Once there was a Ronin, a masterless samurai wandering the land. This warrior was both poet and scholar in addition to being matchless with his skill, and needed neither home nor companion as he traveled over the land learning and teaching those who would listen.
At the same time there was a Princess in a castle in the far North. She dwelt in the cold lands, sheltered away from the harsh realities of the world and protected behind moat and walls with all of her material needs met. Peerless was her beauty but restless her heart, locked away as she was.
One day the Ronin wandered into the Northern Kingdom. He was pursuing one of the things that gave him pure joy, chasing the sunset and wished to experience the cold wind contrasted with the flaming sky over the mountains. As the heavens erupted with colours and the clouds danced in the wind that whipped him, he felt alive as few others can. In the distance he caught a glance of the Princess on the parapet, her hair as part of the blaze in the air. For a moment he knew not if he gazed upon goddess or mortal, imagination or illusion but then felt for the first time in decades a stirring in his breast. As in the moment of battle, time nearly froze for the Ronin and all was slow and clear: the grey stone of the castle wall, the curve of her cheek and the strands of hair floating impossibly slowly in the whipping wind as the sky burned overhead. Each heartbeat lasted an hour as he gazed upon beauty unlike any he had seen in his wide travels, and in that moment of eternity satori came to him, enlightenment from the most unlikeliest but loveliest of sources.
The Ronin felt desire for the first time since his youth.
Simultaneously the Princess caught site of the stranger from her perch on high, a caged bird imagining the wind on her face beneath her wings, trying to fly away from the boredom and guards keeping her prisoner to wealth and ennui. The warrior on the road, alone and free beyond the walls and restrictions, able to roam the land free sent a shudder through her; not cold from the wind but like the crackle of the storms she craved. In the moment between heart beats the nameless one on the road entered her heart like none had.