Vivainne, in this same time, was at searching for the great winds. And all that came to her mind, a great mountain that arose about and above the clouds of snow and where no trees could find their home.
All day and some of the nights she travelled, up through the little feet hills, up to the knees of the great mountain. Now and then she covered herself all round with fur and great cloaks to come there, she rode up until the horse could do no more up. Then she slung her satchel of broken words across her shoulders and climbed, first by foot alone and then by hand, from grip to grip, until in a lasting time she came upon the peak, girt all about by precipice and ice, where the winds had the world as their plaything.
Next, as the winds tried their best to pitch her headlong, she tied the words of her pack upon some great flags, and hoist them high into the wind’s favourite places, as if to deliver a library.
Then she covered herself all over with her great cloaks which were soon white with snow and settled to remain while words came clean.
The winds, so, so, strong, tore at the flags and ripped the surfaces of the words, cleaning the malice and misuse from their faces. Unfortunately, on one flag the winds tore away one word, the word ‘escabunter’ for which the meaning has never been rediscovered. To some this is a sad thing, but in the grand scheme it is not, if you are short of words, make one up.
By now Vivainne ley snug under her cloaks in a fine pile of snow and so that when the creature of the mountain came crawling up, he or she could not discern the knight at all. The creature looked hard at her or his new flags to know them and not being of the educated style of beast could make of the words there nothing but design. She or he, let’s say they, picked a flag as if to play. Straight, sudden, soon, Vivainne lifted up from the snow pile that she had become and the creature, most timid, jumped high to the air and was blown away, still clutching a flag of words.
Vivainne flung herself into the void in pursuit of the creature and the errant flag of words which must not be lost. She fell for three days and when she landed, she fell upon the creature where they lay and as the creature was the size of a small house and soft with fur and furriness about, she landed most comfortable. The creature had left go the flag in its haste and left the scene. Vivainne then took the flag away and returned then to the summit where the most flagged words had become clean and usable once more. That is why, ever after, the words on the fallen flag were not quite so shiny as the others.
Vivainne, down the mountain in the warm places once more, held and looked for and found her horse who was waiting with a patience. So afterwards they rode out to the forest which might be dark with strips of sunlight here and there. She, Vivainne must return in one year to the trysting place to make the words whole with their colleagues once again and again. So, as she had come only one or two months to the mountain, she made for her castle, where she might renew her love for Ser Constance once more, if fate allowed.
As she went, she sang her songs in the forest, seeing the strips of sunlight pass, until she came to an old building wherein the stones had part fallen, but the roof still above.
I shall rest here the evening and sing, she thought to herself.
She sat by her cooking some food she had found, with a song, when out from the trees came a woman who was not fully formed. Her dress and limbs were mixed with the trees and her hair flew upwards like leaves in the wind.
Hello woman, said Vivainne, are you in need of my help or just my company.
The woman shook her head, her hair flew, I am in need of your song, she said, and her voice sounds like from a deep part of a cave. This many years I have lived enchanted in this forest that can only a song come to my aid, she continued, but I may, I can, I will, for it, the song, give payment that is in my remit. If you can give me your song, then I can make you secure for all the time on.
That sounds a fair bargain, said Vivainne in reply, take my song to make you whole again and then I secure for all time on, will be.
Then you must into the building, said the woman and send your song forth that I may be with song.
Vivainne entered in the broken house and sent her song outside to the woman who is waiting.
When the song was finished the woman became whole and her hair went down instead of up.
Thank you, said the woman and went away. Now when Vivainne came to leave the stone house she might not. Neither the door, nor the window, nor the chimney, nor the roof, would let her pass, try as she might. When she came to sing, she could not, neither note nor tune would be hers.
The Guardians of the Cave 