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!
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
Half a season gone and so too had the governmental structure she’d known for what felt like lifetimes – even when it hadn’t been – and while Torchline had been recognized for its turmoil, it wasn’t often in the switching of leadership. And for a few moments, Melita wasn’t really sure what to do or how to go about something she’d promised before she left. Her uncle had been one thing, and this a whole other multitude she hadn’t expected.
So she sent along a note and busied herself – taking great measures along the beach to scout out a fairly accessible area, but scattering anyone around in the vicinity with her obvious target building and hankering of weaponry. The ember-laden youth rounded over a few stones, piling them on top of one another, haphazard and askew, before layering sticks and brush, and then doing the same to others, ensuring the distance was adequate from one to the other. They looked utterly ridiculous by the end of it, some with strands of boughs that could’ve been marked as arms, some variety of limbs, or ready to fall down at a moment’s notice. Fangorn, shaking his head upon the sidelines, rolled his eerie eyes.
Unbothered by this, since it was the usual way, Melita shrugged and moved forward, grabbing hold of her bow while she waited for Maeve, steadying her breath, notching a training armament into the strands. Familiar, at ease, a comfort to her, as she pulled the strand taut, and listened to it fly.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
08-03-2021, 07:24 PM (This post was last modified: 08-03-2021, 07:24 PM by Maeve.)
Maeve
Things had changed in Torchline. In ways that no one was truly expecting. Not even Maeve, but they were handling it. They had plans in the works, ideas to make the stronger, and thoughts on how exactly they would lead this region in a way that benefited all of those within its borders. Torchline wasn't the only thing in need of getting stronger. Maeve was too. With her new weapon in hand and Aidon at her side, she set off towards the beach were she was meant to meet the honeybee, an excitement thrumming in her veins.
There was nothing but determination pushing her forward now. Despite how her talk went with Locke, despite that lingering numbness, Maeve could not slow down and she wouldn't. Too many things to get done. Too many things to prepare. It's easy to spot the fiery shock or red hair on the beach, the area sequestered off by the youth for their training purposes and her steps slow as an arrow suddenly whizzed through the air to strike one of the targets.
"Very nice." She called from a distance, offering her a wave and a smile, sending Aidon ahead of her to greet his gourd friend. The dragon bounded ahead, trilling and whistling at Fangorn, instantly ducking his head down to nudge him gently despite his speed in which he barreled forward. "Glad to see you made it back alright."
And I was catching my breath Staring out an open window catching my death
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
It slid into the rock where there might’ve been a designated bullseye – before falling into the sand, and the call came over the wind. She half-turned her body, head shifting over her shoulder, to see and recognize Maeve – waving with her free hand – as she went to retrieve the arrow. Aidon was welcomed eagerly, easily, by a grumbling Fangorn, and maybe a playful swat of vines, while the two women settled into the business for the moment.
Except Melita wasn’t quite sure how to approach things anymore, and her nose wrinkled somewhat, eyes narrowing, before shifting it all away as the Queen approached. “Thank you. I hear Torchline went through quite a change.” No notes of bitterness, of anything really – a cool, measured tone, something she was trying to practice when eventuality pierced through and she’d have to discuss things with her uncles. “Congratulations, by the way.” Maybe that sounded normal. She wasn’t really sure anymore.
Then she stepped aside, maneuvering her bow upwards. “Feel free to give it a whirl,” motioning to the three targets, all lined up in differential distances – from easy to difficult.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
A flush rose to her cheeks and she ducked her head at Melita's comment, a nod of sorts, confirming that Torchline had gone through a change. More of one than she was expecting. Still, Melita was a follower of the Old Gods. Surely she understood that to turn down such an opprotunity from a herald would have made no real sense at all. "It has, but a change that I hope will be for the better. Both Aurelia and I have plans. Plans that are possible thanks to the groundwork that Sunjata laid down before us." She said softly, offering the honeybee a small smile, hoping that she would see that she was genuine in this.
"Thank you, though. It was unexpected, but I'm going to try my best to do what's right by our region." They already were by creating the fountain. It would benefit the people as a whole to have access to healing in that way. Not only for possibly injuries in the coming war, but for those that are already suffering ailments that haven't been able to be treated due to lack of magic.
Maeve turned her attention to the targets then, stepping around the two companions who were already intent on having an impromptu wrestling match in the sand beside them, uncaring if they hindered the training of the two women. "I brought my bow, but Safrin did give me something new to try as well..." She said, already moving to draw the string of her weapon back, intent on practicing with that first. Maeve released her arrow towards the middle target, striking what might have been considered the shoulder, arrow head wedging into the space between the rock and branch.
