Wyvern Tails and Phoenix Feathers

The Frontlines, Chapter 2 - Navinia

It was cold within the embassy at Old Eagle's Nest. While the tiled floors and walls were beautiful in design, detailing morning glories on elegant coiling vines, they did nothing to retain heat. Navina was reminded of that fact every morning as she set her feet beside her bed. When barefoot, she walked on her toes like a dancer so that the least amount of her skin made contact as possible.

She asked the staff to provide her with a rug for her room, but they had yet to grant the request since her arrival. Some seemed to avoid her entirely. She was used to it. When Navinia was younger, she received praise for her effortless allure. She was chosen as the ambassador of Ravenshade who would be the new Archmage of Iron Fen's wife in part because of her beauty. But ever since Horus Morningshire set her ablaze on that fateful day in the canyons north of Darkwood, strangers treated her like a different creature. In many regards, she was different.

The experience had changed her, more internally than anyone cared to notice. What they saw were the scars on her face; they curled up her neck, dimpling her cheek and ear. Her black hair refused to grow on a large patch on the side of her head. She didn't hide it behind the tresses that remained. She would not shrink away from her past. Some said her appearance was too intimidating to draw the interest of a man, and that pleased Navinia. She was focused on assisting Ravenshade in its war efforts, not on being any man's conquest. That part of her life was over. If she were to find love, it would be on her own terms.

She drank tea at her desk in front of a circular window that overlooked the valley. It would have been a breathtaking view if the border wasn't desecrated by constant conflict. Iron Fen troops were training outside. They were always training and eating Ravenshade food and drinking Ravenshade ale. But it was the Ravenshade soldiers that were dying in battle. While it was true the King of Iron Fen offered his military support, it was the army of Ravenshade that was expected to make the greatest sacrifice. She understood why, but she didn't like it all the same.

There was a knock at her door, gentle and meek. She knew from the pattern it was Lindi, the young maid who never gave her eye contact.

"Enter," said Navinia.

The door creaked and Lindi crept inside. Her hair was in a high knot and she wore a uniform of dusty mauve. She carried a terracotta cask in her trembling arms. It was too heavy for her.

"You can set that down," Navinia said. "Whatever that is."

"Thank you Lady Ambassador," said Lindi. She set it down carefully at her feet. "It is a gift from Gavrinon, a magelord of Morne."

Navinia folded her arms. "More wine? Wine won't keep fiends from attacking the border. What these magelords ought to do is take responsibility for their subjects."

"It isn't wine," said Lindi.

"Oh?"

That was new. It seemed there wasn't a magelord in Wyvern Rock that didn't have his own vineyard. Navina scrutinized the dirty cork in the cask.

"There's a note," explained Lindi. "Would you like me to read it?"