"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
The Chamber had grown in leaps and bounds lately. She loved hearing the rustle of the branches, the sound of hooves hitting the dirt. No longer was she the Queen of Ash and Ruin. No longer was the Chamber burned to the ground, destroyed by the unnatural disasters that had wreaked havoc on Beqanna. The pine forest was growing back, and though many of the trees were still young, they stood tall and proud along the border of the kingdom. In the center, the seed planted by Beqanna was beginning to grow. There was always a raven beside the tree. She had appointed a guard, of sorts, for the tree. Should anything threaten the life of that tree, she would know immediately. Beneath them, Atrox’s heart beat stronger.
Some had taken her up on the open steals and challenges, but for the most part, the kingdom remained quiet. Beqanna remain quiet. Peaceful. And Straia found that she was beginning to grow restless. They had needed time to build, certainly. Time to recover from her father, from the volcano, from all the things that tried to tear them down. But that time had come and gone. They were more than capable now. And besides, she had a few matters of business to deal with.
She settles in beside the sapling, magical tree. It does not burn yet, though one day it will. One day the fires will show them all the possible futures. One day they will be able to understand what choices can lead to what outcomes. But for now, they must plunge on blindly. They must live without fear. And she doesn’t doubt that they will all do just that.
Once everyone arrives, she finally begins. “We have not formally met since Beqanna changed. As many of you know, and some of you perhaps do not, there are no more divisions in Beqanna, including the divide between mythical and non-mythical. The Chamber is just as magical as the Valley now. And as proof of that, we have this tree. While it grows, we are to care for it. When it is fully grown, the tree will burn in eternal flame. The flames will require a small blood sacrifice, but will show the future to those loyal to the Chamber.”
She pauses for a moment, knowing that for the most part, this is old news. There were enough new faces that she felt it necessary to go over the basics though. Once they’ve had a moment to digest this, she continues. “In addition, those holding certain ranks are granted traits. Warship, as our general, you can choose any set of horns that you like. You may gift two sets of wings as well for an airforce, and the type of wings is up to the horse receiving them. Though the decision is up to you,” She doesn't mention his fall from that title, nor the fact that there would be no third chance. She gave second chance, but no more. She turns to look at Warship, “I would like to recommend Killdare to receive a set of wings. Killdare, you have proven yourself loyal to the Chamber, and as such I am promoting you to colonel.” Should Warship fail again, she wanted a second in command capable of taking over. Just as Erebor was poised to fill in for her, she needed backups for the rest of her leadership as well.
She turns back to the group as whole. “Kavi, as our ambassador, has been given empathy. His second in command will receive invisibility, and I have decided to promote Engelsfors to that role. In Kavi’s absence, you will lead our peace caste. Remember, these traits are contingent upon you holding your current ranks.” Their ambassador had been busy with personal matters as of late, and she wanted to ensure there was a second in command. She would only be able to tolerate his absences for so much longer, Uncle or not. Engelsfors had proven herself capable of the job.
She turns her attention back to the group as a whole. “If anyone would like to join a caste, please let me know. In addition, I am opening up the Falls to steals and challenges, no longer friendly.” If the Falls has decided to harbor idiots like that stallion on their border, Straia wanted nothing to do with them. Besides, with Ana and Set lurking around, what need did the Chamber have for healing waters?
“Lastly, I believe we have grown stagnant. Beqanna as a whole has grown stagnant. I think we ought to consider stirring the pot. I am open to thoughts, suggestions, etc. Please feel free to voice your opinion on the matter.” And then she falls silent, waiting to see what they have to say.
08-12-2015, 07:35 PM (This post was last modified: 08-12-2015, 07:38 PM by Kushiel.)
