This is the story of a Winter Maiden, long ago. Like most maidens, her name has been lost to time, and like most maidens she died young. But for a few years, she wandered the countryside, and early on in her journeys she passed through a small town in Mistral.
It wasn't much to look at. A few buildings and some particularly stubborn families. She befriended a woman there, perhaps a year or two younger, who helped improve her armor. Where the Maiden was enthusiastic and bright, the blacksmith was quieter, and more subdued. Opposites, in a way, but they were close friends none-the-less, and spent many hours in the meadows nearby.
This town became a sort of home for the Winter Maiden, for she always returned to it and her blacksmith friend. As sometimes happened, friendship blossomed into love and sweet kisses in their meadow was all the more reason to return.
Until one day, she didn't.
It's known now, that when a Maiden dies, her powers pass to the last person who was in her thoughts. And so this young blacksmith knew instantly that her love was gone, for she became the new Winter Maiden.
There is something else that's not well known even now. Powers aren't the only thing that transfer. Memories and feelings,little pieces of the Maiden pass on to the next. The new Maiden suddenly understood in a way that most never would, just how much she'd been loved and how much those quiet mornings in the meadow had meant to her love.
And every Winter Maiden since felt a connection to quiet meadows, and the sound of the hammer in the forge.