From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
The day was nice- and for a stupid fucking reason he was in Halo.
His mind wandered to Aisha- wanting to check in on her, but by the time he arrived he realized he hadn't contacted her nor did he exactly know where she'd be.
So yeah. Safe to say: he wasn't very happy.
He had gone through the portal, venturing out and checking in on Halo for the first time in what felt like ages. His trip wouldn't last long, but he would be stopping by ever so briefly.
This lack of knowing what to do left him wandering around and checking things out. It was on a walk, looking around, that he noticed a pile of snow.
It could've been purposeful but maybe not. It had small high sections with one taller stack in the center. Like a powerful castle. There was a faint smile and Oliver found himself stopping. And with that, he'd add on. Using his earth magic and telekinesis, he'd begin to make a small ring of rock around the castle, like it was a surrounding fence.
Long, sweeping strides carried him throughout the Citadel’s quarters; a daily patrol, combined with a stroll, an inclining of his head in all directions of the unwavering fortitude – eyes upon the sky briefly, and then towards the walls, the masses of people in the market square. A few nods of his head extended to those familiar, and then sharpened, narrowed, as he rounded a corner and found another drifting and amongst the streets.
It took him a moment, blinking, to ponder over the scene. Oliver wasn’t an expected figure, though not unwelcome; but last he’d known and seen of the man had been amongst the Grounds, and the scrawl of a letter, sent in correspondence over his suspicions.
Near a pile of snow.
Maybe…building onto it.
He really couldn’t be sure, and the evidence of his confusion caused a tilt of his head, a. rumble of his voice exuding off of the high-rises, and the multitude of snow. “Oliver,” by address first, brow arching in the midst of the day, his hands lingering down in the makeshift pockets of his furs and coat. “What are you doing?”
The crunching of snow is kind of hard to avoid- but it’s faint. As if it came from someone used to traveling through the land, but he still noticed. His shoulders stiffened as he prepared himself for the worst and he slowly glanced over in the direction. Eyes soften and he finds himself relaxing. Deimos
It isn’t uttered- neither verbally nor through the bond.
It has been ages since he had seen the man. It was kind of nice to see him, but he felt wrong too. It was an odd mixture of emotions and he couldn’t place it nor did he even want to dwell on it.
Thankfully, Deimos granted him with a distraction. ”Hello, Deimos.” His voice was soft, a puff of steam escaping as he spoke. It hinted towards happiness, but mostly remained calm and collected.
His eyes glance back over at the stacks of snow. ”Oh um... I don’t know, I came here to see Aisha? But I’m not sure how to find her- so I just started exploring and I thought this looked cool and got distracted.” Cheeks begin to glow red, either due to the cold or embarrassment, but in reality it was mostly the latter.
”Its a bit childish, I know... just thought it looked like a castle. Ya know? Wanted to build it a wall.”
The Sword couldn’t feel the notions between – not if Oliver kept them enclosed, and Deimos refrained from extending semblances just the same – but he waited for some hint of accord. The blacksmith appeared calm, composed; no distinct sign of panic that might’ve ensued in earlier seasons and years. No outward proclaim of some other disastrous notions – that he might’ve been caught in his letter writing, in his conspiring. Just a greeting, light and poignant, across the void. “You are all right?” A question, curious and indistinct, perhaps mildly puzzled; but there all the same.
The General tilted his head, eyes shifting back to the actions at hand, motioning towards the stacks of snow, at the way Oliver had been searching for Aisha. “Likely at the barracks, or the inn.” He jutted his jaw forward in the direction of the newest hall. “She has been trying to form another Monster Hunter’s Guild.” And then explorations had led him here – to making little snow mounds.
Considering Deimos had taken time out of the last winter to build a sledding ramp, he didn’t judge on miniature castle fortifications. He shrugged his shoulders – snorting mildly. “Then what will you do with it?”
It kinda did look weird. Biting down on his lip, Oliver realized how awkward this was. "Yes- yes I am fine... or fine enough? I'm not having hypothermia, don't worry." He wasn't fine exactly, but Deimos probably didn't care about what was bothering him and nagging him, nor that he was still kind of lonely. That's kind of TMI and Deimos is absolutely not into TMI.
