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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!
Rain hammered down from the sky, but by the time it reached the glass panes of the greenhouse roof each drop had turned to a mix of snow and ice. The storm howled across the Citadel, the sky screaming in long, ragged peals of thunder that rolled endlessly over Halo’s frozen walls. Noah pulled the door open and stepped inside, bringing with him a gust of cold air and the smell of iron.
Warmth lingered here, humid but stubborn. Moist earth and green life softened the harshness of Halo beyond the glass. The Sentinel lifted the snow-damp cloak from his shoulders, suddenly making him appear in the greenhouse. Deimos’ magic still wove through the fabric, keeping him unseen and also dry. He let out a breath as he turned from the coat hook, eyes moving slowly across the rows of plants. Growing things in Halo had always felt like a quiet miracle to him.
He was here to find the one Halovian he thought could help him with this particular task from Safrin than any other — the Raeling that spent arguably more time here than anywhere else. His boots thudded softly against the greenhouse floor as he moved deeper inside, scanning the space until his voice finally broke the low hiss of rain overhead. "Amhran?" The demigod’s name carried easily in the humid air. "I’m looking for a little help. I need to grow something." Noah said as his eyes finally fell on the demigod.
The snow and ice is a gentle sort of music as it drums against the glass, something Amhran finds helps him to focus, and he's almost fallen into a trance with it by the time Noah steps inside. (RIP Amhran, you'd have loved ASMR playlists). Only the sound of his name jolts him back to attention, the Raeling blinking at Noah as if wondering when he'd quite literally appeared in the greenhouse. He's standing among some quite impressive sunflowers, having been replacing their supports to keep them upright, and he straightens up to smile at the other man.
"You are in the right place for growing things," he says, rubbing soil off his palms onto the apron he's wearing. "Do you have any preference? We have seeds here for fruits and vegetables as well as for flowers." He beckons him through the rows of greenery towards where the seeds are cultivated and kept to hand. "I assume this is for something other than the joy of growing it...?" It's a guess, but very few people announce a need to grow something just for fun. (Unless you're Amhran).
Noah stepped carefully between the rows as Amhran beckoned him forward. The warmth clung to him now that his cloak was off, the humid air a stark contrast to the screaming storm beyond the glass. “It’s for Safrin.” Noah admitted freely, gaze drifting briefly to the shelves of seeds Amhran gestured toward. He had not yet considered what he might grow, but he suggested, "I know it takes a long time for trees to grow to their fullest, but I think something with as strong of an anchor as a tree would be good, even if I present it to her as a sapling." Noah felt that Safrin might like that, and it felt like him: roots reaching deep, hands reaching for the sky.
He cleared his throat, then. “She’s set terms for a task. I can't use any shifts, abilities, or magical items to do the growing. Which rules out most of the ways I usually solve problems." He let a faint smile break over his lips, glacier eyes glinting as he looked at the demigod again. “So I figured I’d ask the man who actually knows what he’s doing. The most experience I have with growing anything -- beside my kids -- was when we replanted those lilies together.”
"Ah, I see," Amhran says with a smile as he hears Noah out; since the starlit braziers had appeared throughout the Citadel he's felt a little closer to the lady of the cosmos herself, having had a hand in their creation. "A tree from a seed is certainly an undertaking," he agrees, "but if you are set on it and you are willing to be patient... I think I might have something." His smile turns quiet and curious almost, as if wondering whether the fates have aligned for such a moment.
"There is a flowering tree called a star magnolia," he explains, crouching to reach not for one of the dry, warm cupboards, but into an ice box. "You have to trick their seeds into believing it is Deepfrost for a few months, otherwise they won't germinate." From the box, after a bit of careful searching, Amhran removes a small container filled with soil substrate. "I happen to have some that should be ready for planting. It will not be a quick process for it to sprout, but if you want to try it...?"
“A star magnolia.” Noah repeated thoughtfully, the name rolling slowly off his tongue. “That seems appropriate.” Safrin, the stars, something that would bloom instead of simply endure. He suspected she might appreciate the symbolism, especially knowing what Vi had placed over his life now.
Noah watched as Amhran crouched and reached into the ice box, his brows lifting slightly at the explanation. Trick the seed into thinking it was Deepfrost. When the Raeling lifted the small container, Noah stepped a little closer, bending slightly at the waist to look at it. For something that might one day become a tree, it looked unimpressive. Straightening again, the hunter said, “I don’t mind the patience. Halo teaches you that whether you want it to or not.” His voice carried a deep certainty.
“If these are ready, then I’ll try it.” A faint smile tugged at his mouth, and he gestured toward the soil box. “You’ll have to show me where to start.” He would follow all of Amhran's instructions. The Raeling wouldn't have to do any of the work, just tell the Sentinel what to do.
"Yes, I thought so too," Amhran says with a boyish smile as he straightens up. "They grow into bushy flowering trees if given enough time, with white flowers shaped like stars." Hence the name. His smile grows at Noah's point about patience, the Raeling knowing the sentiment well from his upbringing and from his fondness of the greenhouse. "Patience does often give us the best rewards, at least," he says, before offering out the box to the Sentinel.
