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Character of the Season
Frail in body but dangerously quick of mind, Nikandr is the sort of character who proves that curiosity can be just as perilous as any weapon. A necromancer, inventor, and problem-solver with more ambition than self-preservation, Niki approaches the world like a puzzle box begging to be opened, even when what’s inside has teeth. Blunt, dry-witted, fiercely independent, and carrying a history best left partially buried, he has a knack for making even failure feel fascinating. Whether he’s raising the dead, moving across Caido to King's End, or experiencing a hangover for the first time, Nikandr brings a wonderfully strange spark to Caido, and we can’t wait to see what trouble his brilliant mind wanders into next.
Congratulations, Niki!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
OG Skinning provided by Kaons, with functionality and many custom plugins made by Neowulf!
Whether it was from the gentle stroke of his thumb or the softness of his tone, something eased within Maea that she hadn't been fully aware of. A tension, bracing for a storm that never broke, a tidal surge that never rose - a flood that wasn't there to rush in. That she didn't owe Liam anything, be it explanations or justification for the stunt that almost ended in disaster shouldn't be a revelation, yet it was. And she didn't know whether it was a symptom of how bad her one previous relationship had been or a sign of actual growth in herself that she was able to take comfort in the simplicity of what Liam was offering her right now. The profound trust that seemed to suggest he would remain whether she chose to share her thoughts with him or not.
She almost laughed out loud, a hiccuping jolt of realization of what terrifying emotions that stirred up in her. Things she'd given up on, things she'd been so afraid of looking for that even drowning felt easy in comparison - and lo and behold, now she was sitting face to face with both of them at the same time.
"Remember how I was saying I wanted to be harder to hit? So I asked Dygra to make me more flexible," she shared, heart fluttering as she very carefully shifted her arms to rest more comfortably atop his. Afraid to startle him, afraid that he'd let go - and perhaps also a bit afraid of what it would mean if he didn't. "She told me to put myself in different situations, where I'm afraid, uncomfortable, happy... This was the thing I could think of that scared me most."
For a moment, she questioned whether that was still true. Somehow, the idea of turning around to face Liam in this moment was just as terrifying, as she wasn't sure what she would or wouldn't see in his expression. What if there were emotions she wasn't ready to face? And... what if there weren't? Better to keep her gaze on the horizon for now, to count her breaths and trace the veins along the top of his hands so that the heat emanating from his skin didn't lure her to mistake kindness and camaraderie for... something else. However tempting it might be, he meant far too much to her to make foolish mistakes with.
Liam listened, comfortable in their embrace - perhaps more so than he even realized. As Maea shifted in his grip, he loosened his arms just enough that she could adjust easily, then wrapped her back up again. It was only when he had the urge to reach down to brush his lips against her shoulder - a tender gesture that he wouldn't think twice about if he knew Maea felt the same way that he was starting to realize he did - that he swallowed hard, looking out over the horizon instead.
Still, his arms remained firmly around her, unable to tear himself away. If she'd given the slightest inclination that she wanted to move, he'd have released her immediately - but she seemed... content. He had to wonder what that meant - for him, for her, for them. If there could ever be a them, or if he was reading too much into a situation that didn't exist.
Maea's fingers on the back of his hands were light and gentle, and he'd never felt more vulnerable than he did under her touch. "Does it still scare you?" he asked softly, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. "Now that you've done it and survived?"
It was perhaps a bit too easy to forget about the ordeal they'd just gone through. Her mind shied away from it, indulging instead in the thrill of skin against skin, the sound of waves crashing against nearby cliffs and the way Liam's breath tickled her ear when he spoke. She had just found the perfect angle to rest her head against his shoulder - so that her horns wouldn't get in the way - when his question dragged her back down beneath the waves, back into that dark, cramped place. Without light. Without air.
A faint tremor went through her, noticeable only because he held her. "Yeah. I'm still afraid," she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut only to find the visions of that dark place intensifying. "I died like that... once. I think I told you about that?" Or had that been the desert she told him about? "A ghost whale swallowed me, and I couldn't get out..." Drawing in a deep breath, she made herself compare the instances. Then, and this time; "but, I suppose I discovered that I can do a thing, even though it's frightening. If I am determined enough. And ask for help." Covering one of his hands with her own, Maea squeezed it gently. Beyond grateful for his presence, and more than a little sorry for the fright she must have caused him.
"Thank you. For coming with me." That made it the second time he'd saved her life. Not a habit they should get into, perhaps.
He hadn't meant to bring her back to the experience that she'd fought so hard against, and his hold tightened around her, the slow circles of his thumb stilling against Maea's stomach as he pressed his cheek to her temple. She'd found the perfect angle to lean against him, and it made it all the easier for him to wrap himself up in her, offering comfort in the only way that seemed to be worth offering in this particular moment.
Her thanks, while appreciated, took him by surprise. He'd have followed her anywhere, he realized; done anything she asked without even a moment's hesitation. It was trust, he realized then - that feeling that he couldn't shake, that unshakeable bond between them. Trust, and maybe more. "Thank you," he murmured in response. For not dying. For being with him - whatever that meant, now and in the future. "For bringing me with you."
