From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
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!
"Perhaps you are right," she hummed, considering. "Truth be told, I am personally more interested in books and old texts, myself. I would love to organize and record other people's adventures, but... lately, I'm not so sure I want any for myself. Though it may be old fears talking." Or perhaps the threat of a war looming over her head, and the awareness that any 'adventures' waiting on store for her would not be fun or exciting in any way.
A half smile appeared on her lips, crinkling the corners of her eyes as she gave Chaele a speculative look. "Would you be interested in joining such a guild?" she asked, only half in jest. "Perhaps you could help me separate the vandals from the more dedicated and careful researchers... or simply share your own finds with me? I know we only just met, but I have a good feeling about you." She winked playfully, only belatedly realizing that she was copying her brother's mannerisms.
Maea could have smacked herself for it.
watch me fall apart and I'll be yours to keep
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
It might be that they recognize those same mannerisms, though they had been delivered by a man who Chaele found ingenuine and wry. In Maea there is something entirely genuine however, somehow both wise and simple, trusting and trustworthy. Or perhaps Chaele only sees what they hope to, like an insect sniffing into a pitcher plant.
“I am not fond of walls and libraries. But I am still a researcher of a kind, and I could surely learn more than I could give.” The contemplations pour candidly out of their mouth, words that might have just as soon stayed in their throat having been pulled forth by the strange honesty of the moment. A decisive nod bows in their antlers. “I am interested, I admit. But know that I will only participate for as long as it serves me, as I expect I will only be welcome for as long as I serve a purpose.”
Still there is one question that must be answered before the shaman agrees entirely, a curious itch that must be scratched. “What are you afraid of? What happened here?”
The brightness of her smile lit up the girl's face, clearly delighted at the almost-yes to her invitation. The clause Chaele set up was reasonable too, though it left her somewhat bemused.
"Of course, if that's how you prefer to arrange it," she agreed easily. "Though I would never send anyone packing, not while they still want to be part of the guild and are willing to lend a hand where needed." Not for anything less than grave harm done to premises and personnel, or other forms of disagreements.
The question that followed was rather personal, and clearly took Maea by surprise. For a while, she weighed whether she wished to divulge such an intimate story or not... then relented with a faint sigh. Theirs was a quest for knowledge, after all. She might as well start in good faith.
"It was about three years ago, now. Perhaps a little more. I had gone through a bad breakup with my lover, and wanted something to do that would take my mind off it. I saw a notice posted here in Torchline, about ghost whales causing trouble. Some people I knew of from the Hollowed Ground would be going after them, and so I decided to join them."
She pulled her legs up against the chest and wrapped her arms around them. Huddling in, as if she might shield herself from the memories that way. "I was very young and very overconfident. I was born abandoned and had recently learned to master water magic; despite that, Ludo had seen fit to attune me. I felt powerful, and reckless, and I thought I could be of use to the others." There was a wry twist of her mouth, that might pass for a smile. "Unfortunately, I also did not listen well to instructions. When one of the others jumped into the water, I decided to follow and aid them. Trouble was, they didn't need the help. And I... I was swallowed up by one of the ghost whales."
A long, heavy silence followed, as Maea relived those terrible moments. Her struggle in the darkness, the pain and fear as she was jostled around; she closed her eyes, but it did nothing to shut the images out.
"I - I was knocked around until I lost consciousness... and my companions did not notice that I was missing. So I died, down there. I suppose my bones are here, somewhere. Lying on the bottom of the ocean, gnawed clean by sea creatures."
Was that too macabre? Chaele was wearing a bone mask; somehow she didn't think the person would take offense.
watch me fall apart and I'll be yours to keep
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Chaele knows what it is to grieve, to aspire, to preempt, to fail. They are not accustomed to compassion; rarely do they speak with others, let alone incite an entire story. But there is something about this woman-- perhaps her abandoned heritage, or her knack for curiosity, or the story which rings so similar to their own-- which inspires the shaman to sympathize. If they were close enough, they might have put a hand on Maea’s shoulder. Instead their fingers lace tightly in their lap, through the pregnant pause and the final words that follow.
“The lantern is even more fitting,” they suppose, gesturing to the completed project with a stiff hand. As far as they can tell, there is little else to say about that most terrible moment in Maea’s life, and they are eager to move on from expressions of emotion or vulnerability. “You are a part of the ocean now. The pieces of it are pieces of you. Do you believe you will glimpse your own self at the festival?”
A resurrection. Truly, Chaele knew too little about the world. A part of them remained incredulous, but they were more interested in learning the details of such a feat than in doubting their veracity. Measuring the moments, careful of the conversation’s tone while not entirely aware of it, they lean forward and add another question. “How are you... here?”