"There are two or three seeds in there," he explains. "They're a reddish brown colour, about the size of your fingernail." Then, gesturing to where the starter pots are kept along with the potting soil, he steps back to let Noah take over. "You will need the soil and the pots first. If you fill them three quarters of the way, then make an indentation about a quarter of an inch deep for the seed to sit inside."
When Amhran smiled, Noah was reminded just how young he was. While he was in a towering, lanky body and had some features of a man, there was a boy there. Just like Marcus. Someone who had not walked Caido for very long, still trying to figure out all of the moving pieces and parts around them. Noah knew, too, there was some deeper purpose for Amhran -- not that there wasn't for Marcus, or Margot, or Ravenna, or any other young adult in the world -- but being a demigod had a weight suspended over him that carried expectations of the divine. Admittedly, Noah did not know enough about Rae to know how heavy the weight above this particular demigod's head was. But from experience, there was enough to matter.
Taking the box, Noah let his gaze follow where Amhran gestured. There were so many varieties of pots and such that Noah remembered from transplanting the lilies, but he needed to find the one that would be just right for his new project. The Sentinel set the box of seeds down on a work station, still scattered with soil and a small spade, before going over and choosing his pot. He shifted through them meticulously, but not too slowly, before finding one that he thought would be deep enough for a tree's roots, even if it would only live there as just a sapling bush. Tucking it under one arm, Noah also grabbed the large bucket full of fertile soil by its handle and brought it over. He set the soil bucket down before the work bench, and placed the pot on the surface. He followed Amhran's instructions, using the spade and his hands to fill the pot nearly full. Then, he placed the seeds in as instructed, picking them carefully from the seed box. "Now I cover them? Or do I water them?" Noah's gaze flicked sideways towards Amhran, a brow lifted.
Following after Noah on light footsteps, Amhran places himself at the end of the table where the Sentinel will be doing his planting, having to keep his hands in his pockets to stop himself trying to help. This is Noah's project after all, bestowed upon him by Safrin, and he needs to do everything unassisted. (Everything practical, anyway). "That looks good," he offers as the pot begins to fill with soil. "Keep it quite loose - star magnolia's prefer it that way, rather than packed down."
Once the seeds are planted, Amhran nods encouragingly. "Now cover them with a little more soil. Before we water them, though, these also need a layer of mulch on top. That will keep the moisture in so it doesn't get too dry." Pointing towards a few shelves, Noah will be able to find a parcel of suitable mulch that he can spread over the top of his star magnolia seeds. And with that done, he'll be free to give them their first official drink.
Noah nodded once at the instruction, committing it to memory the same way he would a trail or a set of tracks in fresh snow. He reached for another handful of soil, letting it fall gently over the seeds rather than pressing it down. The instinct to pack it firm was there, something practical and survival-driven, but he resisted it.
Once the seeds were covered, he moved toward the shelves Amhran had indicated, scanning until he found the mulch. Thankfully it was labeled clearly enough for an idio--inexperienced gardener to find. He brought it back and spread it carefully across the surface with his large hands.
For a moment, he paused, looking down at the finished pot. It didn’t look like much. Noah glanced to Amhran before reaching for the watering can. Noah poured slowly, watching as the water soaked through the mulch and disappeared into the earth below. No magic. No divine intervention. Just time and care. “That’s it, then?' the Sentinel asked.
Amhran watches with unashamed interest as Noah goes about finishing his planting, the Raeling finding fascination in even the most mundane things when it comes to what the earth will eventually produce given enough time and care. The topsoil is scattered gently over the pot, the mulch added, and the seeds meticulously watered. And when Noah checks in, Amhran offers him a pleased and decisive nod. "That's it," he agrees brightly.
"Now you just need to keep it in a place that's warm and visible to the sun, but that could be anywhere here in the greenhouse. So just pick a place that feels right to you," he says, gesturing around them. "You might also find it useful to write your name and what it is on a label, so others don't mistake it for an empty pot of soil. Then you just need to remember to water it regularly. Even if it hasn't sprouted yet, watering is really important for the seeds."
Noah nodded his head at Amhran’s confirmation. It felt simpler than most things he was asked to do. Simpler, but no less important. "Sounds good." He glanced around the greenhouse, considering the rows of thriving plants and the filtered light pressing faintly through the storm-darkened glass. After a moment, he stepped toward a spot not far from the sunflowers Amhran had been tending. It was close enough to warmth and light, but not crowded.
Setting the pot down carefully, Noah adjusted it slightly, making sure it was in the "right" place in his opinion. Then he turned back, finding the labels Amhran had mentioned and securing one, he scrawled his name and star magnolia, for Safrin with steady, deliberate strokes before pressing the marker into the soil. Finally, he straightened and looked to Amhran, a faint, genuine smile breaking through the usual, glacial restraint. “Thank you.” he said simply, reaching out to shake Amhran's hand, should the demigod allow him to do so. “For the guidance and the patience.”
