Reminder to self, edit uncert to cert when obtained.
Revna
“She was like an angel,” her mother had always gushed. “A beautiful, vengeful angel. Some warriors had attacked their lands, pushing past the borders to kidnap a small herd, and she appeared to avenge them. One would have thought the full sized ones that she had in her guard would have been the most fearsome, but it was impossible to look away. Her speed, her poise, --”
At a certain point, Revna would often zone out. Her mother’s retellings often stretched and the details varied, but the basics stayed the same. A small but mighty queen brought a small group of soldiers and decimated their village. Once her bloodlust was sated, she spared those weak enough to never stand against her in the first place, taking what wealth and goods she wanted before leaving and never looking back, knowing that she had utterly crushed the land she had retaliated against.
Probably by mistake, the warrior queen had left a feather behind. A feather that her mother had carefully squirreled away, pouring her admiration and envy into it when none were looking. From what Revna had gathered from the elders and the few others left alive, she had become obsessive over it, muttering wishes when she thought no one was looking, and fiercely protective of it. One day it had disappeared, and distraught her mother had stirred up quite a fuss, accusing all of theft or sabotage, spending countless hours retracing her steps to look for it. That was when she had stumbled across Revna’ basket, the same brilliant white with the gold and black markings her mother had all but memorized from her brief encounter, moons before.
It wasn’t until Revna had emerged that the gossip began in earnest. No one else in her village had wings on their shoulders or ankles, much less anything resembling feathers. Though many of her physical traits were clearly from her mother, her coloration was strikingly reminiscent of the queen who had stormed through their lands, leaving a path of destruction in her wake.
Then there were her eyes, that unnerved all she came across, open [i[or closed. As a foal, she had cried over it, too young to regulate her emotions, to conceal them and turn the embarrassment into anger, anger into action. It wasn’t until she caught sight of her reflection that she understood the unnatural pits that others looked into, finding themselves wanting and knowing they were being judged.
Revna accepted that judgment as a challenge.
Her mother had always pushed for the best, making sure she was fed first, despite it never being enough, not with the meager pickings in the village. Finding her the best teachers, either those that remained but far more often travelers, and if there was a price to be paid, of course her mother paid it. She even forced Revna into a strict training regiment, insisting her daughter never embarrass her. Ironic, since her mother was enough of an embarrassment on her own, and because no one expected more out of her than she expected of herself.
She knew the tales, the whispered implications, and for Revna, it was motivation. Motivation to take the lessons and come out stronger. By the time she clawed her way into adulthood, the villagers never dared whisper in her presence. She had begun her own reputation, and their eyes dropped now as they shuffled nervously, waiting for her to pass before they quickly found a new corner to spread their rumors. Small soquili with small minds, not worth the time it would take to correct them, nor the energy.
Plus, it was time. Time to leave her tiny little village and head to the castle in the southwest. There, she could demand an audience. The guards and courtiers would see it, just as the villagers had. The uncanny resemblance, the same burning desire that raged inside of her, the air about her that inspired others to submit or remove themselves from her path.
It was time to discover the other half of the puzzle.
It was time to present herself to Lada Ravenna.
