The Chamber always comes first. Her son understands this, and has never been bothered that she chooses it over him. He does the same in return. Sometimes she wonders where exactly the boy came from, because he is unlike the family she has lost over the years. Her sister, mostly, who has never accepted that the Chamber always come first. Lu had left the Chamber in serve of it, but in the end, she stayed in the Deserts in service of that kingdom instead. The Chamber never held her little sister’s heart, and without it, Straia couldn’t keep her sister’s heart either.
Oksana had been a similar story, though it was a boy and not the Chamber that held her heart. Though now, with the tides shifted, with magic restored to the Chamber, Oksana could stay. Hopefully she would, though her adopted sister would perhaps never truly belong. Not without Makai, and Straia knows that Makai still wants nothing to do with this place. Straia can’t help but wonder if eventually, Oksana will go join him again. She still doesn’t know, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. Straia will stay, and that is the only constant.
She isn’t surprised when Erebor comes to find her in the pine trees. For one, the ravens have already told her of the strangely colored boy in the woods. And plus, their conversation was long overdue. Even without his gift, she is easy to find. She’s always in the trees, when time permits. Time rarely permits, except at night, and she seeks out the solace they have always provided her whenever she can. Not necessarily to be alone – oh, a Queen is never alone – but simply because there is no better place in the world. There never will be. As far as she’s concerned, the Chamber could bury her beneath the trees one day and she rotting corpse could fertilize them. She will give back to them what they have given to her.
“Erebor,” she says, chuckling slightly as he approaches. She reaches out and picks up a lock of bright blue hair with her teeth and then drops it on his neck again. “You look like Christmas threw up on you.” She grins, but there’s affection in the teasing as well. She does love her son, even if she never says it. But he knows, and that’s enough for both of them.
Then he asks the inevitable question, and she rolls her shoulders slightly. “I have no idea why ravens. And I’m not entirely sure where the gift came from. The Chamber, perhaps. Maybe Beqanna, though I would lean toward the Chamber. Hell, maybe I was born with it and never knew, because there’s never been a day in my life I haven’t served this kingdom. Though I doubt that theory.” That’s the truth of it. She doesn’t know entirely why she can do what she can do now. She simply knows that she can.
One of the ravens lands on her shoulder and caws. She nods, and it disappears again. “Infection has returned to the Valley. Shame he didn’t come back here. He ruled once, though Infection is as much a monster as Rodrik. I’ve only heard tales, though the raven’s tell me the tales are true.” The constant spies might be the most useful thing she’s gained here. She mostly uses real ravens as spies. They are older, they know things that her black magic ravens cannot know. Though those spies are useful as well, because they can see still everything.
Then, around them, the elemental ravens emerge. Some of made of shadow, some of light, some of fire and ice and earth. She keeps them smaller, so they can avoid the trees, but enough to show a demonstration. And then, raven wings grow from Erebor’s side and her own. “I don’t know the limits yet, except everything I do have something to do with ravens.” The wings disappear from their sides.
“And you?”
straia
the raven queen of the chamber
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission