is this the end of everything?
STRAIA
or is it just a new way to bleed?
The effect of her words is interesting. A command yes, but not the sort of command that couldn’t be ignored. No, Straia rarely gave such commands, but rather...let’s call them suggestions, shall we? That’s a far more accurate term really. They are good suggestions though, the sort you ought to seriously consider. No good mare bends a knee to anyone, except in pretense. No good mare apologizes for mere curiosity, for a desire to learn. And Straia, for all her faults, could not help but groom those around her that needed some grooming. A bit of coaxing to turn a timid, controlled mare into something far more dangerous.
”Greta, she drawls, tasting the name with a slight cock of her head at the way the girl introduces herself. ”You can answer to whatever you want, dear child. Tell me, who is your father?” Another command, perhaps, though Straia knows no other way to speak. She was born a princess, bred to be a Queen, and a Queen even when she ruled no land. Lands were not the only sort of power one could attain, after all.
Straia simply inclines her head as Blasphmare mentions that they all have good and evil within them. ”Some would call me evil, but in the end, it simply depends on how you view the world.” She certainly wouldn’t call herself good, but evil seemed to imply she had no good intentions at all. She always had good intentions, though not everyone would have agreed with that. ”The tree once was the magic given to the Chamber. And ever burning pine tree that, for the price of a little blood, would show you a piece of the future. Or a possible future, anyway, for futures are fickle things.” Free will, of course, muddied the waters. ”There’s a different version of the tree now, though it is not longer tied to a land but to me.” Some bit of magic brought back to Beqanna, though it was hardly the same as it once was.
”Greta, she drawls, tasting the name with a slight cock of her head at the way the girl introduces herself. ”You can answer to whatever you want, dear child. Tell me, who is your father?” Another command, perhaps, though Straia knows no other way to speak. She was born a princess, bred to be a Queen, and a Queen even when she ruled no land. Lands were not the only sort of power one could attain, after all.
Straia simply inclines her head as Blasphmare mentions that they all have good and evil within them. ”Some would call me evil, but in the end, it simply depends on how you view the world.” She certainly wouldn’t call herself good, but evil seemed to imply she had no good intentions at all. She always had good intentions, though not everyone would have agreed with that. ”The tree once was the magic given to the Chamber. And ever burning pine tree that, for the price of a little blood, would show you a piece of the future. Or a possible future, anyway, for futures are fickle things.” Free will, of course, muddied the waters. ”There’s a different version of the tree now, though it is not longer tied to a land but to me.” Some bit of magic brought back to Beqanna, though it was hardly the same as it once was.
@[greta]
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission