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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.
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It was soothing, and that's as far as Maea wanted to think right now. Like Elizabeth's relaxation techniques, she could focus on one small thing at a time, until the turmoil of her thoughts settled into a stillness like the flickering flame of a candle stilled when a draft was blocked. Receiving the chopping board, she busied herself with peeling onions and chopping them up; her hands moved with practiced ease, trading mastery for solid competency over a task performed to exhaustion over the span of years.
"Where do you usually eat?" she asked after a while, when there was nothing left to chop and her eyes had stopped running from the onion fumes. They could probably fit around the table even with the rose; the idea of sharing a meal with the plant amused her, but since it was Liam's house she'd happily conform to his routines. A tickling notion, that; how many years had it been since she was comfortable enough around anyone to let them make the rules?
Tell the tales of the trail of dead Lovers learned from slower hands
He’d never asked if Maea could cook, although he supposed she must be able to in order to have survived on her own. Liam sprinkled some herbs into the stew as she chopped onions behind him. A few spices and a bay leaf later, he was content with the flavorings. The onion, once it was chopped, went in right behind, and after a few good stirs, the meal was set to simmer for a while.
”At the table, usually,” he said, opening an upper cabinet to procure two bowls and two glasses. ”It’s just habit. With -“ he swallowed, then forced the words out. ”With the kids, it was all about having an intentional meal together as a family.” Nowadays, even though it was just him, sometimes it felt as though their ghosts came to keep him company.
Guessing at which drawer he might be storing spoons, she got the first guess wrong and found her targets upon the second try. Pretending it wasn't strange to rummage among his things, Maea held out her hands for the bowls and went to set them on the table. Seeing his pain flare up at the mention of the dead family made her ache with empathy; she knew the feeling, all too well.
"We were the same, in my family," she shared softly, turning back to gaze at him with a tender smile. "I lived with my brother's family until they were killed. For a short time, we had four generations under the same roof... and mealtime was always a boisterous affair." She hadn't been able to sit alone by the table after the others had passed. The dining room had echoed with voices no one else seemed to hear, until she took her plate and retreated to the kitchen. Then, gradually, she stopped spending time in the house altogether. Only ruins remained of it now, half forgotten in an orchard left to grow wild.
Tell the tales of the trail of dead Lovers learned from slower hands
He wondered, sometimes, what had become of his house back in Stormbreak, with its white picket fence and the perfect climbing tree in the backyard. It had been small, cramped with four people, but gods had it been full of love and light and laughter. This house had always lacked that. He lived here, but it had never felt quite like a home, more like a place where he ate and slept. But that was starting to change, little by little, and he’d found recently that it was a nice enough place to come back to.
”Four generations,” Liam repeated, his brows rising as though in surprise. ”That must have been interesting, indeed.” Had Maea felt as he had, after their deaths? Like they never really left, except they were on a plane of existence where he could not follow?
She laughed, surprised that it didn't hurt as much to think back on those days as it used to. "You could say that. It was my grandfather, father, my brother Noah and myself, his wife and their children. Only two of them ever got to meet gramps before he passed; the youngest never met dad either. But when all of them were still around? Gods, the walls rang with sound from sun up till sundown."
Shaking her head with fond melancholy at the memory, she turned slowly to follow the walls with her gaze, absorbing the simple yet comfortable cabin. She could understand his feeling of being a hermit, if he too had been used to the bustle of a burgeoning family. Did he find it as difficult as she had, to accept that those loved ones were truly gone, never to return? Their absence had been absolute in her case, and she'd found comfort only in the confirmation of Ludo that they were well, and cared for, far more at peace than herself.
Tell the tales of the trail of dead Lovers learned from slower hands
Liam had always thought that the concept of time healing all wounds was a load of crap. With all the time he'd spent away, he thought, he should be healed from his pain a hundred times over. But maybe he'd been going about it wrong. He'd spent years bottling it up, ignoring it all in the hope that it would go away. But talking about the past... it really did seem to help.
When he smiled, there was only a little sadness in it; mostly, there was a soft fondness that spoke of a life well lived. "The kitchen table always seems to be a gathering place, doesn't it?" he asked, thinking back to his own home. "We spent a lot of time there - eating, playing games, sometimes just talking. When my wife and I were busy in the kitchen, the kids liked to draw at the table." He still had the drawings - the ones that he'd managed to salvage, anyway.
" – and if not at the table, then on it, or any other available surface," Maea agreed, grinning broadly. They'd only had charcoal sticks and they were easy enough to clean up, but there had been no end to the mischief the young ones could get up to. Her brother hadn't been a strict father, either; more than once she had caught him saving some scribble or other on some obscure part of a wall, until time and wear faded the lines beyond recognition.