So far the only one to greet me has been a child, and as I said, children aren't really my forte. So although I am not a blooded member of the Chamber the Queen's call to a kingdom meeting grabs my attention. I trot closer to the fragrant pine trees where a patched mare is standing next to a sapling. I am the first to arrive but others gather soon. I breathe in the deep, musky scents surrounding me, trying to learn each one. I want to know all I can. I stand among them, wondering absently if I will be called to account as a stranger.
I haven't met the Queen of the Chamber yet, but I've heard enough in bits and pieces to catch a small profile. She has ravens, for one. She's admired by many of her kingdom's inhabitants. And as she speaks, I can hear the passion she has for this place.
She sounds like my mother when she speaks of the Valley.
I release an inward sigh. I don't understand that kind of attachment to a place. To me, it's all dirt and plants, changing season after season, but belonging to no one. Allegiance to that is foreign.
Still, I admire Straia's purposefulness.
I listen as she explains the sapling, which seems to be common knowledge for most. Beqanna has changed much from the place my mother described to me as a child. I like it.
"What do you plan to do with them, once you steal them?" I speak, my voice steady. Most take my quiet tone and relaxed posture as a sign that I am weak, but they have made their first mistake when doing so. "I am Kushiel. I am interested in being of use, but I find little passion for an army that has no battles, or diplomacy if I must lie."
Not that I am above lying, but I hate small talk. And I don't see the point in pretending I like someone if I don't.
"I agree with you, Straia. This place needs change. The chamber seems active. Perhaps raids to kidnap the children of other kingdoms, to raise here as loyal Chamber members. Or raids just to fuck with the other royalty. From what I've seen, they are complacent."
The flames on my back leap eagerly at the thought. I have an ache for action, stronger than a desire for food or sex or water.
I wanted to leave something besides a blood trail,
besides prayers growing stale on my tongue.
Like a good dog, Cellar comes when she is called. She lifts her head when the queen's call reaches her and her legs do not hesitate to begin their movements. The distance is covered at a reasonable pace as thoughts drift through the serpent's mind. The gray girl's tail lashes behind her as she grows curious as to why they are all needed. Of course, a kingdom and its meetings are all foreign matters to her, but is an obedient thing.
Her eyes drift across the others as she settles near the back of the group in order to observe them with greater ease. All but few are strange to her. Cellar's attention is snatched away as Straia begins to speak. Those almost white ears turn to catch each word about the tree, about protecting the little sapling. She does not understand but she does not question the sort of magic that makes it so important to them. All that matters is guarding the fragile thing. The words 'blood' and 'sacrifice' intrigue her and so she tucks them away for later, when she may need them again.
Then there are names and titles, gifts she does not understand. They seem to be of little importance to her and so she patiently waits for more. Cellar has no idea what she would do with wings or horns, let alone abilities. Her simple burden is more than enough, she thinks.
She turns her head to the first stranger who offers up a question and then their name. Kushiel. The flames along his back briefly catch her eye before he's speaking again. A brief frown forms across her lips as he speaks of taking children from their homes. The memories of her stolen childhood are not so distant from her mind but she is quick to swallow such fear or apprehension. Still, she feels those barbs across her skin bristle nervously at the thought for a while longer.
"A stolen child will dream of home," she says in her usual soft tones, though each word is tinged with solemn memories. "I would prefer to take their females, make our own. Break their will and their bodies. Raise the children and tell them how weak their mothers were, how we saved them from that same weakness."
Her eyes drift to the queen as she finishes with a shrug of her shoulder. It does not occur to Cellar that this is a horrible thing to accomplish or even conceive. But they want strength and they want numbers, and she seeks to fulfill those wants.
I could give you my body, my flesh,
offer it up like a sacrifice, like a banquet.
(OOC: This is going to be a quick one and just full of speech as I'm in Costa stealing internet o_o]
IC:
'A blood sacrifice is little to ask for, with what I am sure it will bring to the Chamber.' I answer Straia's first comments about the sapling, before turning my head to look upon Killdare, a proud and somewhat affectionate gaze finding him. 'May the gods help those that scorn a winged Killdare.' my laugh is small, yet holds no malice nor contempt, a sly grin touches my lips before I turn my ears to listen to Straia's next statement, about Kavi and myself. 'I will accept that with honour, Straia. I will not let you or the chamber down.'
