Hilde stood at the window, staring out into the darkening skies over Dalaran. A light misty rain streaked the fanciful towers, sliding down the brightly plastered buildings to chatter prettily out of the gnomish-designed gutters. Not a single breath of wind touched the curtains at her sides. Here in the floating city of the mages, such simple pleasures as the touch of the breeze were rigidly controlled.
She turned back towards the brightly-lit interior of her loaned room. It was circular, and richly decorated in fine tapestries and plush cushions. A pallet close to the window served as both bed and lounge. A small closet occupied the wall closest to the tiny washroom. Her worn traveling bag was propped at the foot of bed, with her cloak folded carelessly over the top. A large floor-length mirror completed the space, capturing the last rays of daylight and beaming them throughout the room.
Hilde picked up her latest project, a robe imbued against the powers of frost, and made a few tiny stitches before dropping it back to the floor. She paced back to the window, frowning. Arms crossed, she stared into the growing night; her eyes drawn to the north and to the jagged mountains of Icecrown.
The door opened softly behind her, and closed with a snap. She turned her head, giving a nod of greeting to the dark-haired woman who entered.
"All is in readiness," the arrival said, her voice smooth as honeyed silk. She pushed back the thick green hooded cloak, revealing features as delicate as porcelain. Her amber eyes traveled over the girl in front of her, taking in her face and position in a flicker. "This is not exactly a night to dwell on whether or not you'd rather be fighting the Scourge."
"It dwells at the edge of all my thoughts," Hilde sighed. She smoothed a tendril of her long ashen-blonde hair back over her shoulder. "I know Lord Fordring sent me here for a purpose, but I still feel like I should be with the rest of the crusade in Icecrown."
"He sent you to me to teach you how to live, and if you were worthy, to take the oath as a maiden of the crusade. As such, it will be up to me to decide when and if you return to forward line of the crusade against the traitor Prince."
"Yes, Lady Alessandra," Hilde sighed. She turned from the window and stretched out a hand for her simple yellow cloak. "Shall we go then?"
Alessandra's hand shot out, gripping Hilde's wrist tightly. "There is no room for doubts in this. For you to take this oath and make this pledge, you will give yourself body and soul to the crusade. If there is any hint, any nagging worries in your heart, back out now."
Hilde frowned and pulled her wrist free. Her pale green eyes met the dark amber ones steadily as she grabbed her cloak. "There is nothing else I have ever wanted as much as to serve the crusade." She swung the cloak around her shoulders, pulling the folds up to shroud her features. "I may be a warlock but I have my honor."
Alessandra flicked the hood of her cloak up as well, and motioned for the other to follow. They exited onto the great spiraling stairs of the mighty tower, steadily revolving down, down, down to the ground floor. The tower opened onto one of the many plaza squares in the city. A muted glow from the many ensorcelled sconces cast a cheery glow into the darkness of evening. Alessandra led the way through the well-travelled streets, twisting and turning, until finally reaching a small shop-front close to the great Violet Citadel's walls. The shop was already shuttered against the evening, but the two women walked in without pause.
They slid off their cloaks, placing them on the convenient pegs close to the door. Alessandra turned and muttered a spell, sealing the door firmly against any other visitors.
The heavy scent of inks and steel hung in the air, interspersed with flowery scents and sharp, tangy smells. Drying herbs and bits of fauna of all types hung from racks on the walls. Carefully labeled bottles of unguents and potions lined the shelves. And in the center of the room, two stools and a table stood bathed in light.
Hilde stepped forward, trailing a finger down the table. It was fitted with a mattress, and a small sewn-in pillow for the head. Two spurs formed a Y shape at the top; each spur fitted with shining buckles and straps. More straps lay in readiness along the edge of the table.
"Greetings Master Phu'lou," Alessandra said, clapping her hands together and bowing. Hilde turned to see an old tuskarr making his way into the room, his eyes seemingly coated in a milky film. He bowed in answer, and turned to look at her, blowing out air through his whiskers.
