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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!
The world's a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes,
When the crew finally made it up the coast to King's End, Thal took a break from everyone else, letting them explore the port and city on their own, without her breathing down their backs. Instead, she broke out alone, hands shoved in pockets as she wandered the region. She hadn't spent much time in the area, especially with all the snow still littering the ground. It already stiffened her joints, her movements sluggish against the cold. As such, she was drawn like a moth to where a fire reportedly stood at the center of a maze.
Not wanting to waste time getting lost in a row of sentient hedges, Thal flew as a lyvern towards the middle, easily spotting the flames that rose from an ornate pit. Landing gracefully, she adjusted her cloak around her shoulders, stepping close enough to let her fingers play in the tendrils of flame. A low hum started in her chest, almost a purr with a melody that twisted through the garden like a comforting ocean breeze that called to the tides.
the friends I've had to bury they keep me up at night.
Hadama had also found his way to King's End, though he had come through moonlight rather than over the waves. He walked through the maze, sharp eyes noting the encroaching signs of violet flowers amid the Flowerbirth buds of red and yellow, pink and white that dotted the vibrantly green, young leaflets that had unfurled throughout the walls of the ancient hedges. There were shadows skittering through the labyrinth just out of sight, and a sense of being watched that made his steps light though he did not rush his pace.
And he ran into his share of dead ends as the living labyrinth shifted around him. But he was both patient and persistent, and he followed the rules of the hedges until they - grudgingly - allowed him to find his way to their center.
The crackle of fire alerted him to how near he was to the heart of the Queen's Gambit, and the quiet hum of another's voice reached his ears just before he stepped into the clearing that held the legendary Eye of Fire. It no longer surprised him when he ran into those he knew in these distant places. Perhaps it was fate, or the lines of karma, but he only smiled to himself at seeing Thalassa's familiar shape outlined in fire, the sound of her song a lure to the once-Mer.
Unlike most Mer, however, Hadama did not sing. Not, at least, publicly. But he did hum, on occasion, and the bass rumble of his voice, deep and thrumming, joined softly beneath Thalassa's melody in quiet harmony like the steady rise and fall of the tide.
The world's a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes,
She heard the low hum of his voice before the soft footfall of his steps, her own hum shifting to accommodate the new participant. As her eyes lifted to find Hadama across the fire, her mouth tilted into a pleased grin, pleasantly surprised to see her friend amongst the confines of the maze. It seemed too sweet a moment to break with words, one that had her shoulders releasing their hold on the chill, the warmth of the fire seeping into her hands and heart like it might just take residence there. Her eyes moved between him and the surroundings, fingers playing in the flames as she embodied a semblance of 'tranquility' that was rarely on her features.
After another minute of content, harmonious humming, she finally let her tune fade to silence, a thought coming to mind as she looked at Hadama. "Do you know any Mer songs?" Although casual, there was a deeper undertone of aching curiosity, a desire to reclaim something of her past that didn't involve relationships or sappy childish emotions. Being the king of the Mer, it made sense to her that he might know one of the songs of his people, hoping that he might be willing to share it with her.
the friends I've had to bury they keep me up at night.
Her smile was met with his own and he inclined his head in greeting, though he did not stop the humming music of his song. He paced with unhurried serenity across the young grass to join her in front of the fire, content to absorb its warmth as they stood shoulder to shoulder - or shoulder to ribs, at least - in the calm heart of the hedgemaze. Unlike the Ancient he kept his hands at his sides rather than trying to dip them into the fire, but he watched the dance of flames with the quiet fascination that fire had always held for him since he had been a Mer.
As Thal's voice faded so did his own. He followed her lead and let his humming die into a silence a few notes before hers, so that the Ancient's voice was the last to linger, closing the song she had begun. He was content to simply enjoy her company in quiet for a while, but her question drew his eyes down to her, soft and thoughtful as he heard the yearning beneath the casual question.
"Yes." He tilted his head at her, a lilt of wry humor in twitch of his lips, unusually self-deprecating in the confident king. "Though I leave the singing to my sister." He closed his eyes, inclining his head in acquiescence, however, and searched his memory. "Mer songs are meant to be sung underwater. The sound is... different, there. And our language is not meant for air. But--"
He began to hum again, softly at first but with a steady rumble as he shared the notes of one of the lullabies that his father had sung for his children in decades past.
