Technically, I have met Enya 'for the first time' three times. Our very first meeting was when she was born. She was tiny, curled up in the bosom of her mother who she so resembled, a near carbon copy. The most adorable of miracles. The Silverash couple had prayed for her, praying with all their heart that blessings, health, and everything bright and beautiful they could think of would fall into her lap. Across the bed, a young boy, only slightly older, struggled to stand on his tiptoes. His outstretched finger was grasped by the babe, leaving an innocent smile on his face. The second time was when I saw her during the Saintess selection, and heard her voice amidst the devoted, humble prayers. An interesting voice. I noted how different it was, and saw a fleeting chance. Long had it been since the Snow Realm saw one with such anger, with such a lively, raging heart. With the winds of Kjerag enveloping her at every turn, she would surely go further and do better. I knew that the melting snow would drip upon her nose, for what Kjerag needed was a Saintess who stood above the crowd. As for the third, final time, I was the head handmaiden by her side, recommended to her by the elders of the Vine-Bead Court. At the time, I was already rather familiar with her, and regarded her with dearest curiosity. She, for her part, greeted me politely, maintaining her stiff, unnatural posture. Of course, Enya was never a timid child. Her many particularities soon made themselves apparent, and with each passing day, we got closer and dearer to one another. Until the time came to say goodbye, as she held my hands tight, asking question after question. I could not help but be reminded of her mother. A Feline from Victoria. She loved to pray, but unlike the veneration of the people of Kjerag, she used her prayers more as a diary, pouring out everything going on in her life. I heard about how her children grew, about all her joys and elations, and amidst that joy, a thread of compassion. She said, 'Kjeragandr above, if I must leave my children one day, I ask that you guide them. If they ever stand alone upon this land, lost and confused, support them and show them the road ahead through the ice and snow.' Prayers were never certain to come true. Most times, it is the efforts of people that are more important. By the time I had come to Kjerag's border, the Court's reforms and the Saintess's edicts had finally reached even a countryside herder boy. He asked me inquisitively: 'What is studying? Do I need to do it too? Will they teach me how to read? Can I be like those researchers I saw a while back, staying in a nice big house while looking at the stars?' The chill wind blew away the dusting of snow on his shoulders. I did not look back. I knew the child who once grabbed hold of my finger, bound in her blanket, had taken her first teetering step. If I were still by Enya's side, she would most likely be rather pleased with herself, and ask me if I liked these changes. Oh, Enya, my sweet Enya. The little burdenbeast who dared to jump the fence, of devoted heart and stalwart spirit. The road ahead shall open up for you, and my blessing shall be with you forevermore.