Others appear, they speak their views and for a moment I am silent before allowing my silver tongue to air. 'To steal children, as a new mother myself, is an act that I would not deem the wisest. For never is a woman far more scorned than having a child taken from her. And one might never know how they will retaliate. I know the Chamber is strong, but I don't think having a crowd of scorned mothers is the wisest choice.' I then turn my attention to the newest arrival who talks more about growing the chamber from the inside, with stolen mares. I nod. 'To grow the strength in numbers from the inside. To take mares that will carry the strength within, to teach those young from birth of the chamber's way. I understand conditioning, I have dealt with it myself, but nothing is like having a blank canvas from birth. I agree with you.' I turn to Cellar and nod, before directing my attention back to Straia, rolling my shoulders. 'I am in doubt that there will be many strong mares, so perhaps we will take what we can get. Break them a little -- there seem to be quite a few broken dolls around Beqanna, much easier to manipulate. Once we have build more numbers, perhaps, perhaps then we will consider more raids for the children...' I am silent then and offer a look to each chambering. quiet, respectful. They are my brothers, my sisters and my comrades. And I trust most of what they are to say...
08-13-2015, 01:03 PM (This post was last modified: 08-13-2015, 01:37 PM by Astri.)
What Is An Ocean But A Multitude Of Drops
She comes because she wants her face to be recognized amongst her peers. There’s nothing worse than committing yourself to a purpose and having no one distinguish you from the crowd. They mill around the painted mare and listen closely as she lays the diplomatic groundwork. A promotion here and there, a strategic swipe against the falls, and an open floor for those wishing to take the plunge in either caste. Astri listens with rooted interest, waiting while the other, more established members speak.
She sides with the idea of raids - but only to hold captives, not for stealing new broodmare potential or child snatching. The Chamber would make a much stronger name for herself if she instead defeated those who would defend the Falls. Weaken them by removing their muscle. Her queen was right when she spoke of breeding strength within. The Chamber would benefit from offspring of loyal, proud heritage. As for recruiting wayward strangers and breaking them into servitude … she had no opinion. Let the others who were more practised at such an art deal with that.
The rest draw into a comfortable silence and Astri speaks up, “My name is Astri. I’d like to commit myself to both available castes for now, and in time I’ll focus on whichever suits my abilities best.” Her eyes remain forward, as do her intentions. She’ll waste no time in getting her feet wet after losing ground with the straggler from the Falls.
It had been three years time now, since his first arrival to Beqanna. He was a much different man then, boy perhaps was a more apt word. He had come with a thirst for power, not that he didn't still desire it, but now he had much different reasons. He wanted to be powerful for the Chamber first and foremost, he wanted to serve his Queen with absolute purpose. He wanted to be strong for his family, to be a role model of all things he valued for his newborn son. He wanted to be great, for THEM for HER, the Chamber.
This meeting, it was long overdue, they hadn't had much time to gather since the fairy had visited. He emerged through the pines, a mass of earth tinted muscle behind Engel's glow of gold. Killdare was built solidly, an almost cumbersome girth. One that had plagued him with inconvenience upon his arrival to the forest, but he had come out on top, not one to easily give up. He had learned how to move through the wood, to slip past the totems without breaking them.
He took a place near the gilded female, eyeing the others respectively, many whom he hadn't met just yet. The smells though, so many rang with recognition in his mind, still others were faint whispers of their bases. Ones he would learn soon enough if they all stuck around, if they proved with their actions that they would stay. He listened closely, first to Straia, the sapling he knew well. Had come rushing through the copse upon its arrival that night, had also beheld the birth of the Queens gift. He would sometimes sing to the growing tree on his patrols, a haunting, faint baritone.
Of the wings he was appreciative, though he had always been wary of magic, and rightly so. He was just as pleased to recieve his new ranking, a light dip of his cranium in respectful acknowledgement. "I will accept that honor of I am to recieve it," a glance to the army leader, Warship. He wasn't the most intellectual member of the herd, but he had enough common sense to not play with fire so to speak. He was a creature of actions, not words and knowledge, not really. Already he had taken the Friesian from the Gates, a spiteful thing, dark was her mood to match her coat. Their terms with the Falls have ended, and he gives a quick nod of understanding at the news.
His sea-glass green eyes followed each who spoke in turn, focused on what they had to add to the discussion. After a time he too spoke, "I'll do as I am required, but I have no desire to father sons from those who are broken." He looked at Engel, though she probably had not meant him specifically. He would be shamed to sire children from those weak of body or mind, he didn't agree, but he would preform all duties asked of him."I am not against stealing foals, the young can be convenient pawns to gain desired outcomes."He took from Straia's speech that she was not content with the way things were going, and that they had all better 'man up'. They would not invoke fear with mere steals for captivity, a meager years sentence. He would keep those thoughts to himself for now, something he may discuss in private with Straia later. They need seek the sweet meat, perhaps he could pay his darling sister a visit. He had news she and another, Branka, had become some sort of 'all mothers' to a diabolical group of children. A fair lot of them had his sisters sadistic nature, all thanks to their late father, the Iron Giant.Khaos.
He has been absent. Away from them, but not because he wished it – because it was necessary. Because he was in the process of becoming, in the process of evolving into something more (better?) He had been the Prince of Ash and Ruin, but he had become the Lord of Heat. And it had been necessary to remove himself, to tuck himself away for the duration, lest he accidentally BBQ an unsuspecting Chamber member while growing into his powers.
But no more. He hears his mother's call, echoing out across the Chamber. He is far from her, far from their gathering place. But thankfully, that's not a problem for him. Not anymore. With a thought he bends the heat around his body, manipulating the energy gently, creating the exact right kind of updraft—
Allowing him to quite literally float into the meeting, buoyed by his little pocket of hot air.
He offers them all a crisp nod. He has chosen to fly in as an expedient, a mere logical thing to do, not because he believes himself superior or wishes to impress. If he will impress, he will do it through his dedication to the Chamber, his hard work and his fighting skill. Augmented now, no doubt, but at its core, much the same.
His mother speaks then, and he listens with the focused intent of a soldier being given orders by his commander. He thinks back to the moment of the tree's planting, how he had arrived (fresh from a quest) at just the right moment, how she'd been changed too. It had been quite a day.
She moves on to promotions then, and he agrees completely with each. Killdare and Engelsfors have proven themselves to be more than able and loyal servants to the Chamber, and he doesn't doubt they've been more worthwhile to the kingdom than he since his return from the quest. He is half surprised that Straia does not strip him from his rank as Lord. God knows he hadn't deserved it recently – it doesn't matter that his mastery of his powers had required his absence, and that the mastery had always been for the betterment of the Chamber. He hadn't been recruiting, he hadn't been interacting much with the others, and therefore, in his mind, he had been less than worthy.
His interest is further piqued when she opens the Falls, and announces what he thinks they've all been thinking: that it's time to kick some hornets' nests. The Chamber is a kingdom of strength now, and it's time to make that strength felt. He agrees entirely, but he wants to let the others voice their opinions first.
They jump to a strange subject – stealing of mares and foals – and Erebor finds himself confused. It's not that he has a moral objection to it; on the contrary, he couldn't care less about that. It's more that he worries about the practicality of it. Where do loyal Chamberlings come from? How had they grown so far? It had not been on the backs of the stolen, and it certainly had not been on the backs of the broken.
"Those who are broken rarely heal back to their full strength." his voice is rich and dark. He should know about broken things – he's the rare one who had healed, who had been literally broken (his plastic body fractured by a stranger in a quest-land that may or may not have existed) and come back stronger from it. But he is rare, and he knows it. "And those who are forced rarely come to love those who do the forcing."
He pauses then to look out at all of them, faces new and old alike. "The Chamber deserves to be feared for the power we wield. We should strike at a strong kingdom and prove our worth in battle. Show them that we are more than just ascendant, we are dominant." he pauses, a small smile flickering on his lips as the heat flickers across his body. His eyes seek out each of them in turn, his handsome voice stirring and earnest. He speaks from his heart, speaking his conviction. There is nothing of ego in it. He is purely a creature of the Chamber, working for nothing but its betterment. "Let our ranks grow because we are so feared that other horses will not approach prospects in the field if a Chamber horse is already present. Let them keep their mares and their foals, or let other kingdoms and herds send them to us for protection because our superiority is so certain." Heat flicks across his black coat like tarmac on a hot summer's day, but it is contained – none near him will feel it.
And just as suddenly, the heat is gone. "I propose we show our strength in a fair fight. We want to be feared, not hated;" he pauses, looking at them. "Hated, they will do anything they can to depose us and ruin us. Feared, they will give us everything we desire, and never think seriously of defeating us, because they will know it is impossible." his smile is tight, mirthless. "We are more than an equal of any kingdom in Beqanna. It's past time they know it." This time, the fire is in his eyes, rather than the heat being across his body.
"As for who we should target, well, I don't think it much matters. Probably not the Valley or the Falls, they aren't strong enough to put up any kind of fight. But beyond that…so long as we consider how we're to start the battle, and how the kingdom we attack is allied – or not – with all the others so we know the political fallout, any of them could be a good target."
He flicks his tail (such a strange mix of deep blue and forest green) against his black haunches. "Killdare, Engelsfors," he meets their eyes nods to each in turn, "Congratulations, your new ranks are well deserved." And it's heartfelt – Erebor knows that they have more than earned it. He turns to the others, some of whom have introduced themselves and some of whom have not. "For those of you I haven't met, welcome to the Chamber. I'm Erebor, and it is my honor to serve in both castes, and as Lord of the kingdom." There is no arrogance in his voice, no ego and no pride – just a calm statement of what is, and who he is. Let them make of it what they will.
Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate the lives of everyone you know. And
what's the worst you take from every heart you break? And like
the blade you stain, well, I've been holding on tonight.
The shadow child had been approached by three intriguing individuals who had made his decision rather difficult. But it was the idea of a growing kingdom rising up from the ashes which had fostered a desire within him. Not to mention, the chamber had already long made him curious from the get go. He knew of Makai’s odd connection to the kingdom (though not the actual details) and he knew of Oksana’s ties to the chamber as well. It seemed to be a kingdom which fostered strong ties and instilled passionate loyalties (a beating heart which rested within its embrace is evidence enough).
And so the shadow child’s appearance in this unknown kingdom goes unnoted by the crowd of horses who had gathered around a small sapling which tenaciously held a rather large raven within its branches. Michaelis never claimed to be anything but a curious sort and he couldn’t help but make his way over to the group. He notices the one familiar face in the crowd and gives a small nod to Engelfors in greeting. Perhaps he could converse with her in length at a later time. Now was the time for feeling out and observing the others which called this kingdom home.
He didn’t feel it was appropriate for him to insert any of his thoughts into the general conservation just yet. It was better for him to see how the others interacted and thought before he felt he could truly contribute to his new chosen home. The shadow child preferred to think before he acted, especially when it came to things of a strategic nature. It was much better to remain relatively unnoticed by the others for right now.
His only contribution for now would be his name and his intended purpose.
“I’m Michaelis. You can throw my lot in with the diplomatic side of things.”