And I was catching my breath Staring out an open window catching my death
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
And Aurelia.
What a meteoric rise for her friends. Melita wasn’t quite sure how to pinpoint her reaction, surprise had lasted for as long as it could hold, and the angles, the namesakes (Queen just reminded her of Zariah and sent some bitterness down the length of her spine), and everything nestled in between. She could fathom a herald’s command; but something still twisted and turned in her backbone. Unsettled.
The credit to her uncle made her arch a brow, notching another arrow, fingers flickering over the feathers lined up at the ends, tongue running behind her teeth to muffle something else. “What sort of plans?”
Fangorn and Aidon keeping to themselves, there were only the targets and dominions left to bombard. And Melita was ready to relish it, to laden her rancor and hostility and acrimony straight into the wake with every mighty pull and tug. Her eyes watched Maeve’s sink into mock-shoulder blades, and then she turned, twisted, to the farthest target.
It sailed through the air with all the force of her layered vitriol, ravaging hard and fast into a wooden eye-socket.
Only then did she offer more attention to the Queen. “What did Safrin give you?”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
This has been the reaction of most people lately. Uncertainty, worry about what this meant for Torchline, concerns that they wouldn’t be fair. Jack definitely hadn’t been happy. Until Maeve offered him the seat on the council and promised that the Ark would eventually fly. Only then had he lowered his hackles and put away his claws.
”There is a fountain in the government building and we’ve asked Safrin to give it healing capabilities. Once we finish the quest, the waters of the fountain will have the same ability to heal as someone who has mastered the magic.” Maeve informed her, hoping that Melita saw the use in that as much as the others did. It was silly, but Maeve wanted her new friend’s approval and support. ”Aurelia is off wrangling up Unicorns for it now. I’m planning a trip to Frey’s Breath to gather water for it as well.” It was an offer for her to come if she wished, knowing how much the honeybee enjoyed getting out and stretching her legs.
As for what Safrin had given her… Well, that was something entirely more fun. The Nightshade removed the whip from her hip, uncoiling it carefully, holding onto the end of it so Melita might examine the phoenix feather that adorned the tip. ”I haven’t had a chance to properly use it yet, but it ignites when cracked.”
And I was catching my breath Staring out an open window catching my death
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
Healing waters, blessed by Safrin, fountains in government buildings. Was that what they’d needed? Melita didn’t know, couldn’t say, and was obviously out of politics for an absurd number of reasons. Perhaps with coming wars, hostilities, and acrimonies, it was a decent idea. So her eyes glanced Maeve’s way, and gave a swift nod – not granting or giving support one way or the other. Too confused, too muddled, too focused on what everything else meant. Why change was so swift and so difficult. The gradual breaking apart of things she couldn’t quite name any longer.
“Let me know if you need help. I’ve been to Frey’s Breath before.” Not an easy travel, but familiar just the same.
Notching another arrow, she glanced at Maeve’s newfound gift out of the corner of her eye. Phoenix feathers and whips that ignited – Melita gave a soft snort, either visibly impressed or simply wanting to see it set alight (probably the latter). “Give it a whirl then.” And then she lifted her bow once more, pulling back the strand with familiar airs, listening to it sing through the wind as it pinpointed into a target’s abdomen.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
"If you're willing to come along then I would appreciate the help. It would be difficult for me to do it all myself. We need a couple of casks worth, I imagine." Enough to fill the fountain itself and replace the water that's already in it. The unicorns that Aurelia was gathering would likely play a part in imbuing the water with healing properties too, but Maeve couldn't say for sure. All she knew was that this needed to get done. Still, the Nightshade was grateful for the offer either way and would be happy to accept any help given to her by those around her. Melita included.
At Melita's encouragement, Maeve got a hold of her weapon, feeling the leather in her hand as it warms to her touch. She draws in a breath and with it the whip moves, snapping through the air towards the closest target and releasing a small sonic boom as it ignites, embers floating off of the length of it before leaving a scorch mark on the stone that Maeve hits. The makeshift target wobbles dangerously for a moment, but settles once more. "Well, that's definitely something."
And I was catching my breath Staring out an open window catching my death
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
“Sure,” by way of consideration, a barely glossed over parameter. Assistance was assistance, and while the Climb could take some time, Melita would be armed to the teeth with all her usual provisions, in case there were other threatening modicums. She’d be eager to traipse near or about the hot springs again, just the same.