Oliver takes note of Deimos' response, making sure to try and remember it to heart. He'd absolutely have to check those two, absolutely. It had been too long without him seeing Aisha. "I wish her the best of luck- I don't know if I'll join, but I can help make her equipment." Could Deimos just pop it into existence? Yes, but this had meaning.
A light shrug before an idea came to mind. The quirk of a smile and he glanced over to Deimos. "Wanna do something kinda fun? I need to practice more, so how's about this... I protect my lovely Castle and you try to uh... destroy it? I guess. The only rule: no fire." That felt like a valid rule.
Deimos blinked, the head tilt growing vaguely more angled, very canine and feline all at once, as if the transition of shifts in his soul simply kept reflecting in his mannerisms. His features narrowed in the slightest of confusion – for he hadn’t thought of Oliver having hypothermia – but after everything else that had occurred…the response would’ve left him scratching his head. Perplexing. Perhaps they were not talking about the same things.
And what had Safrin told him? That he thought of mountains and offered pebbles? A sigh hovered and breached along his chest, and he had to once again start anew. “I meant if you were fine after your letters. And LongNight.” Unaware of where the blacksmith had been staying, or that he’d been subsequently banned from the Hollowed Grounds after other accords, the General had presumed Oliver had been tucked away in hiding somewhere, waiting for something to give way. A general concern and regard for the other’s welfare.
As far as the notions regarding Aisha, the beast permitted a half-smile. “She would probably like that all the same.”
His brows arched, eyes widening slightly, at the idea of something fun. Mostly because he’d never really seen Oliver do anything amusing. Usually it was some semblance of panic, anxiety, and trepidation, pushing himself into corners he didn’t necessarily want to be within, or didn’t know what to do with once he was there. The monolith’s gaze went to the makeshift castle, and the thought of destroying something just because still had its juvenile tethers and hooks in him, even if he wanted to protest against the use of fire.
Maybe Oliver knew him better than he thought.
“Sure,” by means of acceptance. Perhaps the younger man had grown in his means of magic, and curiosity stoked a modest inquisition in the back of his mind. Thereafter, in one singular volley, the beast’s earthen incantations coiled into the ether, raising several rocks from nearby, and strived to hurl them at the structure.
Cheeks grow red and he rubs the back of his neck. "Oh! Uh..." He trails off and lowers his hand, his head shaking. "Not... really? It's been rough... ya know, leaving the Grounds and moving to the Greatwood. It's super beautiful there, but I still keep visiting other places whenever I can. I like seeing other people and... the Greatwood feels so quiet." Was he truly happy? No. The Greatwood sounded amazing at first, but he still felt so incredibly lonely.
Seeing Aisha would be a small light in his dark life- and he would love it. "I'll try to see her then... we have a lot to catch up on." Henry... the whole betraying the Grounds thing... ya know. Normal stuff.
Deimos responds briefly, but it's all Oliver needed. He prepared himself by simply stretching ever so slightly. There wasn't much else he could do. Deimos was skilled and he couldn't even try to anticipate what the man had in store, aside from banning fire and stuff.
The game had started and already, Deimos wasn't holding back and Oliver was ready to test something he hadn't exactly tried before.
He first worked on creating a wall with rocks as quickly as he could, trying to build it up behind him where the castle of snow was. Meanwhile, he would also try to use a combination of his earth magic and telekinesis to try and stop the rocks midair, hoping to intercept them and instead slam them into the ground between him and Deimos. It was a huge leap of faith, but hey, if it worked out that would be pretty damn cool!
With naught left tying him to the Grounds, Deimos had to wonder if the maneuver had simply been something in Oliver’s best interest. He wasn’t certain of the opportunities presented in the Greatwood – not since Delah had gone – but certainly not the carnage the current Queen inflicted. “You made a bold move against Wessex. I was surprised.” Amused, really. Perhaps even a little impressed; he wouldn’t have originally believed the blacksmith had it in him. But Deimos had been incapable of doing anything with it – and still the Wraith remained, leading her own people to slaughter and pretending it was nothing. A shrug undulated through his shoulders, tossing the topic away before it became too blistering. “Remi has been around to ask us to assist in making defenses for the Greatwood, so you may see more of us soon enough.”
