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!
The Honeybee had never insinuated her love of shiny objects to be a secret – even as she furtively wound her way along dark tunnels with her faithful duo of companions. She skipped and paraded, as if on a merry little trip rather than just wandering around looking for a particular sheen, hands dragged down the seam of caverns and crag. The hum under her breath carried a silly little tune, likely a mimicry of some sailor’s shanties.
Dutiful Fangorn scoured the floor with his long tendrils, while Sila loomed from above, gently coasting on the occasional thermal. “You guys see anything?” echoed from the smuggler, peering at both of them until she received only low grumbles. “All right, we’ll keep looking.” She was rarely daunted anyway.
It was the Nightingale that saw the Honeybee first. Nor was the Honeybee seen first at all. It was Sila, spotted above by her kinmate Pim. He screed a greeting to the other dragonling, perching on top of a precariously tall craig. Phoebe looked up then and saw the other dragonling herself and recognized it right away. "Oh! Sila!" she said with a grin.
That must mean Melita was somewhere near by. Phoebe couldn't remember the last time she had seen her, and what a way to catch up than with a little spelunking? Keeping her eye on Sila she wound her way through the rocks of the Climb until she spotted the redheaded firecracker. "Melita! Fancy meeting you out here." she said with a grin. "Looking for rubies and obsidian I take it?"
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
Another screech caught all of their attentions, and Melita’s head shot upwards, to be followed by Fangorn and Sila’s, as a familiar outline raced along the crag. Which was for the best, honestly, with the way she’d reflexively tightened her hand around a host of weaponry at her disposal.
But since it was Pim, that meant Phoebe was nearby, and as dragons and gourds made their welcoming exchanges, the Honeybee turned her attentions to the approaching demigod. “Oh hey Phoebe,” perhaps after years of wars and revelations and renewals and scars, there were a number of reunions in sight. Whether or not this appealed to Melita went without a notation in her mind, saving it for future developments. “Yeah. I was hoping for a ruby. You?”
"How are you?" she said with a smile. It was always good to see familiar faces after the war. She hadn't been one in the safe haven - not that she had expected her to be - so a wave of relief did wash over her at seeing her friend again. Branbast lay curled around her shoulders like a stole. Slowly he opened his eyes and yawned. That was all the Honeybee would get as a greeting from him. The prat.
"I'm hoping for a ruby too." she said with a smile. "Why don't we look together? Branbast might have some insight. Right buddy?" she said, looking at the cat on her shoulders. Branbast sighed and lifted his head, ears twitching, as though he might hear the shiny rocks they looked for. "Due north." he said at length before settling his head down. "As good a lead as any I'd say."
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
“I’m all right,” because she was – strong, determined, a tenacious little shit. Not much kept her down for long, even if it seemed to be intermingling with the foundations of restless boredom beginning to crawl along her spine. “You?” She had no idea what Phoebe had been doing in the midst of war, either pre or post, save for the occasional run-in.
Her eyes flickered briefly to the cat, and his directional skills, to which Melita could only shrug. Might as well – she didn’t have semblance of anything else. “Sure.” Sila sailed on ahead, on those notations of north, and the Honeybee started walking again, following after the bronze dragon’s tail as it rounded along a corner and bend in the cavern. She scooped Fangorn up in her arms, and the little gourd’s vine tendrils wagged about, content to be carried for the moment.
"Good!" Phoebe said with a smile. "What have you been up to?" she asked as a follow up question. Frankly she didn't know what the girl did for income or fun, just that she was the adventerous sort. "Oh, I've been fine despite the 16 year old trying to eat me out of house and home." she said with a laugh. "I've also been trying to bring some order back to the Greatwood." It was a big job. The Greatwood had been hit hard by the war after all.
She followed Sila and Pim as they flew on ahead. Branbast stayed firmly on Phoebe's shoulders, content for another little nap. "So what do you think of all this? The Ancients, a festival for Dygra and all?" she asked, curious what the other woman thought. There had been strong racial divides with the Ascended but it seemed that the Ancients were more...innocuous? Danta certainly hadn't left her worried about them.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
Exploring, beating the shit out of anything that pissed her off, and avoiding her uncle didn’t seem like much for tasks, so she ventured on the first one. “Wandering a bit. Helping Jack with the Ark.” Getting stronger, growing into a more defiant, self-indulgent ember. At least Phoebe had something going for her – though she was perplexed by the sixteen-year-old reference – the youth could understand what it meant to try and get the Greatwood restored. “How is it going?”
They persisted in their northward helm, and Melita was forced to actually think about the Ancients, rather than ignorantly meander around the outskirts and boundaries of the primordial race. “I’m not sure. I feel like I don’t know enough about them, really. The Old Gods don’t seem to mind their presence?” She hadn’t heard otherwise, and Ludo would’ve certainly proclaimed something, as it had done with the Ascended. "What do you know?”
