i am the violence in the pouring rain
i am a hurricaneIt’s sort of astounding that there’s not even a soul in the Gates to greet her daughter. She knows, of course, because there’s a raven sitting on Weaver’s back. It’s like that kingdom wants to be destroyed. Borders wide open, and no one standing in their path. And Straia is restless. Her kingdom members have done well, setting the rest of Beqanna well on edge with their steals. But it wasn’t enough. And this time, Straia knows she needs to be the one to act.
Always, she has used the members of the Chamber well. Her hands are, technically, quite clean. But they very well can’t stay that way forever.
She takes to the sky as a raven. A rather nondescript, black feathered thing. There are many places to go today; flying will be a whole lot quicker. It doesn’t take her long to reach the Gates and find her daughter, who doesn’t flinch as Straia lands on the ground, shifting almost the instant her little bird feet touch the ground. “You tried, Weaver. Go home, and prepare the kingdom.” She nods to her daughter, knowing that the girl will need no more instruction than that.
And then she turns and heads into the kingdom. Straight to the Mother Tree and the garden (well at least, whatever has grown back since the first time it burned). They really should be more careful around here. She’s sure a few will run out as the fire ravens appear, quietly streaking through the sky around the tree, diving and weaving through the foliage. They are silent, because they know their work is important and somewhat secretive. But as the tree and the bushes catch fire, it won’t be long before the smoke gives them away.
Next, she slips through the kingdom, hunting for the silver dapple mare that calls herself the lady of the Gates. Magnus was gone, but Wichita was still here. And Straia clearly needs to hit them where it hurts. Stealing their princess and their queen wasn’t enough. So she’ll just have to take more.
She finds the mare, a grin spreading on her face as a few black ravens with metal spikes appear. “I’m terribly sorry dear girl that you picked the wrong side. But I believe you’ll be coming with me.” The ravens close in, giving the mare a choice. Go quietly, or be impaled with spikes. Perhaps not much of a choice, but Straia needed the mare to follow, and one way or another, she’d get her wish.
She turns, leading the mare out of the Gates and on to the Deserts. Time was of the essence, but now, sadly, she’ll have to walk with her captive in tow. Hopefully Rhy was where Straia needed her to be as well. As she crosses out of the border, the fire ravens take to the sky, leaving the tree and the garden burning in their wake. Their call is clear across the kingdom as they circle one more time before disappearing.
“Fiasko is dead! Fiasko is dead!”
straia
the raven queen of the chamber
@[Wichita]