The Profane and the Sacred

There are two women in my life that could not be more different in their representation, but who gained a peculiar rank of my regard. It is not strange in the sense that my affection for either is inappropriate, but that it is unlikely. Both once held the status of someone not trusted, and changed that completely.

Mirtai, of course, began as my rival. As Viere’s favorite there was nothing holy about her. She existed for decadence and indulgence. She was never true, except perhaps for her devotion to him and loathing for me. And I was just as hateful to her in return. Our adversarial relationship Viere found amusing, and thus encouraged it. It was thoroughly toxic.

Nemeiah is not yet ordained but is by my estimation a priestess of the Light. One who displays compassion and purity of motivation, unpolluted by the evils of the world despite the magnitude and frequency of them. She had every reason to fear and chastise me as an aberrant death knight, and I had every reason to mock and scorn her as a Light-flinger. We could have caused severe spiritual damage to each other, had we behaved thus.

One embodies the sacred and the other the profane. And both I care for. Mirtai has accepted my power over her, unto life and death, and I defend her willingly. Nemeiah called me “Sis,” for I behave like an elder sibling engaged in the office of advising and shielding her from unsavory influences.

It is interesting to consider. If I was pressed for explanation, I believe it is because they know something about being forced into being what they are. And with this I find commonality. More than I have expressed to either of them.