He indicated a nod of understanding in regards to Aisha – though not about whatever notions Oliver had in mind – permitting his attentions to focus on the current task.
The beast didn’t put a grand show of effort in, lifting the rocks, allowing them to maneuver along angles of wind or breezes, tipping them slightly here and there so they appeared unpredictable. Oliver’s little wall around his makeshift castle seemed to do the trick though – as some slammed into the bombardments, and others met his assemblage of incantations, hastening off and bounding elsewhere. Somewhat amused, he contained a small chuckle, before administering more earthen wares.
This time he allowed roots to grow out of the soil, reaching, reaching, reaching beyond walls, intending to nestle and thorn amongst the castle.
The comment wasn’t much, but it was nice to be told he acted boldly. Oliver knew he had been timid and hardly did anything within Caido- but his action made him felt like he had at least done something. ”Yeah- she said she considered banning all Demigods and it felt so wrong... they can help us so much and she at one point wanted to make it so they could never enter. Never help. It prioritized herself over the well-being of the people within.” The people of the Grounds would benefit from the help of the demigods, for sure. That’s how Oliver viewed it at the very least.
There’s a raise of his eyebrow. ”Ill try to offer my help as well- feel free to stop by my new shop and I’ll see what we can make together.” He couldn’t do much compared to Deimos, but who knows. Maybe they could make something great.
The walls and his magic would prove helpful for the time being, repelling away the attack. It would be short lived and Oliver was ready for more, quickly shifting Fox ears in so he’d hopefully be able to listen.
Unfortunately, he shifted a little too late and barely noticed the roots in time. Swearing, he tried his best to use rocks to slam down into the roots, attempting to squash them completely. It wasn’t the smartest of moves, there were probably better ones, but it was the first thing to come to mind.
“It is not easy to make such a maneuver.” More consideration to Oliver then; who’d at least set out to accomplish a mission, even if it flattened out in the surge of possibilities. Maybe later it would be more defined. Or at least act as foreshadowing, as an ominous declaration of what the world was coming to. At the other comment though, the beast muffled the slightest round of laughter, encompassing it into a knowing air instead. “Sounds like Wessex.” A main characteristic of her qualities in certainty and absolute truths – from what they’d all seen and experienced.
At Oliver’s next suggestion, his brow arched slightly. “You have a shop in the Greatwood?” Years before they hadn’t been welcome; no one but the Fae, and it’d taken some time to manifest their way into a world eternally yearning to spit them back out again. “We can see.” Another small smile, before the rest of the wakes were put in place.
Deimos watched the rocks shift over some of the roots. The struck earthen components wilted and peeled back and away easily, but the remainders attempted to continue their escalation and climb, meandering in certainty, intending to wrap and snare over castle foundations.
That was one way to put it. ”Oh, absolutely. I live in such a tiny home now! I need to get a cat or something because damn is it too quiet.” The manor felt different. It had so many things to do, but this new home? It was small. He was forced to face his loneliness. Especially considering it was much harder to visit others now.
”Yeah. She’s become a real ass. You’d expect her to care about the locals, but nope.” Oliver had a lot of distaste towards the woman and it was obvious talking about her wasn’t something he enjoyed. He had plenty of reasons to not like Wessex, maybe too many.
A small nod. ”Yes- If you ever need anything let me know. Advertise for me too, I could use some sales.” A smile and even a wink, it was playful in nature but he was honest. He really wanted some more visitors and guests at the shop.
One of the vibes managed to take down one of the pillars, one towards the outside. A growl and Oliver found his teeth shifting ever so slightly, canines turning to fangs. He wanted to leap and attack but held himself back. He had to act differently.
Using his own earth magic, he did his best to fight back against Deimos’ magic, trying to control the plants in the opposite direction. Meanwhile, his rocks became very violent. Raising in the air before slamming down into the vines and trying to rip them away.
Another arch of his brow, another notion of thought curling and coiling through his mind. “You could always get a companion.” Deimos would’ve been lost without Zuriel well before sickness struck him down; and likely dead – perished from one of the many misadventures amidst these encompassing years. Belial was another new factor, a bridge between like souls – and he had enough room for all of them in that entity and space.
