Fhenra moves in the human heart, inspires, and guides us to our ends. It decides, it does not waver, it pushes, it pulls, and falls only of its own accord. With emotions, it fills us and hollows us out. When we release it into the world, it is magic. When we keep it to ourselves, it is slow suicide. Through gnosis, it is animate. Through ignosis, it is a violence.
When Char first smothered Hyssthur’s flame with a kiss, Fhenra spitefully blew on her embers until she burned even brighter. Like this, it is gentle. When Char came toward it, Fhenra turned Char to bite his own tail. Like this, it is merciless. Fhenra is the fury of battle toward our ends, but the spite to get us out of the bed each morning and fight for every moment of life. This is why to be totally peaceful is also to commit suicide, and to be most alive is to be close to Char’s teeth and survive.
If Yagar is justice, Fhenra is vengeance. It is the One Who Will Not Chance. Fhenra controls, it plots. Its empathy is strategic. It projects itself onto the world, to predict its behavior. It creates behavior so that it is easier to predict.
Fhenra loves a maze. It loves people who move in its name, and despises all else. It is petty like that. But if you serve it, you will find a staunch defender. You will be horrified by the things it will do, in your name.