05-15-2015, 09:00 AM
Atrox had told her the Chamber is a cruel mistress. Even as a child, she had understood that, but only in the abstract sense. Life had not been that cruel as a child, and she didn’t see then (though she does now), that the first thing the Chamber took from her was her mother. She had only been a year old, when the Chamber started demanding from the Straia. One by one, she lost them all. Oksana, who couldn’t stay here with her changing wings, with Rodrik on the throne. Rodrik, though that is not the greatest loss, he is quite a powerful enemy to have made. Lucrezia, her only chance at having a sister in her life.
The Chamber had taken them all. Why? Because Straia needed only the Chamber, served only the Chamber. What did she need with family? Though there was still Kavi. The Chamber had not taken him, had given her this one tiny gift. For that, she was thankful. But she doubted that the Chamber had taken everything it planned to yet. She would live and breath and die for this kingdom. There was one part left. It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?
But it would be worth it, if she could succeed at all. Could rebuild the Chamber as something to be feared. Straia didn’t lust for blood or screams, necessarily. But she longed for those whispers in the meadow of the Chamber, enjoyed when her visits to other kingdoms set the members on edge. Evil in the literal sense of blood and death and destruction was so terribly predictable (not that she was opposed to a war or a raid or killing, don’t get her wrong). She simply wanted more than that. She wanted the power of fear behind her.
Straia is weaving through the pine forests when she catches sight of Warship. Her rather absentee General as of late. She understands needing some space, but her patience is beginning to run thin with him. She’s about to go wandering out to berate him when she catches the scent of another on the border. But this newcomer doesn’t wait. Instead she wanders into the kingdom (like wandering into a Venus fly trap, really), and Straia lingers in the trees longer, watching, keeping herself well hidden (it’s rather easy, when you know the pine forests as well as she does).
The mare finds Warship and keeps going toward him. Straia is still watching, though she’s also begun closing the distance, because she’s rather curious as to what this intruder might want. Finally, she comes out of the trees as the mare begins to speak, ears pricked forward to catch the words.
“The Chamber,” she says, coming up behind the mare with an easy grace akin to Straia. She has always been a mix of her parents, Arabian mostly in build but with some of her mother’s bulk, and it has worked well for the mare. She is beautiful in a way only someone completely unconcerned with her looks can be, wild and fierce and elegant all at the same time. “It is not always particularly advisable to go wandering into unknown territory in Beqanna. You never know what you might find.” She pauses for a moment, studying the mare before adding. “I’m Straia, Queen of this land you’ve so politely wandered into. And this is Warship, my General.”
The Chamber had taken them all. Why? Because Straia needed only the Chamber, served only the Chamber. What did she need with family? Though there was still Kavi. The Chamber had not taken him, had given her this one tiny gift. For that, she was thankful. But she doubted that the Chamber had taken everything it planned to yet. She would live and breath and die for this kingdom. There was one part left. It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?
But it would be worth it, if she could succeed at all. Could rebuild the Chamber as something to be feared. Straia didn’t lust for blood or screams, necessarily. But she longed for those whispers in the meadow of the Chamber, enjoyed when her visits to other kingdoms set the members on edge. Evil in the literal sense of blood and death and destruction was so terribly predictable (not that she was opposed to a war or a raid or killing, don’t get her wrong). She simply wanted more than that. She wanted the power of fear behind her.
Straia is weaving through the pine forests when she catches sight of Warship. Her rather absentee General as of late. She understands needing some space, but her patience is beginning to run thin with him. She’s about to go wandering out to berate him when she catches the scent of another on the border. But this newcomer doesn’t wait. Instead she wanders into the kingdom (like wandering into a Venus fly trap, really), and Straia lingers in the trees longer, watching, keeping herself well hidden (it’s rather easy, when you know the pine forests as well as she does).
The mare finds Warship and keeps going toward him. Straia is still watching, though she’s also begun closing the distance, because she’s rather curious as to what this intruder might want. Finally, she comes out of the trees as the mare begins to speak, ears pricked forward to catch the words.
“The Chamber,” she says, coming up behind the mare with an easy grace akin to Straia. She has always been a mix of her parents, Arabian mostly in build but with some of her mother’s bulk, and it has worked well for the mare. She is beautiful in a way only someone completely unconcerned with her looks can be, wild and fierce and elegant all at the same time. “It is not always particularly advisable to go wandering into unknown territory in Beqanna. You never know what you might find.” She pauses for a moment, studying the mare before adding. “I’m Straia, Queen of this land you’ve so politely wandered into. And this is Warship, my General.”
straia
queen of the chamber