"This is the young lady? She is very beautiful." Master Phu'lou stepped forward, his ancient hands cupping Hilde's face. "A warlock, if I'm not mistaken. Hard to miss the demon blood in those eyes. Interesting to see one want to serve the Argent Crusade."
His wrinkled fingers traced the outline of Hilde's face while his lips pursed in concentration. "A great deal of pain I see in this one. She was lost for a long time in the madness." He turned, his eyes focusing on Alessandra. "It will be as it was with you, my Lady."
Alessandra caught her breath. At Hilde's questioning look, she shook her head. "He means it will be painful."
"Pain doesn't concern me," Hilde said shortly. "I am ready for this."
Master Phu'lou nodded. "I can see the shape and the pallet already. While I mix the colors, please disrobe and get on the table. Lady Alessandra, please strap her down."
Hilde unbuttoned her robe and folded it carefully before placing it on one of the few empty spaces on a nearby shelf. She slipped out of her other garments, and reached out for the sheet Alessandra was already holding out to her. With the other woman's help, she stretched out on the table on her stomach, her head pillowed, her arms stretched out along the spurs. Alessandra took the lower half of the sheet and folded it over Hilde's feet, stretching it back up to cover her from toe to buttocks.
"Stretch out your hands," she commanded softly. Hilde flexed her fingers as the first strap locked her right hand into place. A moment later her left hand was likewise immobilized. Alessandra worked her way down the table, each strap fastening Hilde tightly to the platform. The final tie came around her neck, pinning her in place.
Alessandra sat on the stool just in front of Hilde's eyes. Her clasped hands were all that filled the warlock's vision. From just over her shoulder, Hilde could hear the soft murmuring of the master mixing his inks, and the clink of tools being readied.
"Lady Hilde du Holemhein, you have been chosen to become a maiden of the Argent Crusade, to serve the crusade in this life and beyond." Alessandra's voice slid with practiced formality through the quiet air. "This is a sacrifice that cannot be compelled, but must be embraced. To that end, to mark your devotion, your body shall take up the brand of the sword. Accept the pain and be cleansed by pain, to enter the fires as a truly righteous warrior for the light."
The clasped hands separated, moved, formed the sign of the light over Hilde's nose, before dropping back into the woman's lap. Hilde took a deep breath as she felt a light pressure at each shoulder blade, then in the middle of her back. The pressure traced down her spine to nearly the swell of her buttocks, before retreating back up. A hand pushed her hair aside and over her shoulder, and the pressure returned just to the base of the neck strap.
"I have the outline, my lady," Phu'lou's voice echoed, close to Hilde's captive ears. "You must remain as relaxed and still as you can while I work."
Hilde took a deep breath and tried to force her muscles to relax. After an endless moment of waiting, a white-hot needle of pain flared in her left shoulder. Her breath hissed out between her teeth, and her nails dug into the padded spurs.
"Men have trials by combat, trials of thought, trials of reason. We are women, Hilde. We are defined by our suffering. It lives in our eyes, in our faces. It marks us, and gives us strength. This is a trial as excruciating as any faced by a man." Alessandra's hands moved in a slight undulation, and just at the edge of her hearing Hilde sensed the spell being woven. The other woman's fingers moved in punctuation to each flick and jab of the needle into the warlock's back.
"We must surrender our pain to achieve clarity. That is what this trial is about. You must focus on your past, on your grief, and the things that cause you anguish. As the needle draws the sword, so does the pain leech from our souls. The memories are faded toys that still can prick. It is time to lay them aside. Focus on them, face them, and cast them aside. The light gives us purpose and strength to overcome."
Hilde bared her teeth, her fingers gashing into the stuffing in a vain attempt to clench tight. Her left shoulder burned and ached in an ever-growing circle. Alessandra's hands folded in her lap, no longer giving her even that simple distraction. A blade squeaked against her flesh, blurring her vision in a haze of pain.
"Focus, Hilde. Focus on the past."