Open Chronicles The Return Of The Queen

[Hebemarri]

"Mistress. The priestesses are prepared. I apologize for my delay in attending to you."​

IN THE GRAND TEMPLE:

Hebemarri sat as tranquil as a saint in the shadowy pool as Kiyari brushed her bit by bit. It almost seemed like the high priestess didn’t even know her servant was there, until she unfurled her wings to offer Kiyari’s brush access to the canvas of leathery membrane. Then after that came lifting her limbs and claws out of the water in sequence, not speaking a word or opening her eyes for even a moment.

once Kiyari had finished however, the dragon opened her silvery eyes and gazed deeply into the young Drow’s very essence.


“Flower of my garden~”


Hebemarri waded through the water towards Kiyari, sending ripples and waves through the darkened pool. When she reached the young Drow, a talon was raised from the water and used to hold Kiyari up by the chin. The razor edge which had cleaved through countless drow just days before, was just inches away from the young man’s neck. All the same, Hebemarri did not stop looking at Kiyari’s ghostly visage.

“How well you serve my needs.” The high priestess said with a smile. “You give me such confidence in skills to tend, and to prune.”

The talon was taken away and Hebemarri emerged from the pool, circling Kiyari as she signaled the robed figures to dry her off. Their cloaks retracted to reveal shadowy forms of many limbs, which stretched forward with cloths reaching further and further until they resembled clotheslines between buildings more than arms.

As they reached and dried, Hebemarri reclined around Kiyari like a cat, encircling him like a serpent.

“But please,” she said, and somewhat hissed. “Tell me of your present, flower. The chaos with succession has left me so hither and dither: I can’t help but feel like I’ve neglected my lovely little beast.”

 

[Kiyari]

Grand Temple of Maelzafan

As the wing was unfurled Kiyari would angle the brush to more accurately tend to his Mistress. Scrubbing, pampering every inch of membrane in long brush strokes, leaving a glistening trail of dark water and scented soaps behind on the thin membrane. As the limbs were raised they were of course tended to, every patch of softer scales, more sensitive areas, were scrubbed and fawned over with decades worth of experience and routine. Then each claw was reverently scrubbed, bristle by bristle, until his Mistress's eyes opened and pale blue eyes met silvery orbs.

That low purr, that intimate name, that familiarity and authority washed over Kiyari like a lukewarm wave of familiar waters. Similar to the waters that cascaded down his Mistress's amethyst form as she stalked closer and closer. As that claw rose from the water to hold their chin Kiyari met his Mistress's eyes without fear, without so much as a flinch. Their chin tilting up ever so slightly to more fully meet her gaze. Their sunken, exhausted-seeming eyes never so much as blinking as their Mistress smiled. Purring kind words the likes of which she wielded as deftly and sharply as her talons.

Kiyari was used to it.

As Hebemarri circled them, languidly being tended to by the other creatures, her inquiry into their current condition was almost surprising. Almost. Were Kiyari still fresh to his Mistress's service he would have let that warm surprise of care in her tone surprise them. But no. She was checking their condition as she may check to ensure her talons were still sharp enough to rend flesh. Kiyari, as Hebemarri curled around them, would turn to meet her gaze and gently hand off the brush to one of the creatures. Trading it off for a bottle of scented scale wax and a cloth.

Kneeling beside Hebemarri's head Kiyari would dutifully wax and massage his Mistress's scales at the base of her skull, the top of her neck, roughly where behind a human's ears would be as he answered in a low, reverent tone.

"I am ready to serve as always Mistress."

Kiyari allowed a small frown to grace their features. Telling Hebemarri what he thought she wanted to hear. Whether he truly felt what he said or not was perhaps unknown even to him.

"Though quite envious of having to share tending to you today....."

He murmured just a bit quieter so only she could hear.​

 

[Dinien]

~MEANWHILE IN LOWTOWN~

Din grinned even wider.

“Sleeping poison… just a dab! You’ll be snoring like a cretok before the hour, I’ll wager…. Oh! Any requests for how we dress you up, abban?”

