[private] Straia;

[Straia]

sometimes we want what we want --
    -- even if we know it’s going to kill us.

A figment of the past. How true and how sad, lost to the sands of time. Her name has been lost to history, swept under the rug with the loss of the Chamber. It was never her name that mattered though, it was the Chamber’s. She’d created a land that was feared and hated, a land who’s name was said in whispered tones so as not to be overheard. Like calling upon a spirit, the Chamber knew. Really, her ravens knew, a million eyes scattered around Beqanna, but who noticed a raven sitting quietly in the trees? They were perfect little spies, perfect little weapons.

Life without the Chamber would never quite be the same, but there would be another land that sought what she knew how to provide. There was always someone who sought infamy, who craved chaos for the sake of chaos, who craved power through fear, who wanted to know that their name brought a hesitation to the lips of those who spoke it. They would remember her name again, and perhaps, she would lift others up with her.

They find her slowly. She made an entrance, but unlike the one who’d already called to them, Straia was bidding her time. There were duties that came with the power Beqanna had given her, she knew, but that didn’t need to be yet. First, she needed to relearn this land. It was not the she had paid no mind to the things happening in Beqanna, but she’d paid very little. It wasn’t important, wasn’t worth her time then, but now. Well, now is entirely different.

The next to find her is the sort that catches her attention. Embers burn in his chest, not quite a fire, but the kind of ashes that will catch with only a breeze. His words make her grin, that Cheshire grin that’s she’d had since she was a child. It has grown colder, more calculating, and less mischievous than it once was, but it still hers. That twist of the lips, one corner slightly more than the other, something knowing and unreadable. “No. Are you here to remedy that problem?” she asks, her voice amused.

He is clearly not the sort to kiss her feet, and in truth, those are not the sort that she would ever respect. But still, he started, and she can hardly resist. The next part seems more like what she might expect from him, from the way he carries himself, from the way he speaks. He reminds her so much of herself in many ways. “I am curious of the same about you.” For a moment, she debating showing off her newfound power, but all the magic that Straia has commanded she has never been showy with it. She wields it without hesitation, but she rarely shows off. Better to keep her cards close and play them when they are most advantageous.

His final question hits like a knife, twisted in her gut. Not that she is surprised, and it doesn’t show on her face, but oh how strange to not be known by, at the very least, the raven’s already nearby. The one of her should seems like such a giveaway, but then again, so very much time has passed. “Straia. And you?” 

-- straia

the raven queen

@[Castile]