide you...