The world's a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes,
His admission made her smile, a teasing look in her eyes as she expected him to reject her unspoken request, especially as Hadama spoke of the specific 'mechanics' of the Mer songs, and their seeming lack of translation. However, when he closed his eyes, she was surprised to hear a string of notes filter from him, soft yet beautiful.
Thal closed her own eyes, an uncharacteristic tranquility coming over her expression as she listened to the rumbling hum of his voice. It was calm like the waves of a setting sun, lulling and inviting in its melody. She didn't know the song, but Thal's soul resonated with recognition, the trickle of a harmony sparkling in the darkness. Words rose in her mind, perhaps not the ones that the Mer sung in their own language, but ones that sang through her like a memory, graceful and soothing as an ocean breeze.
"Do not fear what comes on the waves,
For fear is an anchor that stops the voyage.
Let your heart be brave,
And your laughter save,
And do not fear what may come on the waves.
Do not worry for what tomorrow brings,
For worry is an anchor that stops the voyage.
Let your heart sing,
And your laughter ring,
And do not worry about what tomorrow brings.
Do not fight the peace that weighs,
For peace is an anchor that keeps you steady.
Let your heart sway,
And your laughter bay,
And let peace bless your voyage another day."
Her voice faded to a low hum again, the words echoing around her in the stillness of the garden, the crackling of fire a constant third to their duet. As she opened her eyes again, there was a peace there, the distant emotions of a forgotten memory easing against her heart, unfamiliar yet comforting. She didn't immediately banish the feeling, knowing Hadama wouldn't judge her - even if she refused to get sentimental over the matter. Instead, she turned to look up at the Mer King, a smile on her face. "I'd say you can sing just fine."
the friends I've had to bury they keep me up at night.
It was not an exact translation, but it was not too far off considering it came from the depths of lost memory and had to pass through a forgotten language into her current one. Hadama opened one eye partially to watch her as he held the melody steady in his sonorous hum, taking in the peace in her expression with a quiet contentment of his own. Even when they both faded their last notes to silence and only the crackle of the fire broke the peace of the air the camaraderie remained.
He felt as much as heard when she looked up at him, the warmth of her gaze as welcome as the fire's blaze against his skin. He tilted his head to meet her gaze and the corners of his mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile before he dipped his head in appreciation of her compliment. "Thank you. You sing beautifully as well." And though it was rare for him to speak of his personal life to any above the waves who did not already know it, Thalassa was an exception in so many ways. He looked back to the fire, gaze a little distant as he stared into its heart. "My father was a historian of the previous Court, under King Maru. He sang the histories of our people. A reminder of where we came from. Of the mistakes we had made before, so we would not make them again." He looked back to the captain, his smile remaining with no evidence of sorrow. "He is retired now. Mostly." Which did not stop him from advising the new King - in spite of, or perhaps because of, the filial ties between them.
The world's a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes,
She smiled at the compliment, bumping him lightly in the shoulder as she turned her gaze back to the fire. Her fingers still played in the warmth, watching as it ran over knuckles and fingernails, kissing her wrists before swirling back down to her fingertips in a soft caress.
Her ears perked as Hadama began to speak of his family, of the father he obviously held fondness for. There was a hint of jealousy in her smile, but she didn't let it taint the moment, glancing at the Mer King with a softness that few saw. "He sounds very wise." It was something she knew she'd never have, a kind of quiet consideration and respect for the past, a restraint to use that knowledge for future decisions rather than stab first and ask questions later. Despite that, she tilted her head, another sweet hum accenting her words. "Hmm... I might like to hear those someday - that is, if you don't mind sharing." It felt safer than discovering her own family's history, a way to pay homage to her roots without changing who she currently was or attempting to return to whatever life she had previously led. However, she wasn't a Mer anymore, and she understood if it was too much to share their history with an outsider. Maybe it would be safer that way.
the friends I've had to bury they keep me up at night.
"He is," Hadama agreed simply, though there was something deeper hidden beneath his words. A son's complex and layered relationship with a father who had been infallible, and then a fool, and then a friend, and now a mentor across the many years of his life. A relationship that he had reason to suspect that Thalassa still did not remember, for all that she had reconnected with her mother.