At the indication of Wessex, the Sword wondered if she always had been, or if it was an alteration in viewpoints. In experiences. In the knowledge that there were other methods, other ways, of dealing with dilemmas. Or if it was simply the range of being the Voice’s demigod – and therefore, that was all that truly mattered, in the end. Nothing was ever her fault. The victim, sufferer, the casualty; forgetting those that actually were the injured or deceased parties. “Shame,” was all he could surmise from everything else – he’d had enough thoughts on the Wraith for the day. “Perhaps they will do something out about it then.”
Considering Deimos had recently begun pulling back on the constant giving, generous donations, and crafting simply because someone wanted an item, with naught more than semblances of entitlement, Oliver presented a good option. “I can do that.” A swift nod – and then the blacksmith would have some business, and the Sword could be left without some biting overtures from selfish, avaricious individuals.
The incantations flickering forth segmented back in brutality – though now they were distracted, vines fighting against one another’s precision and pathways. To any onlooker it might’ve been somewhat ridiculous – several of the earthen wares doing naught more than twitching in mid-movement, combatting strength and fortitude.
But Oliver’s efforts served as a worthy distraction, because during the hostilities, the rocks slammed down upon several of the other roots, mauling them into nothing, dispersing and slithering back to where they’d come from.
A companion... that did sound lovely. A thoughtful hum. ”How would I get one? I know it’s a special sort of connection, but I’m not sure how you meet them. How it even happens.” It seemed almost completely random, as if other hands were guiding the results. But alas, maybe that was a little too much thinking for now.
But Deimos, oh poor Deimos. That’s a tad too optimistic. ”I wish... I’m scared. I hope we can just keep the people safe, especially those who feel like they can’t abandon the home they’ve had for hundreds of years.” Wessex had stolen so much from so many people. It was a narcissistic thing to do and Oliver found it revolting. To manipulate people for her own well being? Disgusting.
No more was said on the other. Nothing much to add other than a simple nod, satisfied with the conclusion the two had come to.
But now, now they had to focus. Or well, Oliver had to focus and hope Deimos somehow lost his.
His distraction was satisfactory, despite one of the castle pillars tumbling to the ground. One casualty was fine, hopefully.
”You got anything else?” There was a smirk, as if tempting Deimos to attempt once more. Otherwise, Oliver was ready to call this a victory for himself. Yes, Deimos was absolutely holding back, but hey, he was learning.
A raise of his brow followed the inquiry, eyes roaming, pinpointing, on segments beyond, contemplating the question. “I have found mine by chance.” Zuriel, while he was bleeding and fading beyond a shrine’s touch, where landsharks prevailed and chased. Belial, while following the sounds of screams. But there were other ways, other machinations, other means, besides lodging faith and luck into the mix. “I heard you can ask the gods for one.” Curiosity compelling, because he wasn’t certain what sort of bonded would suit the blacksmith, the grumble continued and consisted. “What would you want?”
And he listened – to Oliver’s fears, to the way citizens would inevitably end up in the crossfire of whatever was to come. Wessex had given up leadership before, relinquished it to votes, to her own society. If each of them were unhappy again, the Wraith would likely hear. “Do they stay regardless of leadership?” Look at how many of the others had dispersed – found their way through means of growth, potential, renewal, or something else compelling them elsewhere. What was left of the Grounds but Ascended brethren and some scattered Naturals? Maybe they were loyal to a fault. Maybe they served their realm with distinction because of barriers and things they knew, they understood. Deimos could comprehend that, but not under the Wraith’s reign.
Though he had to snort at Oliver’s following insinuation; a bit too cocky, a bit too smug, for the Sword’s liking, following it was a flattened, exasperated glance. “You must realize I am putting no effort in.” Not from a man who’d helped fell sea panthers, mauled landsharks, destroyed portions of the Spire, and fought off countless other quandaries. The castle didn’t matter to him, but it seemed to do so for Oliver.
So he ignored the roots for a moment, and launched a tirade of Air, permitting it to circle, to descend, in hopes of battering down on the barricades.