Rising from the sea like some warm and welcome submarine is a Tumsea. With a smattering of starfish on its shell and a coating of seaweed, the creature looks as if it is trying to reflect the starlit heavens. Slow and kind, the creature glances your way, and though it is difficult to ascribe a smile to a creature such as this, indeed it seems to be smiling at you before descending down back into the waves.
You’ve encountered a Tumsea. This counts as a rare creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. If you choose to follow this creature, you do so at your own risk, however, just having it in this thread is enough to satisfy your levelling requirements. You may not kill your rare creature without admin permission.
Tumseas (rare/mythical): Smaller cousins of the Tulmhainar, Tumseas are like moving ecosystems all unto themselves. With shells of brilliant blues and earth browns, these turtle-like creatures can grow to nearly 4ft in diameter and can hold their breath for decades at a time. Bringing vibrancy and health to all the underwater trails they follow, Tumseas are thought to be good omens and are often followed by schools of fish encantados
The silence was welcome. Maea accepted the moment to gather herself with gratitude, and so was able to appreciate the sentiment that Chaele offered as they spoke up. Opening her eyes again, the pale woman tilted her head and gazed in some wonderment at her most recent acquaintance.
"That - is such a lovely way to look at it. Thank you. But no. If anything, I am hoping to see some path forward from where I am now. It's been... difficult, to regain equilibrium."
Allowing her gaze to travel off towards the waves, intrigued by the notion that she and it might somehow be related now, Maea blinked slowly. And watched in mounting awe as the sea rose up to give way for the miracle that was the tumsea. A breath she didn't need caught in her throat, and for a moment it was as if she had been heard. Like this gentle, smiling creature confirmed the suggestion, the notion, the implication that she was in fact not separate and out of tune with the world after all.
Touched to the core of her being, she sat in awe. Not until the tumsea had returned to the depths did a slow sigh release the air she'd withheld, and she turned wide eyed to share a glance with Chaele.
"Did you see...?"
watch me fall apart and I'll be yours to keep
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
In the moonless darkness, the Abandoned’s eyes do not see much. A hump of a shadow appears before them, a streak of black to interrupt the starry ocean with a pair of reflective eyes peering back at them. But the smell of it reaches her, the musk of salted moss and the tang of deep, murky secrets. And the sound of it too: like a short breath through the pulse of the ocean current followed by so many tiny, breaching fish crackling in its wake, and a little grumble of acknowledgement before it gasps for another few decades of air. Chaele’s gaze is pulled away by Maea’s, a gentle grin hidden behind their mask but present in their voice as they reply reverently, “Yes.”
But as the tumsea submerges and continues on its way, all that is left are reminiscences of loss and rebirth. Chaele’s words might seem warm, but they are delivered more like an observation, a cool deduction of facts. “It seems you have found the path forward, or at least a trailhead. This guild... the preservation of knowledge is a worthy endeavor. Through the memories we pass to others, we all get a chance to live on.” A rune-carved hand rises and turns over in a gesture toward the lantern, the ocean, and the horizon.
One question remains unanswered, and perhaps for the better. They had already asked so much-- and there is yet more to ask. “Maea… I must admit that I am stranded here. My boat is damaged, and I do not know how long the island will last. I would owe you a debt if I could return with you.”
It certainly was a more poetic and profound way to look at it. Maea hadn't really thought much beyond the guild being a good way to keep herself busy. She kept that to herself though, and smiled with eager nods as Chaele seemed to make up her mind.
Looking around, she decided that her lantern making was complete. With that kind of lucky omen, Maea wouldn't dare add anything else - it would only push her fortunes, and gods knew she was short on those already. She collected her tools and scattered the debris and remaining materials back where they had come from, and blinked in some surprise as her companion made her request.
"Of course I can take you to shore. You will owe me nothing, Chaele. Just show up when it's time to clean out the guild, and I will be the one in debt." Smiling warmly, she gathered up the lantern and rose to her feet, offering the other a hand to help them rise. "Are you cold? I can offer my coat, if you need it. The wind doesn't bother me."
watch me fall apart and I'll be yours to keep
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
The hand, scarred in its own unique ways, remains outstretched for a moment that passes like a minute. At first they are perplexed by the gesture, but then they are simply grateful for it. Chaele takes the help and rises to their feet. They stand somewhat taller than Maea, perhaps offering her a glimpse of the lower half of their face, complete with split lip and cautious smile.
Further generosities are heaped onto the shaman’s mildly shivering shoulders, refusals and favors met with slow hesitance. They lift a hand in refusal of the coat, indulging in at least a modicum of stubborn pride. “Consider the debt what you will. I will come when you call, to help in the preparations.”
Their gaze tips toward the boat then, a sanctuary and a relief. It is rare that Chaele has the opportunity to speak peacefully with another person, but as they push the hull over the wet sand and jump into the bowl, they begin to appreciate just how lucky they had been to meet this one.