"In comparison, living on my own has been very calm, very quiet, and very boring. Even when I tried living with a roommate this last period before leaving the Grounds, I was alone more often than not - Ophelia was almost never at home at the same time as me." And Maea had spent more time in the Atheneum and her office than anywhere else. It should have been a telling sign long before the debacle with Asta. Even when she'd thought she was settling in, something just kept chafing.
Tell the tales of the trail of dead Lovers learned from slower hands
”Ah, yes, their mixed media masterpieces!” Liam replied with a booming laugh, fond exasperation sparking in his hazel eyes. ”Maven and Wren always seemed convinced that they did their best work on the table. I remember buying some tracing paper just so that we could try and salvage their favorite drawings.” He smiled at the memory. The paper had been expensive, but it had been worth it to see their little faces light up.
Living alone was, in contrast, startlingly quiet. Some might call it peaceful, but when Liam’s family had died, it had been like living in a tomb. Maybe that was why he’d been so eager to go somewhere else and start over. ”I know what you mean,” he said, more serious now. He moved to check on the stew, sampling a mouthful and hissing when it burned his tongue. ”Up until now, the Greatwood has been largely silent. And even before, when I was still trying to make Stormbreak work… I spent most of my time alone.” It had been a long time since he’d had any desire for a life spent with people, and now that it was returning, Liam wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.
”Never tried a roommate,” he added thoughtfully. ”I’m not sure if that would have been better or worse.” It probably depended on the roommate - and on his own interest in living beyond surviving. ”Stew’s ready - but it’s very hot,” he added before he could think twice. Then he grinned. ”I guess that won’t bother you much, though.”
As sudden and boisterous as before, Liam's laugh was something Maea thought she could get used to. She liked the way it lit up his eyes, and the warmth that followed in tid wake. Not wildfire warm, of the kind that burned so hot it might become stifling, but a catnap-in-the-sun, drinks on a Longheat afternoon kind of warmth. Easy, comfortable. As before she caught herself laughing along, his mood contagious in the best of ways.
"What was this place like when Phoebe ruled?" Maea asked as she glided towards the table to take a seat. "I've met her a few times in the past, even wanted to consider her a friend at one point, but we've never been exactly close... From what I know this latest disappearance of hers isn't uncharacteristic." Harper had been devastated by it more than once, and her relation with Sunjata had nearly broken the Flood - and it seemed the Greatwood had been treated little better than the men.
Interrupted before she could get swept away by such brooding thoughts, the Ancient woman chuckled and shook her head. "Not even a little bit. I'll pace myself though - it's pointless to eat alone when I've finally found good company."
03-22-2025, 05:14 AM (This post was last modified: 03-22-2025, 05:15 AM by Liam.)
Tell the tales of the trail of dead Lovers learned from slower hands
Liam thought back to when Phoebe had ruled and sighed. ”Not that different from the way it is now, if I’m honest,” he said, making a face. Phoebe had been lovely, but her disappearance had stung; he’d thought they were on their way to becoming friends, and yet… He wondered, sometimes, if something bad had happened to her, or if she had simply given up on the Greatwood and moved on, like everyone else. ”I arrived here right around the time Phoebe became Guardian, but it didn’t last long - a season or two, perhaps. I remember she met with Frey to find a way to provide fireless light to the Greatwood, so that no one would accidentally burn the forest down.” Not that she’d gotten very far before disappearing. ”But there were only a few people here even then. I’ve never seen it as busy as it is now.”
Liam collected his bowl and went to the stew pot, ladling some of the meal into the bowl. Once he was seated, he stirred it idly, waiting for it to cool. ”Don’t wait on my account,” he said with a grin. ”I hope it’s alright. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s a great meal to make when I want something to last for a few days.” He’d taken to stewing a lot, these days. The less time he spent in the kitchen, the more time he could spend on the hunt with Maea. He wondered if that would change now that she’d found what she was looking for. They had one flower now, but would it be helpful to find more?
”What do we do now?” he asked, finally braving a sip of broth. It had cooled enough for him to eat without burning himself, but he waited until he’d finished speaking to take a full bite. ”We’ll deliver the rose, and then… I have to admit, it’s been nice to have something to do.” And to spend time with Maea - more time than he ever would have dreamed of, and he’d enjoyed every minute.
Gathering her own bowl to serve herself of the stew, Maea settled back opposite Liam at the table and tried a mouthful of the food. It warmed her all the way down the throat - scalding, some would say - and she hummed in approval of the flavors that lingered. "It's really good! Couldn't have made it better myself." It was simple fare, yet still delicious, and she ate with good appetite - only now that she could relax again did she realize how hungry she'd been.
