Maia
Maia read the letter in her hand, and for the first time in years, felt anger. Anger at her own stupidity, anger at his betrayal, anger at her insane waste of time.

She crumpled the letter and almost immediately, straightened it out again. Maia needed to read it again. And again.

It was nothing new, this letter. Again, he broke her heart with a few lines of meaningless words, callously thrown together to justify the umpteenth time her heart would be torn from her.

To Maia, this would be the last time she would ever fall into his trap again. Very, very last time. Oh, the foolish vows of one so spurned.

In half a year, all seemed forgotten. Maia was smiling again in his arms. She did not pause for a moment to wonder why. It was as if time had not existed for the last 6 months for her. Everything was inconsequential. Nothing mattered. But this was only for her, silly Maia.

In the last 6 months, he had fallen in love with someone else. He said he would never, but lies, all lies. For reasons known only to him, he disregarded Maia's already broken soul, and drew her in like a moth. Perhaps it was a flaw of men, to feel a need to possess all. Mercilessly, he possessed Maia.

As with all lies, the truth would prevail. Suddenly, Maia's eyes opened. And the pain of the years of betrayal poured down upon her without remorse. There was only so much pain her wrecked soul could take.

With a sigh, and but a single tear, Maia left him forever. He might never know she did, he might never know why. Maia needed to leave, to never again to be trapped. Her vows, oh foolish vows, must never be broken again.

Looking upon the horizon, Maia headed for the highest mountain. And there, she seeked refuge with a reknowned herbalist and devout nun. Maia's unwavering devotion to the art and the religion moved her mistress, and within a year, was a full fledged sister of the order.

Maia made her final vow in the name of the art, and this vow, she must never break.