i leave you my dust, and dry bones;

[Osyva]

ooc: please no 'zons, falls, or gates. open to all other kingdoms.<3

Morning comes slow. Feeble light peeks from behind the horizon, and the harsh night shadows begin to fade into gray. Early Spring frost glistens in the lazy light. She has always loved the morning. Not because of the hope that it brings. That ideal has long been snuffed out. But, because of the calm; the sense of solitude when the night creatures return to their shadows, and the rest of the world is not quite awake. She knows that soon the Field will be alive and bustling. Kingdom members will be scouring every corner for recruits. But, for now there is quiet, save the gentle rustling of yawning spring grass. Her return to the Gates, to the place she had always thought of as home, had showed her just how long she had been away. Her loyalty had never been to the kingdom itself, but to her father. Without him there, she was alien. No one remembered her. No one remembered the day the magic came quite like she did. In fact, no one remembered at all. Being there, touching the same ground where her father had disappeared… It only served to bring a bitter taste to her tongue. So, she waits here, amongst the gray of morning, for the vultures to come pick at what is left of her bones.

[Straia]

Straia is often awake this early in the morning. Not because, like so many, she dislikes sleep. Nightmares do not haunt her; terrors do not keep her eyes wide awake. She feels no remorse for the things she has done, and does not find that a constant barrage of guilty thoughts keeps sleep at bay. No, she sleeps just fine. But rather, there are things she could be doing. There’s so much more to life than sleep. And she does sleep, because it is necessary, because it keeps her alive. But she only sleeps as much as necessary.

Today, the ravens alert her to a girl in the field, there beneath the rising sun. She decides to go, because the Chamber is quiet, and even when it is not they do not need her. There are enough dedicated members that she no longer needs to be everywhere at once. Diplomatic greetings don’t require her presence; steals do not need her eyes on them (though the ravens are always watching). It’s amazing, really, how well the kingdom can operate without her constant presence. It’s a dream come true. Almost, anyway. They were almost where she wanted them to be.

Just a few more good bodies, and a few good shoves in the right direction, and the Chamber would be everything it should be.

She flies to the field in completely raven form, landing on the ground not that far from the palomino mare. Straia isn’t all that subtle, and even when she shifts back, she maintains the crown of feathers around her ears. Not because she cares if the world knows she is queen or not, but rather because she simply likes it. And Straia has never much cared what others think of her. She closes the distance between herself and the golden girl with a nod. “Straia, from the Chamber.”

straia

the raven queen of the chamber

image © Squirt

[Osyva]

ooc: @Straia - so sorry for the wait<3 

Vultures do not come, but rather a raven. The black bird seems strange amidst the muted grays, and twinkling yellows that play along the dewy grass. Even stranger still is the raven when it shifts into a painted mare. Osyva snorts warily, and looks around to see if anyone else had witnessed the transformation that had just taken place before her.  Magic. Alas, there is no one. No one to reaffirm what she has seen, save the black feather crown the other wears round her ears. This magic is different though. This magic she can see; not like the sudden, invisible pop that had stolen her father from right before her eyes. There is comfort in this thought, but not enough to keep her tail from swishing in sign of her discomfort. Surprisingly, this is all she allows to escape before she manages to collect herself again. She returns a gentle nod to the painted mare as the distance closes between them. “Osyva.” she offers in a voice filled with new resolve. No longer would she be the small, helpless filly that missed her father, and feared magic. At least, not on the outside. “Tell me about your home?”she asks with the faintest of smiles across her gray lips, because they both know why they are here. No need for idle talk, for soon the sun would burn off the coolness of the morning, and the flies would come to gnaw at their skin.

[Straia]

i am the violence in the pouring rain

i am a hurricane

She cannot make anyone disappear. She can kill them, certainly. Order the ravens to dispose of the body. Yes, of course she can do these things. But anyone can kill. Anyone can dispose of a body. Someone had done that very thing to her mother. It doesn’t take magic to make someone disappear, in a sense.

But she cannot pop someone out of existence. She doesn’t even know that she would (except perhaps her father), just as she isn’t sure she would actually kill anyone. Let others kill? Yes, she does. After all, she leads the Chamber. But her hands, metaphorically, are rather clean. It’s rather lovely, overall.

The mare introduces herself, a quick flick of the tail. Annoyance at the magic? Or something more like Straia’s own playfulness? It’s hard to tell, truthfully. It seems as though it could be either, because at her question the mare smiles a bit. Just enough, and Straia grins back. She’s always liked others that cut to the chase. No point in pretending they don’t know why they are here.

“It is my home, and so I am biased, but it is beautiful. In a very untraditional sense of that word. Shadowed and misty, but it protects us that way. And in return, there is a collection of horses determined to make the Chamber great, whatever that might mean. We aren’t a family in the huggy sense, but I do promise there’s always someone who has your back. But since I am biased, I also offer that you can come and look around and try it out. No one is going to make you stay, if it isn’t for you.”

If nothing else, there were less flies and more ravens in the Chamber.  

straia

the raven queen of the chamber