Click here for a list of weather descriptions, seasonal festivals, and a real time:site time conversion.
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!
Once the people began to settle in town, Zavien finally took a moment for himself. Having never intentionally taken an offering for sex Frey before, it took him more than a minute to search out something he found acceptable. Even then, he isn't sure whether what he's chosen will please the deity, and he approaches the shrine with a slight sense of anxiety, the blush on his cheeks stemming from more than the heat.
Looking to Sol at his side, he takes a deep breath and lays out the fruit platter. Some are phallic or sexual in nature - bananas, peaches, pomegranates - while others are cut into suggestive shapes - cored strawberries, pineapple rings, carved mangos - that had the seller snickering with delight when she had put it together. Zavien, on the other hand, can barely look at it without the red of his face turning neon.
He settles in front of the shrine, running a nervous hand through his hair as he calls out, "Frey... it took longer than expected, but I managed to do what you asked."
Longheat presses in all at once, the warmth already thick suddenly turning decadent, syrup-slow, as if the season itself has leaned closer to listen. The ever-burning flame flares brighter, its colour deepening, while the windchimes lose their idle music and instead hum with a low, pleased resonance, metal kissing metal in a lazy rhythm. Scents bloom where none had been a moment before—ripe fruit, sun-warmed skin, something honeyed and alive—and the earth beneath the shrine seems to exhale.
Frey emerges as if coaxed out of the heat itself, presence coalescing rather than arriving, a figure shaped by want rather than form. Their smile is immediate and knowing, slow in the way of someone who has never once had to hurry, their attention sliding effortlessly to the offering laid out before them. "Mm," they murmur, voice velvet-smooth and unbothered by the passing of time. "I do not mind a little waiting."
They reach down, fingers trailing over the platter with deliberate appreciation before selecting a banana, then a pineapple ring. With an unhurried grace, they slip the ring over the fruit, letting it settle there as they lift their gaze again, eyes glinting with quiet, indulgent amusement. "Delayed gratification," Frey purrs, the corner of their mouth curving. "Sometimes it tastes the sweetest of all."
Their head tilts, heat and curiosity braided together in the motion, expression softening just enough to invite honesty, or confession. "But tell me blue eyes," they add lightly, eyes never leaving the former Commander, "did you do what I asked?"
Frey's arrival is so much different than Safrin's, not a bright lightness that falls over him, but a thick heat that blooms from within. He can feel them before seeing them, and when his eyes meet theirs, it's with a mix of excitement and dread. Part of him knew what he'd see, knew the ghostly features that might greet him again, but his breath still catches at the sight, held captive by the flickers of golden skin and brown eyes. And yet, they aren't the same as before, familiar but shifting so that they don't quite match his memories. Has his love already faded so much? Has his grief tainted her beauty?
Guilt attempts to take root in his heart, threatening to ask him questions he's not ready for, things he doesn't want to acknowledge; but Zavien dips his head in reverant greeting, pushing aside the dark emotions for a soft smile of appreciation. He'd forgotten how Frey always seems to spin something in a positive light, whether it's a delay or pain or failure, they find pleasure and opportunity.
A soft blush spreads to his ears when they slip the pineapple around the banana, heating more when their eyes turn to him. Zavien shifts uncomfortably on his knees, glancing away for a moment to run a hand through his hair, wishing desperately that he had something ice cold.
Then, the question takes him by surprise, brows furrowing in confusion when his green eyes slide back to Frey. "I believe so..." But doubt blossoms, the soft blush of his cheeks deepening as he says, "There have been many painful moments recently, but I think I've done what I can to ease that pain, and at times... turn it into something better." Opportunities for friendship and comfort, optimism in the face of heartbreak, but most of all, that last memory he'd have of Lena and the gift it'd given him in the wake of her death - knowing her love in its entirety.
But uncertainty coils in his chest, palms turning sweaty when he begins to question it all. "Should I have done more?"
Frey’s smile deepens, slow and pleased, as Zavien speaks. They do not interrupt him. They never rush this part. Instead, they lift the banana again, the pineapple ring still looped around it, and with an unhurried grace bring it to their lips. The moment their mouth closes around the fruit, sensation blooms—sweetness, juice, warmth—a syrupy rush that does not remain contained within Frey alone. The pineapple’s brightness drips, honeyed and sharp, and for an instant it is impossible to tell where Frey ends and Zavien begins, the taste echoing through him as if it were his own tongue that had met it.
Frey withdraws the empty peel with a soft hum of satisfaction, one brow arching as they regard him.
"There was never a timeline," they murmur lightly before their smile turns coy and knowing. "And no need to rush." They reach for another piece of fruit, rolling it idly between their palms as they consider him anew. "But you ask whether you should have done more," Frey continues, voice smooth as sun-warmed silk draped across bare skin. "So let me ask you something in return." A tilt of their head, curiosity sharpened by amusement.
"What, exactly, did you find so painful about a quiet little staycation with your girlfriend?"
A soft chuckle follows, affectionate rather than cruel. "You used your ring as I hoped you would," they allow, nodding once. "But that young woman was never truly lacking comfort, Zavien. Once healed, she seemed perfectly fine. Your task was to supplement the magic with your own personal touch so that you learned what you were capable of on your own, without the ring." Frey wrinkles their nose, playful and faintly chiding. "And I am not convinced you managed that part, budaboo."