Walking away momentarily to snag at her arrows littering the ground or stuck in a target, she carried them back in her clenched fists, and then rounded her sights to Maeve’s new weapon. The crack was enough to jump multitudes of people out of their skin, and the resulting impacts of embers, of flames, scorching against stone, was something else entirely. “Very nice,” she gave with a Cheshire-grin approval. The youth could always approve of flames.
Returning to her previous post, her eyes gestured to a few hels searching and scourging along the damp sand nearby; not wholly encompassed by the waves, but drifting closer and closer in their urgency for food. There was pause of consideration, before her smile enveloped all over again, and she notched her arrow, the blunted training end still in tact. “See if you can hit those birds?”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
Melita seemed impressed enough by her use of the whip that Maeve felt a little surge of confidence. Her smile grew and she followed her attention towards the birds that the Honeybee pointed out, narrowing her eyes in consideration, shifting closer to the new targets. The Nightshade adjusted the grip on her whip, thumb brushing across the bands of leather, tracing the stitching there before she took a breathe. It would be the first real thing she hurt with her new weapon and a part of her was worried what it might do.
With a strong flick of her wrists and the resounding crack that came from the whip, she struck out against the Hels, catching the first one in its side. The fire burns quickly, catching the birds feathers, keeping it grounded when it attempted to fly away. Maeve doesn't let it suffer, lashing out a second time to put it out of its misery, leaving it smoldering on the ground.
And I was catching my breath Staring out an open window catching my death
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
Melita, either fortunately or unfortunately, had long since been experienced in hunting and mauling animals – either demonic, monstrous ones, or the simple matter of prey, for survival. So while she wasn’t particularly bothered by any aspects of such actions, she often wondered if others would be – the gentle, kind-hearted, compassionate individuals. That Maeve was willing surprised her a little, but she didn’t voice the thoughts, prepping and arranging her own arrow for the fine art of precision.
The crack and flames of the whip were a definite distraction however, and she lifted her head from the bow to watch and bear witness as feathers caught flame, and then smoldered upon the ground. The girl rounded out a snort, and then a whistle; still impressed. “How did that feel?” Was that something the new ruler found triumphant? Wanting to do again? Or would it always be a defensive means, rather than assaulting and sieging? Maybe it was something to mull over – given her recent position.
Unperturbed by the entire thing, the youth’s arrow chased after one of the fleeing Hels; though blunted as it was, the bird was knocked askew in its flight, caught in a tailspin and certainly not nearly as elegant in rampant miscalculations as Maeve’s bird.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
It was a strange feeling. Truly strange. Maeve wasn't one to seek out violence. Not willingly at least. However, she knew that being comfortable with such a thing was a necessity. How could she potentially protect herself if she grew squeamish every time she had to lash out at something? It simply wouldn't do. So she practiced. First on the goat, then the vampire gourds, and now the Hels. There were surely more foes out there for her to face in time, but for now this would simply have to do.
"It has a different sort of give then the targets do. Flesh to connect with instead of stone." Maeve told her after a moment, turning the handle of the whip over in her hand again and again, growing comfortable with the weight of it in her palm. It wasn't until Melita sent another Hel tail spinning in the air that she struck once more, a crack and flash of flame following the attack, igniting the already injured bird completely.
And I was catching my breath Staring out an open window catching my death
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
She watched the spinning Hel met its end in glimpses of fire – never flinching away, but staring back charred feathers, wondering, pondering, studious in the distinction. Maybe there was more bite to Maeve than anyone realized. Maybe sovereignty was going to bring about a lot more change than they’d imagined. The youth swallowed down another thought, before going to retrieve her arrows.
She nodded at the response though, understanding it full well, considering the amount of daggers and knives at her disposal. They simply weren’t her favored weapons; not with the staff and bow to consider first. Regardless, it was an extension of the Queen that would likely serve her well.
Considering the time, and Maeve’s pregnancy, the youth glanced over the rest of the scattered targets, the decimated birds. “Was there anything else you wanted to work on?”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
It was an extension of her. That much was true. The same could be said for her bite. The Queen might have looked unassuming. Petite and delicate and all soft curves. Except there was venom in her veins and enough bite to make whoever bleed. Maeve straightens, coiling her whip up as she presses a hand to her belly, catching her breath. "Any other time I would press for more, but it's getting late and carrying this baby around tires me out."
She huffs softly, offering Melita a small smile before releasing a whistle, calling Aidon back to her side. The dragon gives Fangorn one final playful nudge before bounding back towards his bonded. "Thanks for doing this with me. I'm sorry I couldn't manage more."
And I was catching my breath Staring out an open window catching my death