He reached up with one hand, tucking a strand of hair tenderly behind Maea's ear before dropping his arm again. "What other experiences do you still have to seek out?" he asked, returning his attention to her quest. What were things that would make her happy? Uncomfortable? And how could he contribute to the former and minimize the latter?
It could have been claustrophobic to be so entangled by another person, but all Maea felt was warmth. The way his arms firmed up around her, the little gestures and fussing with her hair, all of it evoked those fluttery sensations like moths in her stomach, a happy yet nervous yet calm yet giddy thrill she hardly managed to contain. If her laugh was a little breathless it was entirely because of him, and it was tempting to say that she hardly needed to plan anything happy when all she needed was to have him around. Tempting... but too embarrassing to admit right now.
"There's only a happy thing left," she replied instead, "I've done the scary thing and yesterday Nova dragged me out to sing in front of the whole Hanged Man clientele, so I'd say that counts as uncomfortable." Again, that breathless little laugh; laced through with fond exasperation at Nova's antics, and perhaps a bit of anticipation for what was to come. "It is strangely difficult to think up things that make me happy, you know? There's so many things, lately... flying, and reading, spending time with friends and traveling... I don't know what to do." Carefully, dangerously, Maea turned her head aside, craning her neck around in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Liam's face. Slowly, to make sure she didn't accidentally whack him with a horn. Nervously, because he was so very close, and her heart was beating stupidly fast - too aware of his cheek against her temple, and the warm rush of breath on her skin with each breath. "What... would you do, if you could choose..?"
It had been years since Liam had felt this nervous sense of trepidation, the wild fluttering of his heart in response to another human being. He’d forgotten what it felt like to want someone, to have them and to hold them, to want to be with them with every waking breath. And maybe he’d always wonder what life would have been like if his past hadn’t happened, if his family had survived, but right now? Right now, he felt only a quiet acceptance. That maybe, despite everything, he would be okay. That his family might understand if he stepped into a new chapter. That they might be happy for him. Just as he’d be for them, were their situations reversed.
Liam chuckled softly at Maea’s uncomfortable experience, warmth in his tone as he said, ”What a treat for the Hanged Man’s patrons. You sang at Fiat Lux, remember? Your voice is lovely.” His fingers resumed their soft caress, his heart beating wildly in his chest at Maea’s breathless little laugh. Gods, what he wouldn’t give to make her laugh like that again and again.
Then she asked what he would do, her head tilting to search his face, and his hand stilled. She was so close, and so warm, and if he tilted his head just so, he could imagine what it might be like to press his lips to hers. He swallowed hard. She was still here, in his arms. She hadn’t yet pushed him away. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to see that as an invitation, terrified that one wrong move might send her running, ruining the one thing that he couldn’t imagine losing.
But nor could he resist the urge to glance down, meeting her gaze for a brief moment, his nose brushing hers and their breaths mingling in the sea air. ”This,” he said simply. He spoke without really thinking, and his cheeks heated at the admission, raw and vulnerable and open to interpretation. He swallowed hard. But he didn’t regret what he’d said. He didn’t regret what she was to him. How could he, when she’d brought such good to his life?
Scarlet crept up her neck to bloom like that elusive rose on her cheeks. She sat very still, hardly daring to breathe. This? Not the drowning, surely, so even she could find no other interpretation than this meaning this, the hug and the small talk and... and his mouth was so very close that she could taste his breath. A wild impulse to lean in and find out what it might feel like against her own crossed her mind - it would be easy, all she had to do was angle her chin up –
Then suddenly a cacophony of shrill cries cut through the silence, causing Maea to flinch in surprise. A flock of seagulls swept past their little skerry, only to turn back around and return, closer this time. Flustered and disappointed by the interruptions, Maea squinted towards the cliffs and spotted the telltale signs of a bird colony; cliffside nests and the white streaks of guano staining the rock.
Letting out a shaky breath, she was suddenly hyper aware of every place their bodies connected, the pleasant warmth turning feverish and overwhelming. Like some spell had broken and she'd plunged back into the cold realm of overthinking and disbelief. "... then, maybe we do it again sometime," she murmured, trying desperately to disconnect in a way that wouldn't make it seem like she objected to his response. Not a rejection, only self-consciousness now that they weren't alone... as if seagulls might judge her for slipping up and indulging in desires she'd spent a decade denying even existed. "Maybe we should leave... before the birds come for us."
A flock of seagulls raced overhead, squawking and carrying on in a way that surprised both Maea and Liam. Whatever response the soldier might have hoped for, he would have to settle for her murmured reply and her careful disconnection. When she moved, he released her immediately, swallowing his disappointment. Perhaps he'd misread the situation; maybe she'd just been enjoying his body heat, and that was all. With a flush staining his cheeks, he reached up to rub the back of his neck, watching Maea as she moved away.
"Of course," he said, not quite meeting her gaze as he got to his feet. He wasn't sure why he felt so adrift, suddenly - cold and alone, where only moments before they'd been so connected - but he knew that Maea was too precious for him to risk simply because of a misunderstanding. So he offered a smile - small, but genuine nonetheless - trying to put the moment behind them. "They might mistake us for carrion if we don't get moving."
So off they went - Liam with his heart tucked solidly back in his chest, where it no doubt belonged.
