the perfect storm; Straia

[Camrynn]

so you wanna play with magic?

If there is one thing she hates – HATES – it is being out of control.

And so it is that as she heads to the Chamber, she is almost snarling to herself. Internally, mind you – externally her expression is as diplomatic as it's ever been. The walls around her mind are tight like iron, locking away anything within. It wouldn't do for the world to know things that she didn't want them knowing, things like her current feelings about the Gates incident.

She is furious at Yael. Sure, the mare had tried to take precautions. But how successful would invisibility be? Magicians are a dime a dozen these days – she really should speak with Set and Anaxarete – and they could probably feel the magic like a whirlpool. Besides, who else would really be in a position to transplant a monsoon? That's a pretty short list, and most of the horses on it would have no interest whatsoever in fighting the Chamber.

Except Evrae. Evrae is always a wildcard, but Camrynn suspects that she'd err on the side of chaos, and Camrynn equally suspects the whole of Beqanna knows that.

And so it is that the black queen presents herself on the borders of the Chamber. Sure, she's got other places she really needs to be, and other conversations she needs to have, but thanks to Yael this has been moved directly to the top of her happy little list.

She is beautiful in the early winter sunlight. Her black coat shines, her mane and tail long and luscious, gleaming with vitality. Across her chest the crook and flail of the Deserts gleams proudly, shimmering and golden. Across her left cheek, a string of diamonds trails. And her eyes – today they're a clear blue, clear as the winter sky.

She is entirely unsurprised to see a raven perched on a nearby tree. She nods her head to it, a diplomatic greeting. "If you would, please tell Queen Straia I'd like to speak with her." She pauses for just a fraction of a moment. "I owe her an apology."

Beqanna is delicate right now, delicate like kindling just before it goes up in flames, delicate like the knife's edge, balanced for just a second before it all tips over. The Deserts may not have the numbers of the Chamber or the Valley, but they've got two magicians, and Gumby besides. They won't be conquered, they won't be destroyed. She isn't here to bargain for the life of her kingdom, which is a happy thing. Instead, she's here to help determine where her kingdom fits in the greater scheme of things. She'd like them to come out of this more powerful, of course – who wouldn't? – but she hasn't exactly decided how to do it. It's so annoying when she cannot see the future because the present is still so shifting and tumultuous.

Shifting, tumultuous, and full of possibilities.

CAMRYNN

co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery

[Straia]

The raven doesn’t move. It doesn’t need to. Straia can see through its eyes and hear through its ears, and so she knows. She is sorely tempted to leave Camrynn standing there for a while, just as a silent punishment. No, Straia doesn’t know. But she has her suspicions. There are only so many magicians in Beqanna. Eight likely would have sided with the Chamber, or just stayed out of it. Prague maybe would have helped, but the Amazons have no alliances and she doubts that Prague would run off and just go help the Gates because. Maybe, Prague is an option. But she’s an unlikely one.

There’s always Errant. He’s kind enough to help, but again, she doesn’t think he’s actually likely to do so. Camrynn, who is likely to do things because she can, but unlikely to do something like make the Deserts the Chamber’s next target. Sure, the Deserts may have magicians, but so does the Chamber. Sure, the Deserts may be well guarded, but the Chamber is well armed. Could they destroy the Deserts as easily as the Gates? No, of course not. Could they damn well do some damage? Without a doubt.

There’s also Evrae and Carnage. Both of them were old, plenty powerful enough to do something like move a monsoon. But Carnage is about the last horse in Beqanna to stop destruction. And Evrae? Well she’s the wildcard. She comes and goes and does as she pleases, but from the stories, it’s unlikely to be her as well.

And then there’s Yael. It’s a shame, because Straia almost liked the golden mare. Almost. But she is goody-goody enough to go save the Gates because she could. Because playing Goddess is probably fun. And so while she cannot know for sure, Straia thinks she knows.

And then Camrynn offers an apology, and Straia, being Straia, takes it as an admittance of guilt.

She doesn’t make the black magician wait, though she doesn’t rush. She weaves through the trees easily, finding the mare with her many markings and sky blue eyes. There’s little to adorn Straia other than the crown of raven feathers on her head, but Straia has never needed much to be impressive. She doesn’t gleam like Camrynn, but wears scratches from the trees like armor, her mane and tail wild. She is beautiful because she does not try, does not care. She has never needed to gleam to turn heads.

Straia though finds, as annoyed as she is that magicians insist upon pretending to be Gods, that she is not boiling with anger. But of course, she has always been calm and cool and collected. Why? Because revenge is a dish best served cold. She does not forget. But she does not claw and rage and froth like many in the Chamber.

A dancing raven sits in the forefront of her mind, blocking the rest of her thoughts. It’s a great little trick she’s discovered, keeping prying minds out of her own prying mind. “I hear you are looking for me,” she says simply, and then nothing more.

straia

the raven queen of the chamber

image © Squirt