From Attuned to Ascended to Ancient, Kiada Njovu-Reyes has been reborn several times throughout her short life, but her fighting spirit has never once been diminished. With beauty, grace and a quick wit, Kiada is the whole package wrapped in an infectious smile. Recent endeavours have found her in the heart of the Hollowed Grounds, aiding the region and bettering it for her new Ancient kin, and whatever she does next, we know it's sure to pack a punch.
Congratulations, Kiada!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
Frost flecked lava coursed through Noah’s veins and his head was still fuzzy, but his eyes moved ahead of them. Isla didn’t seem to react. There was no explosion of fury or burst of claws, or feathers, or scales. No volcano eruption of assault. Noah’s breath hitched in his throat for a moment and his heart skipped a beat. Did she really not know who he was, or had she been the one to forgive them all? Had she been the one to desire enough for her own survival that she could wipe away all that had happened?
Or, a spark in the back of Noah’s mind — had Dygra taken it all away from her when Isla sacrificed blood and bone and pledged her fealty to the awakened goddess?
Noah acquiesced with Isla’s assumption of his apprehensions a the way his body reacted. If he needed to be able to explain it, the bridge would be an ample excuse. ”That might help.” He lied. ”Once we are back on solid ground I’ll feel better.” He lied again.
noah olson
the emptiness of broken flesh, at the mercy of the thorns
If only Noah knew the truth - that there had never been anything to forgive for Isla, not deep down. It had been happenstance and necessity that had put her on the pathway she'd walked, and while the war had arguably taken everything from her - more than everything, given how things were still panning out - there's no room in her heart for bitterness. At least, not towards others.
And yes, perhaps Dygra has had a hand in it, too. It's difficult to wallow when you can feel the grass beneath your feet again, or taste honey on your tongue. And so it's with a kind nod that she steps forward along the bridge, putting her back to the Sentinel and steadying out the rock and sway of the boards beneath their feet.
"I imagine you are much steadier on ice than I would be," she says conversationally. You know, given that he's from Halo. "I have only visited the Citadel once or twice. I doubt I would fare very well up there these days."
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it When you hit me, hit me hard
As Isla walked on ahead of him, Noah contemplated taking this chance to teleport away from here, away from her, without her catching on to him being gone. But he hesitated. The tone of her voice stayed so honeyed, so warm. There was no semblance of the cold machinery, the grasp of the Voice and the hold that trauma held. So, Noah walked on behind her. Her tail bobbed and Noah remembered the day Safrin had called to her followers—and him, the demigod of her god—to her side in the clouds. Along with healing she gave information that Dygra was not an enemy.
Perhaps, then, Isla no longer was either. Perhaps her new alignment with the fiery goddess was enough to keep her from wanting to tear his throat out because of their history (although not personal and one on one as Isla had shared with other old gods followers). When she spoke, he gave her a chuckle, though it was still laced with the uncertainty that she read as fear f heights. ”The ice is a little more predictable than free falling.” He almost snorted. ”What would happen to an ancient were they to venture to somewhere as cold as Halo?”
noah olson
the emptiness of broken flesh, at the mercy of the thorns
Being careful of her footsteps to ensure that the bridge remained as steady as possible, Isla doesn't look over her shoulder to Noah in case that also upsets the balance, instead relying on his words and his tone of voice to continue the conversation. "Do you think?" she laughs softly. "I suppose that's one of the funny things about people coming from different places, huh."
Smiling to herself, she doesn't expect the question about Ancients, but is nonetheless happy to answer. "My understanding is that the cold makes us very slow and tired," she tells him openly. "If we're left out in it for too long after that, we'll start to turn to stone. If we're bathed in fire then we'll thaw out, but I imagine we're easy to mistake for statues like that. Who would know?"
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it When you hit me, hit me hard
"Then Torchline will be a better place for you in the long run than King's End, hmm? Given that it snows and all there." While the rolling hills were not as cold, nor the snow as deep as the frozen land Noah lived in, it still experienced the touch of each season. Torchline seemed a better place for one such as herself, an Ancient, to live. Even without all of the dramatics (that Noah knew nothing about, even if he suspected something with Sunjata and her because of her history as an ascended), it seemed a better decision.
"I couldn't live without the snow." Noah said as he took the last few steps ahead of him on the bridge. It swayed slightly faster as he increased his speed, the respite of solid ground just meters away for him to grasp for himself.
noah olson
the emptiness of broken flesh, at the mercy of the thorns
"Yes, I suppose you're right about that," Isla says softly, sounding pleasantly surprised by the realisation. "I was hoping just to go to visit a friend before moving on, but maybe I'll put down roots there. Who knows?" Climate-wise, Torchline is probably the most friendly towards Ancients after the Climb, it's true. And a lot more sociable besides.
Reaching the other side of the bridge before Noah, Isla turns once she's back on solid ground and offers the Sentinel a bright smile. "I used to quite enjoy it," she says of the snow. "Though as a doctor, you can probably imagine that there are quite a few more injuries and illnesses to deal with - for those who only experience it one season out of the year, anyway."
Turning to peer at the pathways spanning off into the jungle, Isla spots one she hasn't been down - the slope of the earth and the slight thinning of the trees makes her hopeful it will lead to the coast. "I suppose this is where we part ways, then? I hope you get everything you need for your quest."
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it When you hit me, hit me hard
They reached the other side of the bridge, and Noah let the relief of it fill his face and his body. His shoulders dropped some and he let out a breath, hands seeking refuge in his own pockets. He nodded along to what Isla said of snow and injury and illness. ”Torchline will have its own ways to send people your way.” Surely alcohol poisoning was something she hadn’t dealt with much as an ascended (which was all Noah knew her to be before now), but maybe she had seen plenty more in her time before the Voice. ”You shouldn’t be too far off, now.” He gestured towards where she was looking, and faintly on the air he could taste the sea salt.
Noah shifted his weight some. She hadn’t outright attacked him, like Wessex or Nate. He wondered if she was silently planning his demise, like Neron. But something within him, as he looked onto crystal clear eyes and tanned cheeks and her smile, told him otherwise. ”Thank you.” He said simply. He offered her a smile in return, of farewell, before waving his hand gently to her and heading towards where he needed to go next—
Which was simply out of her eyes and ears, then he used his compass to beam himself home in a heartbeat.
FIN
noah olson
the emptiness of broken flesh, at the mercy of the thorns