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The storm raged outside the cabin, the wind rattling the windows and causing the weaker branches of the forest to fall crashing to the ground. Lightning flashed and thunder roared, causing an eerie presence to grow in the darkness of the clearing in which the fragile but well built cabin stood.

Inside the cabin was lit a fire that danced in rhythm with the wind. Placed on every surface along the walls were dozens of candles; every color, size, and scent was represented in those candles. Their dancing light added to that of the fire; little pinpricks of heat adding to that of the larger flames, making the temperature of the room comfortable.

On a rug of rabbit fur, in the center of the room, knelt a woman clothed only in her long, luxurious hair. Her gaze was locked on the flames of the fire in front of her, her body completely relaxed. In her hands was a double edged dagger, it’s metal glinting in the yellow light of fire and reflecting the white light of lightning when it flashed through the windows. On her back was a simple design, almost hidden in her hair. A rose, red in colour, that seemed to twine around her spine from buttocks to neck.

Her lips moved in silent prayer, though not the least bit worried about the storm that tore the forest apart around her. In fact, had one been able to read her thoughts, she welcomed the storm, for it mirrored the turmoil inside of her. She knew not what to do with herself, nor what to do about those in her life whose presence so irritated her, yet she craved. It was a pretty dilemma, so she had come out to this cabin in search of an answer.

She had yet to find one, so she knelt in front of the Goddess to beg for the answers to make her world livable. She could see no way to reconcile the two answers to the question, so asked for a third option, one that she would be able to live with in the years to come.

She knelt there for hours, the candles burning down to nothing, the fire finally petering out until she knelt in darkness. Still, she had no answer, and she was near to despair. Would she never be able to lead a comfortable existence? Was she doomed to flounder through life, one unhappy moment to the next?

As the air grew colder, she moved. She did not rise, but her hands brought the dagger to her chest. Without thinking, she pondered this third solution to her problem. Why not just end it all, and not live another day going through this pain? It was the cowards way out, but would anyone truly blame her for taking it?

That was when her answer came.

It came in the form of a voice on the wind, coming down the chimney and circling her in a gentle embrace. It told her of a chosen few who were made to walk this earth to make the lives of others easier. That it was their duty to heal, but never be healed. Not in this lifetimes. But when it ended, there would be a reward that the human mind could not dream of.

It gave her a choice. The mysterious voice would understand if she could not undertake this duty, and would not do anything other than setting her back on the earth in a form that did not have to deal with the pain of others. Or, she could take up this burden fully and live out her days in what joy she could manage, and the voice would give her the reward at the end of it all. It would take years, and much pain, but it would be so very worth it.

Minutes dragged on, the dagger held loosely to her breast. Then, after what seemed an eternity she placed the dagger onto the skin. She breathed her response into the wind, so that it might carry it to whomever had spoken. She had made her choice.