Barrow Fields Let's go back, back to the beginning

He objects at first, and she chuckles softly at his question. 
"I have been training since I could walk. My mother's milk was laced with herbs that allowed me to understand the spirits, until I could talk to them freely." 
Perhaps she was mad. But it was a pleasant madness. A comfortable madness. It gave her a sense of comfort and importance. 
"Look into my eyes." She stared deep into his own orbs, the spirits whispering, whispering, whispering. 
Finally, she broke the connection. 
"You have traveled a long way. From far to the north. A land of ice and sea. You were not always alone...you had a lover. One you deny even to yourself. You left him when he needed you most." She paused, watching closely for his reaction. 
"As for your future...I do not see fame or glory. Your importance will lie in the lives you touch, rather than the actions you perform. There is a lover, fated to die young, not of this world. The spirits know her too. Yes, they know her very well."