"How is the Ark?" Phoebe asked curiously. She remembered it from her time living in Torchline. It had always been one of the most recognizable vessels. "It's slow going, but we are making progress. A few new bridges have been built and we have been stabilizing the shoreline around the Stone Symphony." she said. "Our biggest challenge is residents. There just aren't enough of us to tackle as much as I wish." she said with a slight sigh, then grinned sidways at the Honeybee. "You aren't looking to move are you?" she said, half joking. Melita seemed content in Torchline.
What did she know? Not much. "She requires blood to call on her, and the Ancients refer to her as mother." she said with a shrug. Not much to go on. "I am hoping to learn more at this festival. My son's brother became an Ancient so I am trying to gather as much information as I can." she said. "But if the old gods aren't bothered, I suppose we shouldn't be either."
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
Her movements became wayward and haphazard, meandering and wandering, a few skipping steps here and there while her companions did the same around her, trying to match pace while she traversed and thought. “It’s all right. We’re supposed to be heading to the Grounds soon.” She made a face at the cavern floor, disgruntled and unimpressed, but then again, Phoebe would know very well why anyone would avoid the Hollowed section, past or present.
She’d seen only glimpses of how the Stone Symphony had certainly become more than that – the war’s edges even creeping over the twist and turns of the Greatwood’s labyrinthine designs. “I can imagine recruiting would be difficult,” for she wasn’t certain what the forest offered besides…well, a lot of trees. Her cranium shot upwards at the question though, with a snort to follow. “No thank you.”
As for Dygra and Ancients, the Honeybee’s eyes narrowed. Overly suspicious by nature, the blood requirements made her ponder, but maybe it didn’t need to be human. Just…whatever ichor they could manage to find. “Yeah. I wonder why they haven’t been around before all of this.”
Phoebe's nose wrinkled. "Why would you go to the Hollowed Grounds?" she said. The place was desolate, especially in the wake of the war. She wasn't even sure anyone lived there anymore. If there was, they were few and far between, and very hermitish. But her quick response to her question about residency made her laugh. "Didn't think so." she said with a smile.
As they walked, they entered a cavern that had some rouded rocks scattered about. Phoebe had heard of geodes being in such rocks. Why not rubies? "I wonder if we can get one of these open." she said, picking one up. At the mention of the Ancients though, Phoebe glanced back at Melita. "I don't know. I wonder if the Voice had something to do with it like she did Caido." she said.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
“Fuck if I know,” she muttered, as she’d had much of the same reaction. “Jack is always looking to do some business.” Except the poor survivors probably just wanted to be left alone, and she can only imagine him strutting around, looking to take over, and then being bored within fifteen minutes, tops. Why anyone stayed, beyond some loyalty to the only land they’d ever known, was beyond the Honeybee. Because the moment she’d had the opportunity to vacate, she fled for beaches and sea breezes.
The cavern unveiled itself into rounded rocks scattered amidst the rest of the rubble and heat, and Fangorn ambled ahead, vines outstretched and maneuvering some of the smaller pebbles around, not unlike a cat. “That’d be neat,” she offered, always intrigued by shiny objects and pulverizing things into submission. “I can hit one with my staff?” It was nigh unbreakable, and she guessed these stones weren’t.
While she snagged at her chosen armament, she could only shrug at the notions too. It always seemed to lead back to the Voice, and maybe one day none of them would ever have to say her name again. She huffed a breath, wrinkling her nose, instantly mulish. “Wouldn’t be a surprise.”
Phoebe looked perplexed by Melita's response. Not that she didn't understand what she had said, but there lacked a logic to some of it. "Is there even business to be had there?" she said. From what she had heard the whole place had essentially burned down. She didn't even know if people still called the place home! He'd be better off coming to the Greatwood which at least had things to trade.
"Sounds like a plan!" Phoebe said. She picked up a larger one of the rounded stones and placed it before Melita, kneeling on the ground as she held either end of it. The Nightingale was putting a lot of faith in her - specifically her aim. The last thing she wanted was a bump on the head. As far as their theory of the Voice and the Ancients though, she could simply shrug. It was an answer they would likely never get.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
“Fuck if I know,” she managed, another wrinkle forming along her nose and brow. “But probably not.” She’d yet to find much logic in Jack’s actions though, so she usually just let it go, rolled her eyes, or notched her own disdain.
Besides, there were other things to pursue, like breaking rocks open. Waiting for Phoebe to snag at one of the larger stones, she twisted the staff back and forth across her palms, residual warm ups, before realizing the Nightingale intended to remain. “That’s brave,” she countered with a Cheshire grin, before launching her armament anyway, a heavy blow to the center of the earthen ware.
Phoebe scoffed at Melita's response. "You'll have to let me know how the venture goes." she said. If there was any business to be had in the Hollowed Grounds...well...that wouldn't hurt the Greatwood any.
The Nightingale grinned back at her. "I trust your aim. Plus I can always heal myself." she said. Then came the smack of the staff against the rock, successfully cracking it. It didn't fully open though - and Phoebe wasn't going to let Melita have all the fun. So she took the cracked stone and slammed it against the ground. This force succeeded in opening in the rock, revealing glistening red rubies inside. She grinned and looked up at Melita. "Looks like we are in luck!" she said.
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
