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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!
There was little choice other than to endure. Nodding with a quivering smile, she sank onto the ground and huddled up into a ball in an attempt to preserve what little warmth remained in her limbs, while Liam took off in search of wood. Lucky they were in a forest - wood was in good supply, and though her head swam a bit, it couldn't have been many minutes before he returned.
A breathless laugh did escape her as he asked for flint. She would have some in a pocket, normally, out of habit if not need, but this was not the case today. "B-better. I've got spark." It could have been a bad pun - but she proved it was literally meant by pointing at the pile of twigs and branches. A lick of flame flared up from her fingertip and leaped onto the pyre. A tendril of smoke started up, small at first but followed by flickering tongues of flame that grew as the wood caught on fire. Reaching into the flame with eager hands, she was grateful; perhaps she could have thawed herself out by way of magic, but this took far less effort to maintain.
"Gods, that feels good. Thank you, you're a lifesaver." Could she crawl into the embers entirely? No, her dress would burn. And while the thought of stripping out of it did flit past, she refrained; it was quite enough to have been tucked up close against the soldier's body for so long. No need to make this any more awkward.
Maea lit the pyre with minimal effort, bringing a wan smile to Liam’s face. He was starting to think that Ancients had it all figured out - except for the whole freezing into stone thing, of course. The soldier sat next to Maea as she stuck her hands into the flames, close enough that he could help warm her if requested, but not quite close enough to be touching yet. He let out a humorless laugh. ”Hardly,” he replied drily. ”You wouldn’t have been in there at all if not for me.”
Perhaps Liam should have felt awkward, given how everything had turned out, but the only emotion he could manage to summon was exhaustion. The fire crackled in front of them, throwing off enough heat that it was slightly uncomfortable for the soldier, but he didn’t complain. Not after everything Maea had done for him that day. ”Thank you,” he said finally. ”For - for listening.” For staying. For everything.
Throwing him a lopsided grin, Maea hummed as she shook her head, denying him any responsibility for how this turned out. "Nor would you have been, if not for me. Honestly, I made my own bed here." Made it, laid on it, found that it may have been a questionable decision - but look at her now. Already the stone was flaking off her fingers, crackling like dried slip off a potters hands. Once one hand was sufficiently thawed out she brought it out and rubbed surreptitiously on the sticky streaks on her face; trying to wipe the blood away, not knowing she just made a worse mess of it. Feeling self-conscious about it, she was grateful he didn't seem to mind - or at least, he wasn't saying anything about the state of her.
Nor did he say much of anything, really. Not until the silence was broken with gratitude. Glancing over at him, her gaze softened; leaning ever so slightly aside, she nudged her arm against his. Words might not come easy, but surprisingly enough the physical contact did. Unusual, for one who was usually hyper alert and incredibly private when it came to such things.
"Thank you, for trusting me," she replied simply. "And... sorry, for pushing you into the river. I.. uh, didn't know what else to do."
Liam watched the stone flaking off of Maea’s hands with a profound sense of relief. He hated that he’d been the reason for her suffering; if she’d frozen into stone, and he’d been the reason for it? There wasn’t enough liquor in the world to drown that kind of guilt.
He reached up to run a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. Now that he knew Maea was alright, he had time to become self-conscious. Glancing at her blood-streaked face, he swallowed back yet another apology. She truly didn’t seem to mind his weakness, and continuing to bring it up would only end poorly, he was sure.
When she apologized, he cracked a smile, gazing at her fondly. ”No, don’t apologize,” he requested. ”It worked. I… I don’t do this often. It’s just…” He blew out a breath, looked up at the sky, reached to rub the back of his neck again. ”Last night was a bad night,” he said finally. Understatement of the year.
It was unusual to see him like this. Awkward, sure, a bit flustered, yes, but never this... embarrassed. Maybe she shouldn't find it as endearing as she did, given how bad it must feel for him, but the sentiment was there all the same. "You have nothing to be ashamed of," she told him, soft yet firm as she sought his errant gaze. "So what if you drink sometimes? I've spent enough time around bars to get it's not a problem you need to fix." If he'd been a true alcoholic she would likely have noticed by now. After Sunjata, she knew the signs; there had been enough of them in Halo when she lived there, and she had the Dusklight with its abundance of liquor and bad habits in fresh memory. "Honestly, given what you told me just now, I'm surprised you're as well adjusted as you are."
