ORIGIN

It was the second time she had heard the mouth-sound Vianne. That must be it, then. That must be who her mirror was. “Vianne,” she repeated, still in a whisper, so quiet as to be nigh impossible to hear. Well… if the Gembound who looked exactly like her, except bigger, was called Vianne, then… did that make her Vianne? Where was one to draw the line? She was unsure. She stepped back again, looking down at herself. She caught a glimpse of the large snowflake-shaped gem on her chest, but couldn’t see it fully. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

She looked up at Vianne with dark, lost eyes. She came forward again, nudged the air in front of the larger creature. “Vianne,” she said. Then she stepped back, walked in a slow circle, stopped in front of Vianne again and looked at her questioningly. She looked down at herself again, then up at the white Gembound again. She was asking, ’If you are Vianne, then who am I?’

The wraith did not, unfortunately, understand Vianne’s reply to her silent question. She stared at the older Gembound with dark, confused eyes, tilting her head. None of these new mouth-sounds seemed liked names. Did Vianne not know… who she was? She supposed she would simply have to find her own name…

Nothing came to her as she stood and waited, nothing intuitive called to her. The wind in the trees, the water, and the insects that inhabited Cetus were all she heard. Nothing more. Perhaps she had no name. She was simply… here. A ghost who wandered the trees of Cetus. Perhaps she needed no name. She looked back towards Vianne, breath fogging around her muzzle. She did not know how to tell her mirror that she was No One, so she simply shook her head slowly.

The Divine, the massive tree that had witnessed her birth, was her Mother. Vianne was her Mirror. Aries, the ram who had met her after she’d hatched, was a vague memory. She remembered his unsolicited contact, but his want to remain near her. He was Heat, which she did not understand, but he had not truly harmed her, so perhaps Heat was not always bad. But she… she was Cold. She was Mist and Fog and Rain and Wind. She was Winter-bound. One day she would be Snow-bound, an Ice Queen. These titles were what she knew, even if she did not know the words associated with them.

No. She did not need a name. She knew who she was. What others called her did not matter to her. She turned from Vianne, staring up into the branches of the Divine. Her Mirror had done good work, even if she did not know it, giving the wraith the tools with which to think about her life. After that, the wraith forgot her, her mind lost in the mist…