"I get how disheartening that must have been," she replied between spoonfuls. "Perhaps there might be some way to retain any of the people who's come for the roses? One is a miracle, more would be incredible - but considering how it simply appeared before me, I wonder if it wouldn't be just as effective to keep an eye out while we focus on some other project."
Holding up so as not to wolf her food down, the pale woman gazed at the dragoon with lavender eyes turned dark in the subtle light of the room. "Is there any kind of governance right now? Among the fae? Depending on what we want to do, we'd have to ask for permission... Unless you took over, of course." It was meant as a joke, but even as she said it, the idea didn't sound bad at all. Narrowing eyes considered the man across the table all over again; his drive, his generous spirit, the deep need to make a difference... "Actually, why don't you? If Phoebe already asked you to help, that would be as good as any succession to my ears..."
Tell the tales of the trail of dead Lovers learned from slower hands
Disheartening, indeed. Liam had come here to start fresh, and he’d hoped that that goal included something for him to do. When Phoebe had disappeared and the Void had taken over, those dreams had fallen by the wayside in favor of survival. If was only now that Liam had found his way into living again, in no small part thanks to the woman sitting across from him.
”Perhaps,” he said thoughtfully. ”If we meet new people, it might help to find out what they like about their home regions. Maybe that could give us some ideas on how to make the Greatwood more appealing. Right now, I get the feeling that everyone is treating it like a vacation spot, or, now with the roses, they just see it as a place that can fill a need.” No one except for them seemed to find the Greatwood homey, and that was something that Liam felt they should remedy.
Liam took another bite, savoring a bit of venison and carrot. ”Mm, the Fae keep to themselves, mostly. They seem to have their own governance, but they don’t care what we do so long as we don’t interfere with them.” In all his time in the Greatwood, he’d come to a sort of peaceful coexistence with the Fae. He helped them sometimes, but he largely left them to their own devices - and they returned the favor.
Maea’s joke brought on a snort, but when she turned thoughtful, he looked at her, bemused. ”Me?” he asked, wide-eyed. ”But I don’t - I wouldn’t even know where to start!” he protested, except even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. Had he not wanted to contribute in some way? But he’d never considered leadership, and he wasn’t convinced he was suited for it. He was a soldier, not a ruler.
Laughing softly at the bewildered protest, Maea grinned at him with a thoughtful eyebrow rising beneath her bangs. "No? You don't know how to organize a group of individuals and make them move in the same direction? Sounds like the kind of work a soldier would be good at. You know this region as well as any of the fae - what do you think it needs? What does it lack? Figuring that out and doing something about it is the foundation of leadership. I think you'd be good at it."
Pausing to let the thought sink in, the more she spoke the better it sounded. The simple fact that Liam had gained her trust in less than a season spoke volumes of his charisma, something she sorely lacked as evidenced by the number of people she had offended over the past two years
"Already you're considering how to make it more appealing to draw people in - maybe it's not so bad to be a vacation spot. Stormbreak is an academy city, Torchline is a trading hub, King's End and the Grounds are making a name for themselves as havens for various groups of people... and all of them could use a place to go to relax, let their hair down and get lost in the woods for a while. Maybe this influx of explorers is a sign of what the region does offer; hope, and peace, and healing."
She knew it for a fact, because she felt the healing the Woods offered even as they spoke.
Tell the tales of the trail of dead Lovers learned from slower hands
The simple truth of the matter was that Liam didn’t see himself the way that Maea seemed to, and the thought of leadership was never something he’d aspired to. Oh, perhaps a squad of soldiers, but he’d never set out to lead the Dragoons or rise in rank while he was in Stormbreak. Out here, he’d thought he might be in charge of the Greatwood’s security under Phoebe’s rule, but that had seemed like such a simple task with so few people to protect. What Maea was suggesting was something else entirely, something that seemed ludicrous to consider.
Except it didn’t. He’d been here a long time, contributing in his own small way, and the Greatwood had become his home. He wanted to help it grow and thrive even after the influx of visitors. It deserved to have people to love it and cherish it and strive to improve it. People who understood it, like he had come to.
”The Greatwood needs… people, for a start. We’ve got the basic necessities covered by the Fae, but having humans come to stay would do wonders for the economy.” He paused, his stew forgotten, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. ”It needs protection from the Void. You weren’t here when it took over, but it was… terrible.” Liam’s mouth flattened into a line for a moment. ”Once it’s safe and populated, it needs a purpose, as you said. Like the other regions have theirs.”