She calls, they come. One by one lining up before her. The Chamber ghost is one of the last, lurking on the outskirts of the group but listening all the same. The shadow raven Straia had given him to deal with the pesky Fall’s stallion still clings sharp claws on to his shoulder, drawing small beads of blood. He’s grown accustomed to it’s company and although it is not real, he is loathe to part with it. Quite useful this little fellow who does his every whim and watches where he cannot. Both bird and horse listen to the Queen with interest. This tree thing was new to him and he looks in the direction of the sapling with new interest. A flaming tree eh? He was sure he could help with the blood sacrifices, his little broken trinkets would be perfect for the cause if they failed elsewhere.
Then it’s usual kingdom business, promotions and all that. He tunes out here knowing he’s not part of this and instead takes his time to eye the others. Faces he has seen around but doesn't know the names of. It might bother some to not be on a friendly basis with everyone but he would get to know the important ones in time. The mention of the Falls brings his attention back and he snorts with approval, the thought of Chezter making his skin twitch with irritation all over again. It’s the last statement that really makes him perk with interest. More so the phrase… Stirring the pot. ”You can put me on the war side. Actually put me wherever you think I would serve best.” A slight shrug as he meets Straia’s gaze, she knew what he could offer, what he could do for the Chamber. He would leave the decision in her capable hands.
”And what of the Gates? I find an interest there.” She surely knows why. He is quiet for a moment before speaking once more. ”I was around when the slave pens were built and they were quite fun. However they didn’t have the full effect of…” A pause, what was it the other stallion had mentioned? Oh yes, those being broken not returning to full strength. ”Breaking one down. Perhaps there is another way to make a captives stay less… Pleasant.” He lacks magic to make such things happen or he would simply pop things off himself. Visions of chains and blood dancing in his head. ”Perhaps in order to leave they will have to find there way out. An obstacle course of sorts. One where they won’t make it out unscathed in some way.” It’s just one idea of many. He wonders if he should mention the fact that he had started a herd at this point but he knows that Straia probably already knows, ravens seemed to line the trees in his new territory, but perhaps he could use his new harem to the Chamber’s advantage as well. Just another thing he would leave up to her.
Do you believe you're missin' out?
That everything good is happening somewhere else?
I am late. Again and again, over and over, repeat.
I am absent. Not forever but for long enough.
I am perhaps not a failure, but no longer suited to the task set before me.
She calls, I come. Not first – never first – but I am there nonetheless, drifting in the background as Her Majesty speaks. It’s been strange having my niece rule over me, though only in theory. In truth, she is patient. Too patient. I have been found wanting, and instead of pushing me away Straia has accepted my ultimatum: family comes first. This alone is why I am still a member of the Chamber, as this is where a small part of my family resides. As miniscule gray hairs creep into the sooty end of my nose, however, I come to realize that all I am good for now is just that: a member. There are others who deserve this empathy far more than me.
I listen attentively to all that is said, and while some makes me cringe, most is simply business. Gryffen slips into silence, and in the wake of his words, I raise my voice (which bears for the last time an important note).
“I would call on everyone to remember that not only has the magical playing field been levelled, the stigmas of light, neutral and dark have been as well. We do not have to commit evil acts to live up to our name anymore – we are what we make of ourselves.”
Looking solely to Straia now – who radiates a mixture of impatience and disappointment – I lower my Arabian head humbly. “While I am thrilled to have this Empathy bestowed upon me, I find myself unable to fulfil the role of Governor. It is with a heavy heart that I step down from the position, and relinquish this Empathy…” My amber eyes flicker towards the general direction of the flaming tree, though the glance does not last. “I would be honoured to remain as a member of the Chamber, and serve when I may. This is my home, and as of late, I have found a fascination in the Tree.”
The empathy drains from me slowly, and suddenly I am only aware of how ashamed I am of myself. Yet with a step into the background, I remind myself that at least I stepped down with dignity. Throughout the rest of the meeting, I listen, but my eyes remain fixed on what I image to be a flame off in the distance.
