Minerva

The reports were sickening, the rumors even more so. When Minerva’s clan heard the tales of a dreaded and chaotic witch, they knew that stopping such a powerful mage was necessary for the peace of Sornieth. The tales spoke of a Spiral who slithered through the lands like a snake on the prowl, leaving hexes and curses in her wake. She lusted for power and sought to wreak havoc on those whom she felt wronged her. For many clans unfortunate enough to be in her way, they quickly discovered that the witch thought few to be undeserving of her wrath and turmoil. While her clan heard many of the reports, the rumor of a poor hatchling who crossed the witch’s path sent shivers down Minerva’s spine.

It was a particularly warm night in the Southern Icefield, ripe with a thickness in the air that promised a coming summer. It was here, not too far from their home, that Minerva and her small group of clan-mates rested. Recent activity placed the witch nearby, but a Spiral’s small body and erratic behavior was bound to make for a difficult catch. Padding around their camp once more before sleep overcame the group, Minerva settled in for the night on the softest patch of snow that she could find. It was mere moments later that a loud explosion started the group, Minerva’s eyes only partially lidded in sleep. She started, alert as can be to see a Spiral raining down destructive magics on their camp.

The witch’s assault of dark magic was awe-inspiring; tendrils of darkness coming forth – threatening to consume all. One of Minerva’s clan was injured immediately, a young Skydancer, his wounds serious but not life-threatening. Minerva quickly gathered herself and shot back at the Spiral, the Imperial’s raw arcane energies hitting dead-on. Three more blasts from Minerva’s great paws saw the Spiral fall limply to the ground, Minerva acting quickly to seal the witch’s powerful magic away.

Minerva, the most powerful mage in her clan and among the greats in all of Sornieth, locked the Spiral away in a bog very near where their confrontation occurred. Setting a guard, Minerva returned with her small group to the majority of the clan, who were already quick at work deciding what to do with the witch. Words were spat, and Minerva heard them. Brute. Deceiver. Shade. Murderer. She cringed at the final word, quick to remind everyone that most of what they had heard were only rumors. They had no proof to make such accusations. Devoid of their proof, the clan agreed to let Minerva contact the witch in hopes of useful information. The great Imperial spread her wings and left for the bog.

Upon her arrival, the witch refused to look at Minerva. Immediately, the Spiral was disgusted by the Imperial’s bubbly personality. Despite what Minerva said, this was an interrogation and her prisoner knew it. Unfortunately for the Spiral, chained and magically sealed as she was, she was forced to sit and listen to the Imperial jabber on about herself. The witch, despite seeming bored and to not be listening, learned quite a large amount about her captor. Minerva told stories of her early years in the Starfall Isles, playing and learning magic with her siblings. They had all especially loved to hop between the floating rocks that littered the isles. In fact, she said, that was how they all learned to fly.

Minerva spoke of her apprenticeship to the Arcanist Himself, since she was always a welcome personality in the great halls of the Observatory. Eventually, she explained, that she decided to continue her studies solo, a small home in the Starwood Strand testament to this. The witch stopped listened at this point, cautious of how similar their life narratives were. Yet, here was this bubbly and obviously curious Imperial who was swept up into an Ice clan partially because she was such a powerful mage. The Spiral scoffed, she was a much more powerful mage. She looked the Imperial in the eyes and spoke her name: Tamira.

Many moons passed while Tamira was chained in her bog, the melting snows providing her bog with an increasingly warm water supply. Often, Minerva would bring food for the witch and ever so slowly Tamira began to find herself excited by the arrival of her guardian Imperial. There was little trust between the two, but a small amount of patience was visible. Tamira listened to Minerva drone on for hours about some new star she was studying and gradually Tamira let loose some details about her own background, convinced that Minerva listened to none of it.

Minerva, however, absorbed every word. She listened to a battered and broken Spiral mumble about abandonment as a hatchling, left to wander the Tangled Wood like a rat. A powerful warlock in the region took her in as an apprentice, but the relationship was unstable and soon enough, Tamira turned on him. It was then that she turned to a traveling life of chaos and destruction that had been so abruptly ended by Minerva. Sweet-natured Minerva saw potential in the Spiral, and with her patience and ever-positive personality saw Tamira released from her prison – with magical seals for good measure, of course.

Despite Minerva’s sponsorship, Tamira never came to be fully accepted by her new clan. It bothered her little as Tamira hated them in turn. The only reason she stayed was because of Minerva. She even stayed when Minerva suggested Tamira join the clan’s games. Gods, she hoped she wasn’t developing a soft spot for the Imperial. Many years have passed and Tamira still resides in the clan, a shadow to Minerva – often quite literally. Despite her rough beginnings and her seeming inability to convince the clan that she was not indeed a murderer, Tamira is grateful for all of what Minerva – no, her friend – has done for her.