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 swamp rat isn't exactly the most appealing visually, but Caden has eaten worse in his life spent living in the wilds so the internal grimace luckily remains internal.
"Happily," he assures with a small smile. He is a rather efficient hunter himself given the difficulty of farming or cattle rearing in a transitory lifestyle. It also means he has calves fit for the gods after twenty-two years of walking, so the rising hill in front of him is daunting but not enough to discourage him from the enticement of a camp and a well-deserved rest.
Distracted from the view by the motion of her hands tying up her hair, Caden takes a brief moment to appreciatively ogle her small horns. It's not uncommon to see Attuned half-shift horns and other appendages onto themselves, but it looks far more natural on her in his (rather biased) opinion. Her question is therefore partially missed in his distraction, but he leaps to answer after realizing his delay, cheeks turning pink.
"It's a bit too hot for me personally, but the landscape is so different from anywhere else in Caido. It's unbelievable - in a good way!" The first time he'd seen lava with his own eyes he hadn't moved from the spot for nearly an hour. As they approach the base of the hill, he tries to get his words out before the exertion steals them from his lungs. "Have you lived here long?"
If he's home, I've got a message for the man above Getting out is not enough if nobody else can come
Perhaps it is because she was already returning her gaze to look at him before they continue forward that she catches his gaze moving to stare at her horns. Instinctively she brushes her long backs back towards her face to cover them, though there was nothing to disguise the nubs poking out despite her effort. She does not acknowledge her differences aside from raising a brow at him, as if daring him to ask. Instead, she continues to lead the way toward the camp.
The hunting trip had been long and she hadn't accounted for a distraction adding additional time to her trek. A steep incline that was normally traversed with practiced ease catches her feet slipping more often than she'd like, and it takes her another moment to answer him.
"Since I was woken from my sleep some time ago. I could not tell you if I lived here before that, though I can't imagine living anywhere else." A pause as they finally crest the hill to the camp. "That is not to say I wouldn't mind seeing what else is out there." There was much that had changed, even more that she wished to see with her own eyes.
"My home is yours until our paths part, Caden. Rest and tend to your wounds, I will build the fire. "
Wincing to himself for his misstep as she brushes her bangs over her horns, Caden chooses to bite his tongue instead of trying to explain that he'd been admiring them. Considering flirting is akin to a death sentence for him anything even remotely close to complimenting a beautiful woman should be steadfastly avoided. It might put off the wrong impression but he values an unbroken nose.
One that is huffing and puffing quietly as he follows just behind her. Not out of shape in the least, but certainly not accustomed to rock scrambling or any other form of mountaineering. Was this easier for her because she was perhaps half goat? Caden that's probably insanely offensive, his brain hisses at him, and Caden is grateful that his cheeks are already pink with exertion when his shame makes them darken.
He can't answer her until they've reached the summit and can look down at her camp, but Caden is struck by the realization that - "You don't remember?" He at least manages not to sound horrified, though there is an empathetic undercurrent he can't stop from slipping through. Following in her wake as she heads towards the camp, Caden clears his throat, feeling small and grateful and awed all at once. "Thank you Kallan. I really appreciate the help." Sitting obediently, he sets about rolling his pants up to begin attending to his knee with the first aid kit he always keeps in his pack. Shooting furtive glances at her by the fire until his curiosity forces his tongue back into motion. "Do you visit the other Ancients here?" The camp is clearly outfitted for a singular person, and Caden can empathize deeply with that lifestyle.
If he's home, I've got a message for the man above Getting out is not enough if nobody else can come
Kallan has knelt beside the dedicated fire pit crudely made up of scavenged stones, all roughly large enough to hold the fire within its bounds. There were some charred pieces from her last time ‘home’ and she built upon them with enough firewood to support itself like a tent. ”No, anytime I try to remember what my family was like, where I came from, it is like grabbing at smoke.”
She punctuates her words by ending the sentence with a strike of stone against flint she had pulled from her side bag. It takes a few more tries at a spark before it catches and slowly sets the campfire ablaze. Kallan leans back on her heels with a huff of self-satisfaction, running an ashy hand through her hair. She allows herself a brief moment of respite, the creeping heat of the fire causing her lids to fall heavy, rolling her neck in a forward circle until she feels the satisfying pop at the base of her skull. But she couldn’t rest just yet.
Forcing her eyes open to find Caden’s across the fire, having taken a moment to answer him, she finally shakes her head. ”Nor have I spoken to anyone like myself in as long.” She was unsure if the pain of losing a life she couldn’t remember would truly fade. The ache in her chest that flared at any thought of what was lost had beat into life once more though she tries to keep the emotion of it from her voice.
