Unlike Camrynn, Yael is trustworthy though. Not that Straia necessarily minded untrustworthy people (she had allied herself with Eight, had she not?), but rather that when Yael tells her to close her eyes, Straia doesn’t worry about what might happen. She doesn’t worry that Yael will use this moment harm Straia – though why would she worry about that? Yael could kill her with a blink, but she wasn’t known for doing such. She doesn’t worry that they might plummet out of the sky. For starters, Straia could shift easily enough, could enlist a million ravens to catch her. And for the rest of it, she knows Yael can keep them afloat without wings at all.
Straia simply closes her eyes when told.
If death were to come for her, then it would find her no matter what. But it would not be at the hands (or hooves, she supposes) of Yael. Not today, anyway. Today, they were as friendly as protectors of opposing kingdoms could ever be. Not that Straia had issues with the Deserts, or vice versa, but simply that they two kingdoms have never stood for the same thing.
Yael picks her way into Straia’s brain, and the mare does not resist. Not that she could stop Yael, but she can make the process easier. She feels a bit lightheaded, but she leaves her mind open, letting the magician do her thing. And then, when she is told, she opens her eyes. The world is entirely different.
Straia has always known that the lands of Beqanna were alive. Not just because there’s a heart beneath the earth of the Chamber, but because every kingdom had it’s own personality. Every kingdom took care of the members that in turn took care of the land. Their magic comes from the land, and would die with it. But Yael sees the world as alive quite literally.
Straia can hear words on the wind, gossip and rumors and simply a quiet lullaby all at the same time. She can hear the movement of the animals far beneath them; can see the lines of power that run through the Deserts. It glows brightest in the magical entities that the kingdom possesses, though the web runs everywhere. “It is beautiful,” she says, not afraid to admit that. The Deserts is all sun and warmth and glitter, in a sense. It is different from her own shadowed, misty forest and the clearing. “Though I admit now I simply wonder what the Chamber looks like to you,” she chuckles slightly, but still, cannot help but admire the view. Straia might be a hell of a lot better of a horse if she saw the world like this.
Okay, she wouldn’t. But still, the thought must count for something.
straia
the raven queen of the chamber
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission