a homecoming - straia, anyone

[Erebor]

We are at war. There will be scars.

If he thought he was attuned to the Chamber before, he knew nothing.

His knowledge previously is nothing compared to how he sees it now. He can almost feel the way the heat radiates off of the new bodies, the way that the air currents ripple, bringing subtle temperature changes as they go. He feels it almost as soon as his mother's ravens would see it. But this time, it is not simply someone wandering in across the border. This time, the ripples come right from the center of the kingdom.

He comes to her, joining their little party, taking his place beside his mother. He must look strange, although perhaps not to the magic mare. He is currently a wine-red with a mane and tail of dark blue and dark green. He still holds himself with the same strong military bearing he's always had; beneath his wine-red color, he's still the same servant of the Chamber, the same clean-cut soldier-boy that he's always been. Except that he's been broken beyond reason, and has endured. He's seen horrors that should be impossible, and come through unscathed. And now? Now he can read the way the heat eddies and flows around them all. He can make the air burst into flames. He, it would seem, can command the heat.

Anaxarete seems different from the rest of them, as though hot and cold both dance around her in a way that they don’t with normal horses. He's still no expert in his newfound gift, unable to quite parse what it means, but he's certain that it doesn't mean anything normal. Normal is Engelsfors, or Killdare, or Straia (most of the time, when her ravens aren't too elemental. The elemental ravens throw the whole thing off).

His mother speaks, naming the mare, and Erebor considers her politely. He doesn't remember her name from any of the stories, and his memory is normally quite sharp. But his mother seems to know her, and she seems to know the Chamber, and whatever she's doing here doesn't seem to be with bad intentions. And that's enough for him. "Welcome home." his voice is rich and handsome, the kind of voice that any hero should have. But he's no hero; his morality is the Chamber, his mission is to serve her. "I'm Erebor. A pleasure to meet you."

Erebor

Native Prince of the Chamber

warship x straia