He lifted his hands, looking down at them contemplatively before extending them towards the fire in an echo of Thalassa's move, though he stopped well back from the lively colors of the flames themselves. It was enough to absorb their warmth from a safe distance for one who was so closely aligned with water and the cool silver spill of moonlight. His lips quirked faintly up once more, however, at her request. "He would be happy to share them, if you would come visit us in the City again. Have you recalled our language?" There was, as far as he knew, no translation of their histories into the language of the landwalkers. For all the strokes that had been made in bridging the distances between land and sea, the past of the Mer had never affected those above in the same ways that the actions of humans had sent ripples - and occasional tidal waves - down into the world of the Mer.
The world's a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes,
Thal sensed the bit of tension in Hadama's expression, wondering as to what may have caused it. But she didn't ask, not one to pry into family issues given her own. Instead, she tilted her head to consider his question, trying to imagine hearing the language. It felt like there might be something lingering in the back of her mind, something she couldn't quite recall, couldn't quite grasp.
Her eyes narrowed with uncertainty as she stared into the licking flames. "I... don't know." They weren't words she often spoke aloud to others, refusing to admit her own lack of knowledge, no matter how absurd. They felt strange on her tongue, and Thal continued to puzzle over the language barrier. Even if she could understand it, she couldn't speak through the Attuned bond, so what would it matter? Would she still be able to appreciate it through the warping of the waves? That was even assuming she understood any of it, rather than just hearing incomprehensible syllables.
Despite everything telling her it was a pointless endeavor that would only lead to disappointment, Thal wanted to know, wanted to see what pieces of her past might still linger. And if Hadama was willing to help with that... she gave him a smile tinged with something almost akin to hope as she added, "But I'd like to find out."
the friends I've had to bury they keep me up at night.
It was not tension that brought any change to his expression, but simply the complexities in a relationship that had been foundational to his life and that had evolved over the decades. Whatever misunderstanding there was, however, was unnoticed by the former-Mer, and he asked his question of Thalassa instead.
A glance to the side showed the concentration on her face as she wrestled with the memories of skills she had forgotten or lost in the destruction and remaking of her soul into one of Dygra's creatures, and her honesty - and the vulnerability that came with it - drew a slow nod from the Tidebreaker. Her willingness to try, however, coaxed the smile to his face as he looked back to the fire. "The next time you are in Torchline, we will go beneath the waves and see if you can understand me." The Merfolk had a verbal language all their own, beyond the mental connection of the Attuned bond, but it was more akin to tonality of whalesong than the comparatively monotone vocalizations of landfolk.
He paused for a moment, basking in the peace between them, but then drew a slow breath to speak again. This time his expression fell into more solemn lines, though he did not shift his gaze from the heart of the fire just yet. "And I can speak more freely of what I have been doing now with the flowers we have found, if you still wished to know."
The world's a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes,
Smiling softly, she nodded her head. "It's a plan then." Thal could feel the swell of hope in her chest, eager to find out whether the feelings meant anything, whether some of her previous self might still hide deep within the recesses of her memory. But she didn't give it purchase, too familiar with disappointment to be willingly let down again so soon, choosing to treat it as an awaiting adventure.
Playing with the fire, she tried not to seem too shocked at the words he uttered, glancing to find him focused on the flames. There had certainly been pain surrounding his refusal to tell her any of the plans within Torchline, to keep her out of whatever schemes were being plotted. To hear that he might be willing to trust her...
Thal looked away, gripping her hand around a tendril of flames to calm the beat of her heart, the compliment not lost on her. However, she wouldn't ask him to do something that may compromise whatever they intended, and she didn't want him to say something because he thought her too sensitive to respect his need for discretion. As such, she shrugged her shoulders, giving him space to decide without her interference. "Only if you're free to tell me."
the friends I've had to bury they keep me up at night.
"Mmh. As the young folk might say: a date." He spoke the words with utter solemnity, his expression serious and as grave as if they were discussing plans for war. And yet there was that twinkle in his eyes that those who knew him well - and Thalassa was counted among that number - would recognize for what it was.