They stretch then, arms lifting overhead in a languid arc, the motion entirely unselfconscious. Heat rolls off them in waves, the Longheat sun seeming to linger in every line of their body, and a small, pleased sigh escapes them as they settle again. "And when I told you to comfort someone physically," Frey adds at last, eyes gleaming as they look back down at him, "did you really think I meant a polite hug and a quick arm around the shoulders?"
Attempting to finish his thoughts, Zavien's attention follows the fruit as it meets Frey's lips. Just as he utters the last word - his question settling uncertainly between them - he's overwhelmed by the sweet taste flooding his mouth. Saliva pools in the tangy onslaught, his mouth falling ajar as if to accommodate the next bite, heat following the blissful sensation bathing his tongue. It's disorienting, throwing off his thinking to the point that he's struggling to catch up with the conversation.
For a moment, his eyes blink distractedly, mouth opening and closing like a fish before he manages to swallow, a blush threatening to spread down his neck. "Uuh, nothing - I mean, not for me." Although Lena might have found the massage too rough to begin with, he hadn't felt any pain beyond embarrassment and the aching need for her, the recollection holding none of the potency of the moment. Yet, he can't seem to find the ground to argue, Frey's actions and lilting question causing him to draw a blank.
Trying to clear his mouth of the lingering taste - or renew it - Zavien swallows again, his head lowering in thought. He wonders if what Frey says is true, replaying the memory in his mind and wondering if he had just assumed Soh needed comforting after the attack. She'd appeared shaken, but perhaps he'd been wrong - or perhaps he'd misunderstood what Frey had asked of him.
Regardless of what he'd thought, they seem unsatisfied with his attempt, and he purses his lips to focus on the conversation rather than the overheated blood pumping through his body. "I see..."
And boy does he see as Frey lifts their arms up, their nude chest and lithe body stretching in Zavien's sight. He just gawks for a moment, unable to do more than stare until they relax again. Then his mind starts to move, clarity entering his eyes once more as he tries to think of the question, having difficulty puzzling out exactly what they mean. "I - " he starts just as understanding begins to bloom. "I guess not." This is sex Frey after all, and apparently his friendly definition of 'physical' isn't quite the same.
A deeper blush forms and Zavien has to clear his throat before asking, "What should I... do?" It's obvious he has more work to do in order to satisfy the deity, but he's slightly overwhelmed by the pressure, wondering how far he's meant to go and whether he has the balls to do it without the comfort of having it be someone he cares for romantically.
02-04-2026, 11:29 AM (This post was last modified: 02-04-2026, 11:29 AM by Frey.)
Frey
Frey’s expression shifts—not disappointed, not unkind, but knowingly amused—and they give a slow shake of their head, tongue clicking softly against their teeth. "No," they say gently, almost fondly. "Coming on too strong with your hands is not the same thing as transforming pain into pleasure." Their gaze lingers on him, assessing rather than judging.
When Zavien asks what he should do, Frey’s laughter slips free, low and warm, threaded with unmistakable delight. "Oh, I am quite certain you know exactly what I meant," they purr, the words settling between them like heat on bare skin. A languid shrug lifts their shoulders, unbothered, indulgent. "Whether you are ready to do it," Frey adds lightly, not ignorant of the current state of Zavien's heart, "is an entirely different matter."
They pause then, eyes brightening with playful recollection, a grin curving their mouth. "Though..." Frey tilts their head, thoughtful. "I do seem to recall a good friend of yours who was very eager to offer tips." Their smile turns sly, conspiratorial as they think of Hawthorn. "If you truly needed pointers."
Frey’s gaze lingers a moment longer, lashes lowering as they offer him a slow, deliberate wink, all promise and mischief wrapped in heat. Then the air stirs, the scent of fruit and warmth thinning as quickly as it came, and Frey is gone, leaving only the chiming of metal and the unmistakable sense that Zavien has been very deliberately left with something to think about.
Zavien must redo 2 out of the first 3 requirements of his quest.
There are no time limits on quests, and Zavien is free to quest with other gods for things while this quest is active!
The ever-constant blush of his face seems to pulse with embarrassment, his inexperienced eagerness being put on full display for Frey to see. He clears his throat ineffectively and nods his head to hurry along the conversation. "Understood..." Whether he can pull that off is another question entirely, but he at least understands what they're saying.
Frey's laughter caresses the depths of his ears, notes drawing sensually across his skin in a way that suggests all the things unsaid. Zavien stiffens as the herald confirms his thoughts, anxiety smothering some of the heat while he wrestles with his own uncertainties. Only a slow nod comes in response, unable to give voice the decisions he didn't know the answer to, choices he hadn't yet made.
At the mention of his friend, Zavien lowers his head. He suddenly feels guilty for having come here rather than use what little time he has to seek out the courtesan, missing Thorn's company and counsel. Silently, he makes plans to do so anyways, even if it might not be for the reason Frey recommends. Smiling, he says aloud, "Thank you, Frey. I'll keep that in mind." And before he can say more, the deity is gone, their presence fading from his senses, taking with them the inexplicable heat that pounded through his body but leaving the bright blush as a reminder of their conversation.
In the end, he is certainly left with much to think about, but he doesn't regret coming to see Frey, seeing this as a new opportunity, something for him to consider as he adjusts to so many other changes in his life.