He took out a larger flask, uncorked it, saluted Slaine with another wink, and took a long draught. He coughed and grimaced before tossing her the rest.

“Yes, I do believe that was the field brew Zai was referring to!”

He danced a little circular caper, then shouted, “Whoo! I can feel my gut rotting already!”

Slaine Aylwin
Theceran
Nyssiel
Alak Rasivrein
Zairyn

 

[Hebemarri]

IN THE GRAND TEMPLE (still)
As Kiyari readied the cloth, Hebemarri stretched her body along the stone of the chamber. For it was to Kiyari alone that she offered the underside of her neck. The wax that was applied by dutiful hands had been made by a unique blend— the extract of Kiyari Wildflowers. It was Hebemarri’s favorite scent in the entire world.

“Ah, to have these moments of comfort. It makes me wish they could last forever— but alas.”

Hebemarri stood, snapping her talons together and prompting the robed horrors to begin adorning her in the ceremonial raiments. It was far more extravagant than anything Kiyari would have ever seen Hebemarri wear. Looking more and more like the draconic version of the outfit worn in the portrait of a mean looking old drow that hung above one of the grand temple stairwells.

Hebemarri turned to Kiyari as she was dressed. “I am to oversee today’s coronation, my flower. The first I have even attended in many years.”

A series of items were then placed in front of Kiyari to preform blessings of sanctity on the high priestess’ adornment.

“And I do this now.” Hebemarri continued. “Out of a trust that this new old queen’s ambition will return the empire to its long faded glory…” the familiar sound of talon tapping against stone then began to echo through the room. “Yet she is acting so childish, and insistent on petty slights against our glorious goddess. It bothers me, flower, it really does.” At this point, Hebemarri was practically swimming in ornamented cloth. With even her face covered by a black veil and long golden headdress.

“So tell me, o’ flower of my garden. If you were I, how would you deal with a queen such as her?”

 

[Kiyari]

Grand Temple of Maelzafan


The wax applied with dutiful hands Kiyari would bow their head in silent thanks to Hebemarri for honoring their attention by wishing it to last forever. Though their expression did not change they stayed kneeling, watching her rise with tired eyes, hands lain placidly in their dark-clothed lap. Watching, waiting, always ready, as their Mistress swam in a sea of clothing of the finest make. Only when the items were presented for prayer did he bow his head, allowing his eyes to leave his Mistress, as he murmured the long-practiced blessings. Softly shimmering shadows would swim and undulate in the folds of the items, framing Hebemarri's form in more stark curves, sharper edges, and while he did this he listened. Always listened.

For a long moment he was perplexed, head tilting gently as sky-blue eyes roamed his veiled Mistress, and of course obedience and enraptured awe was provided before the answer she questioned. To give, feigned or not, praise and adoration at her form such that he could not help himself.

"Your form would be fit to roost before our goddess herself, my Mistress."

Kiyari would bow his head briefly before straightening, thinking, and replying.

"My loyalty is yours, always, and to the Queen."

The ordering given was purposefully, a fact Hebemarri no doubt knew, but Kiyari continued without missing a beat in a tone as low, bored and grey as always.

"I have seen in my service to you, my resplendent Mistress, that all who exist in our goddess's shadow possess weakness. Nobles, magi, of our kind all prepared to die before exposing either the world to a part of themselves, or a part of themselves to anyone."

A brief furrowing of the brow. More than a few slaughtered enemies of his Mistress flashed before his eyes. Their sordid, wretched secrets even Maelzafan would scorn and hurl them into the pits for. Kiyari's eyes would briefly lower, then snap up to Hebemarri, and they would continue in the same obedient tone.

"Of course you should know these weaknesses of the new Queen to better guard her from their exploitation. To shield her in ways no others can. Only yours is the wisdom and grace to do so, my Mistress, for you are unequaled before our magnificent goddess."

Kiyari would slowly stand, should their Mistress allow it, and prepare to accompany her without a word. Ever her shadow. Eyes downcast, prepared to follow.

Always.​