Ha. Rodrik stepping down? That’s a hilarious thought. He would have sat on the throne forever, if the Chamber had been content to let that happen. And maybe it would have, if not for Straia, because there had been no one left but Kavi, Warship and herself after the volcano. Rodrik showed his face only briefly, but mostly he disappeared and let the kingdom fall into ruin. Literally. The trees had burned, the earth had been scorched. No one called the Chamber home except a few of them. And even Kavi stayed more for Rodrik and than the Chamber.
So Straia took the throne. Overthrew his father. Traded him to the Valley for support in the overthrow and an alliance. And look how far the kingdom had come. They were strong and thriving and Beqanna remembered their name again. Whispered it with trepidation and hate. The ravens mentioned this time and time again, knowing it pleased their master.
And oh, it did.
Today, the ravens tell her of the gray mare by the creek. She seems familiar, they say. Not that the ravens know her. Rather, they mean she seems to know the land. Straia has gotten rather good at interpreting their broken words. Or perhaps that reality is her magic is getting better at translating raven caws. There’s only one gray mare that Straia has ever known here, other than Ana. And the ravens know her to be different, and they do not call Ana a mare.
It couldn’t be.
But of course, it is. Straia takes a deep breath before approaching, long since tired of this feud they’ve had for too many years. She’s ready to move on, though who knows if Kindling feels the same. “Kindling,” she says, coming to a stop before the gray mare. Straia still looks like Straia, wild and beautiful, though she wears the crown of raven feathers on her head. Kindling may or may not like that one, but Straia isn’t about to change for anyone either. “It’s been quite a long time. How can I help you?”
straia
the raven queen of the chamber