Clearing her throat with a small shake of her head, Kallan pulls the oversized vermin to her side. ”You are the first that I have spoken to in some time.” She sets to work skinning the beast, sparing a glance back at him when she was confident that she wouldn’t slice a finger off in her work. ”It is a nice change of pace.”
Caden - far too empathetic for his own good - feels his heart ache in his chest at how simply she says something so devastating. He supposes if you’re the one living it, you can’t truly mourn something you don’t remember. Merely the absence of something you know should exist in the space it left behind. He feels the burning urge to offer to help her, to use his magic to perhaps glimpse memories of her past, but years of hiding hold his tongue fast. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs instead. Maybe if he can come to trust her…
Caden shakes himself free of those hopeful musings. Attachments make moving on harder, and who knows if they’ll even stick around each other after tomorrow? For now he indulges only by watching her surreptitiously; the firelight that dances on her neck as she rolls it, the fall of her hair around her cheeks and the jut of her horns. Caden is accustomed to this secretive, almost voyeuristic manner of appeasing his loneliness, like a lived daydream of closeness and kinship that he has never experienced outside of his uncle.
Her hands are deft and sure as she skins the animal at her side, and Caden rolls his pants back down over his now bandaged knee to avoid staring too blatantly or revealing the spasm of sympathy that follows in the wake of her admission. If he does it enough times she will begin to think he pities her. “Same here,” he admits with a wry smile, lifting his eyes once he’s sure that’s the only expression she’ll catch. “There’s only so many conversations you can have with yourself before you go a little stir crazy.” Or just plain crazy. “Have you thought about traveling while it’s Longheat? You’d have more options with most of the lands being warm.” He definitely isn’t asking with any ulterior motives in mind.
If he's home, I've got a message for the man above Getting out is not enough if nobody else can come
06-16-2023, 04:41 AM (This post was last modified: 06-27-2023, 01:57 AM by Kallan.)
Kallan
I am no mother, I am no bride, I am King
Kallan was not used to being able to share experiences with someone who seemed in a position to understand. Though given what she'd learned of him though he was perhaps more nomadic than herself. The Climb had been home since she could remember, the thought of leaving the only home she's known twisted her stomach.
After the skinning was complete she patted clay over the carcass before nestling it among the fresh embers, no concern for the fire that lapped at the animal's various liquids covering her hands. Normally, she would not cook the spoils of her hunt for more than a few moments over an open flame, but she had guests tonight.
Kallan has convinced herself that the extra effort she was putting in, though she wouldn't admit it, was surely just to assist her guest due to his injuries.
Seriously, that was it.
”After visiting this festival you spoke of, perhaps. ” Silently concluding her line of thought to herself, and finally answering him after perhaps a beat too long, she rose to process the skin of the rat while it cooked. The space of the tent was not large enough for her voice not to reach him, even with her back turned to him. ”I do not know what this trip will bring, or what will come next. I have rarely left this place, so it will all be... New.”
"But tell me of your travels, Caden. What do I have to look forward to on our trip?"
If she were to hardly do more than sear the meat, Caden wouldn't so much as blink an eye - too enraptured by her company (and beauty) to so much as remember what animal it was she'd thrown over the fire. But she doesn't need to know that.
As such he hangs on her every word, perhaps a bit too intense in his attentiveness. "New might be a good thing," he offers carefully, aiming to impart a sense of optimism without infantilizing her. Caden certainly understands how new things can be intimidating, even if he is far too worldly to consider traveling one of them.
"I've been to every region but Stormbreak," he starts, voice resonating with clear surety in a way that implies he has taken on the role of storyteller countless times before. "The world is immensely vast. Of the settled regions you have Torchline - hot, sandy beaches, endless ocean surrounding. Volcanoes, though they're dormant and don't produce lava like the Climb. Halo will be too cold for you without magical intervention, but it is white and blue as far as the eye can see from snow and ice." Naturally to him, his hands start to move and shape the words as he goes. "The Hollowed Grounds are ravaged and old, with stonework that crumbles into grasslands and forests. The Greatwood has trees taller than you could ever dream could grow, with giant mushrooms you can jump on and feel as if you're flying. And the wilds have all of it and more; humid, hot forests with every imaginable color of plant, flower fields where the sky meets the earth on the horizon with no mountains or buildings to interrupt." Pausing and realizing he has been prattling on, Caden's hands pause and return to his knees, cheeks a little pink as he smiles apologetically. "Sorry. None of that probably actually helps you visualize it. But there's so much out there for you to see, even just between here and where the festival will be held in the Grounds."
If he's home, I've got a message for the man above Getting out is not enough if nobody else can come