Mischief, and a humor as dry as Hak Etme.
But he would not waste this chance for them to speak in private. Not when he had already let too much silence grow between them. Her shrug indicated indifference and her words were ambivalent, but he nodded slowly in response before turning his gaze back to the fire. "Yes. We have learned more about Starfall. What lies on it, and within it. We are collecting roses and lilies for cleansing it." He paused, a faint frown marring his smooth brow with a wrinkle of unhappiness. "Their... Voice... can eavesdrop on conversations. Even in the Attuned bond. Invisible and undetectable. We must be careful of speaking our plans aloud to anyone. So when we plan a foray we must be discrete, to avoid a... hmm. A welcoming committee."
He sighed softly, a faint puff of breath lost in the crackle of flame. "It was fear that kept me from sharing my plans with you and Maea before. I am strong, Thalassa, but compared to Deimos and Sunjata I am... mh. The weakest link in our team. And the one most likely to fall beneath a sustained attack." Not an easy thing for a demigod to admit, much less a king. It was a painful truth that he offered her in apology for his wounding secrets, and though he stood as tall and poised as ever his gaze did not waver from the flames as he spoke, unwilling to meet the eyes of another when he had made himself so vulnerable.
The world's a little blurry, or maybe it's my eyes,
Despite the seriousness of his expression, the words alone would have given him away, even as she saw the glint in his eyes very clearly. It was hard not to laugh at Hadama's joke, and Thal shook her head in disbelief, a crooked smile on her face. "Sure. A 'date.'" Whatever he wanted to call it, she'd be happy to attend.
As topics turned more serious, so did her expression, an annoyed scowl on her face. "Vox certainly seems to be a problem." Considering the one time she'd met(?) him was when she'd been in a very... compromised position, she didn't have the best opinion of the creature(?). And to know that no form of communication was safe didn't reassure her, understanding the strategic concerns of being unable to hide their plans. Her head nodded, wondering if there might be other options or avenues they hadn't explored, but then Hadama was sighing, drawing her attention back to him.
To hear him admit fear told her the gravity of the situation had her body tensing slightly at the idea that she might lose him for some time, her eyebrows raising with a mixture of shock and fear that she mostly hid. She hated every second of that moment, her head shaking to clear it so she might be supportive in spite of her own selfish emotions. "You're one of the strongest, kindest people I know, Hadama. If anyone can succeed, it's you." Her eyes looked to him with the sparkling blue of their ocean depths, hoping to instill him with some of the confidence she felt in his capabilities, having experienced them personally. However, she also offered a small nod and her words. "But if there's any way I can help, all you have to do is ask." Trainings, missions, strategy, she was willing to lend a hand where he needed. She wouldn't sit aside while her friends risked themselves.
the friends I've had to bury they keep me up at night.
"It is," Hadama concurred to the problem of Vox, his jaw tight. "Safrin knows of a way to keep him out of an area. A small one, at least. But it requires a physical piece of the creature, and I do not know a way to gain this." Not when Vox so rarely made a physical appearance anywhere and even when it did, well... 'physical' seemed to be more of an affectation of the staticky Family member rather than the requirement of existence the rest of them operated under.
But with this knowledge, perhaps Thalassa could come up with an idea. Having another sharp mind on the problem could only help.
His thoughts turned inward then, speaking of a truth that he had admitted to few others. He had accepted the risks in full knowledge of what he stood to lose. Not merely a few months upon the world, but the time also lost to the fight. The cost to Flora, who would find herself solely in charge of all Torchline. And the uncertainty of what would become of his body if Deimos and Sunjata could not reclaim it, entombed within the stronghold of the Void and the Family and subject to whatever indignities or experiments they wished to perform upon it while his untethered soul could not defend it.
But it had not come to pass in their first foray, and he did not intend to ever let it get that far. Thalassa's confidence in him was a welcome balm, all the more because he knew she did not offer empty flattery to anyone. He turned away from the fire at last to look down into her sea-blue eyes, and he inclined his head deeply in thanks for her support. "Thank you, Thalassa. I would ask your help to strengthen my gravity magic, once I have learned what I must do from Safrin. And for your company on a hunt to push back the Void in the Climb, if you are available?"
