Snow Queen

She didn't chant her summons aloud, nor did she sing it. She didn't have to; she was a Godmother, after all. By ice and by fire, I summon a liar! she called fiercely in her mind, concentrating on the North Wind, for she knew it as only a Great Mage or a Godmother could; knew its true name and incorporated that into her image of what she sought, knew that right now, in its own mind, it was not identified by anything it knew of itself more strongly than that word. Liar.

The world became very still, the potentials of magic swirled all around her, then exploded outward. There was the sound of shattering ice crystals, thousands of them. A flash of blue-green light, like that seen from the inside of ice-caves. A whiff of the sharp, wet scent that comes just before snow starts to fall.

And it was there.

It brought with it none of the theatrical freezing of leaves and swirling of eddies of ice-fog. Not now, and not with her. It knew that it was in very, very deep trouble. And although it was one of the four named winds, it also knew that a powerful enough set of human magicians, or even a single Great Mage, could hurt it, or even imprison it. The Sammi were well known for imprisoning and releasing Winds — though only the most powerful and terrible of Sammi magicians would dare to imprison one of the named winds — so it stood to reason that a Godmother could do the same.

After all, once, long ago, a great and evil Witch of the Sammi had imprisoned the Sun…and had kept all four of the Winds in chains.

So the North Wind huddled on the ground in a spreading pool of ice-fog at Aleksia's feet, looking rather like a ghost, although a good bit more fantastic. In form, it looked like a skeletally thin, long-nosed man. Its hair and its beard were spines of ice, and its “clothing” did not move at all, being basically only the North Wind's imperfect mimicry of clothing. It had an extremely long and pointed nose, with, as the final touch, an icicle permanently clinging to the end of it. And just now, it looked utterly miserable and quite afraid.

“Do you know who I am?” Aleksia asked, not loudly, but with great intensity and just a little magic behind the words.

The North Wind shivered, cowered and wailed — a sound like a hundred lost souls. Ice crystals formed at the corners of its eyes and tinkled down its cheeks to fall with little ticking sounds into a pile in the snow. You are the Snow Queen, the Godmother Aleksia! It wept. Do not harm me! Do not chain me!

Well that was a satisfactory reaction. “Perhaps I should melt you instead,” Aleksia replied threateningly, allowing one hand to glow with a heat spell.

The North Wind wailed again. I am sorry! I am sorry! I lied to the mortal women!

“Yes, you did. Did you think I would never find out about it?” Aleksia's voice dropped to a dangerous purr. “You lied, and about a Godmother! You placed the deaths of dozens of mortals at my doorstep. I will be blamed for this, and mortals will come here looking for revenge. It was not enough that you lied, but you compounded the lie by bringing trouble down on my head! I am not amused!”

She did not go further and say what she wanted to — that she had now been marked as a murderer of dozens of innocent people — because the North Wind was not mortal and did not much care what mortals lived or died. In fact, the North Wind was personally responsible for many, many deaths every year, most of them, by any standard, innocent. Murder was a way of life to it; whatever this Icehart creature was, it didn't care how long the Icehart continued to kill. It cared only that she was angry, and it was only interested in somehow wiggling out of the situation it found itself in,

Don’t hurt me! It cried pitifully. It shivered uncontrollably as she glared down at it.

“Then tell me why you lied!” she snapped. The creature cried harder, more ice-crystals ticking onto the pile. Its shivering increased, and it shrank in on itself.

I — I — I cannot!

“You will,” she countered viciously, scowling down on it and allowing the heat spell to flare up in her right hand. There was a lot of satisfaction in this, truth to be told. It gratified her to have the thing so petrified of her. “Tell me who put those words in your mouth! You will — or you will pay! I can make your life far more of a misery than the one you are protecting can!” Of course, these were hollow threats. It wasn't as if a Godmother was allowed to torture anyone — or anything. But the North Wind didn't know that.

I dare not!

Aleksia growled, and held up her hand, glowing with heat and light.

With a cry of despair, the North Wind hid its face in its hands. Aleksia extended her hand toward it —

Loviatar.

She paused. This must be a name, but it was not one that she knew. “What?” she replied. The North Wind whimpered in abject defeat. She had won her bluff, and now she had a name.

Loviatar, it repeated, its glance flitting about now as if it expected this person to materialize at the first hint of the name. She is a Witch.

“I gathered as much,” Aleksia said dryly, as the Wind hid its face in its hands. “More detail, if you please.”

The North Wind peeked up at her cautiously through its fingers. She is beautiful. Very beautiful. And very angry — almost all the time. She will be furious with me when she finds out.

“Angrier than me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes dangerously. She noted with further satisfaction that the Wind grew a bit more transparent at that.

The North Wind shivered.

She lives to create pain, chaos and confusion, the North Wind said, from behind gritted teeth. She especially hates men, Mages most of all. She has been destroying as many as she could, sending them to the Underworld on impossible quests, setting monsters on them. Lemminkal and his brother, Ilmari, decided that he should take the young apprentice into the wilderness to train him further, for he had gotten beyond the mere monster-slaying and fiend-binding they could do near their home. They are great Heroes, are the Heikkinen brothers, and their fame has spread far into the North. The Witch Loviatar saw a chance to slay them,