Letting her gaze fall to her hands, she rubbed a flake of blood off her fingers. "It's not a problem. If I reacted a bit strongly... it's not about that at all. I thought... I thought you were leaving because... because of what I was doing." It was a hard thing to admit. His trust in her, the courage it must have taken to share his plight - it deserved being honored in kind. She had been pushy, and butting in, and it was just as much because of her own fears as it was out of concern for him.
He wasn’t sure how she could say that he had nothing to be ashamed of; he had everything to be ashamed of. He’d failed to protect those most precious to him, and when the guilt had eaten him alive, he’d run from it, sequestering himself away int he Greatwood for years while the world had fallen apart around him. That wasn’t ‘well-adjusted’ - it was bitter failure, and when he thought about it too much, he hated himself for it.
But he was also working to try and fix it, and it was that which he clung to when things spiraled out of control.
Liam grimaced, scrubbing at his face with a hand. ”I used to be worse,” he admitted. ”After they first died.” Back when he was still in Stormbreak. ”Just - if it ever becomes a problem… tell me.” If it ever got in the way of their plans - or, more importantly, their friendship - he had to know that she would help him outrun his demons. And the thing was… he rather thought she would.
Her own admission had him staring at her, blinking stupidly. ”What, because you were hunting?” he wanted to know, ignoring the blood smeared across her face in favor of her pale eyes. ”Maea, why would that bother me? If anything, it’s impressive.” He nudged his elbow against her arm companionably. ”It would take more than that to run me off. I just… didn’t want you to see me like that.”
"Alright. If that's something you want, I will." That was easy enough to promise, especially if it gave him some peace of mind. They all had different ways of coping with grief, though. If his was trying to forget for a while, then hers was to throw herself into the kind of danger that left bruises and a trail of blood in her wake. Equally harmful in their own ways, they were both attempting to step away from that - and she was not going to throw out all the good things he had done and was doing just because of a setback. It was an honor to be relied on as a kill-switch; it was something she had been craving herself, yet always failed to find.
"Well - because," she breathed in a sharp exhale, as the attention was turned upon her own worries, "it's... unsightly. Ugly. Strange. Even Attuned don't need to do it, but if I don't kill something regularly I'll... loose my mind. Literally." His nudge registered like fireworks against her arm, contradicting the repulsion she was sure he must have felt. Impressive? What part of taking out her dark impulses on another living creature was impressive? Even if she could agree that it wasn't strictly speaking unnatural, it was a far cry from peaceable or serene or the kind of innocent she wished she could be. Liam didn't want to be seen in his weakness - and Maea didn't want to be perceived in the throws of her predatory, dark urges.
Yet here they were, anyway. And she leaned into the warmth of his touch, the proof of truth to his words that he wasn't bothered despite her worries - terribly afraid of what it would mean if he had been. If he'd really been leaving, like she had thought.
Liam tilted his head, considering. ”I guess… I just saw it as hunting,” he said, hazel eyes trained on Maea. ”I hunt. Plenty of others do, too. Not just Ancients.” And while he hadn’t known the tidbit about her losing her mind without killing, it hardly seemed to matter to him. Regardless of whether she was killing for that or for food, it was something she needed to do - not unlike the rest of the world needed to eat or sleep. ”I don’t… it doesn’t matter why, to me.”
There was no disgust on his face, only an open, eager kind of honesty. ”If it bothers you that you have to do it, then I’m truly sorry, and I would do anything to take that burden from you. But if it’s me you’re worried about, don’t. Like I said, it would take far more than that for me to leave.”
Noting that the Ancient seemed to have stopped shivering, and her fingers seemed to have stopped flaking off stone, he added, ”Is the fire working? Do you need anything else?” Because he would fetch whatever she required, no questions asked. Even if the only thing he had to offer at the moment was body heat (a thought that made him blush).
Scrubbing at her face, the drying blood flaked off more and more, gradually restoring the pallor of her skin. "Sometimes it does. Sometimes I almost forget what it's like to not feel the urge," she murmured. "Don't know what's worse... But if you're really not weirded out by it, then that's a relief." Maea wondered if he would still feel that way if he caught her chewing away on some half-eaten carcass in this form. It didn't happen often, but on occasion she couldn't be bothered to shift. Sometimes it felt more effective to sate the bloodlust with her own hands and teeth. Perhaps one day they would find out, but for now it was enough that he wasn't running screaming at the sight of her.
Shifting around so that she sat with her back to the fire, Maea bobbed her head at the question. "It's working, I'm feeling much better already." As for whether she needed anything... her gaze lingered on Liam for a moment, only to dart away at the sight of his flushed cheeks. Her own began to redden in response, just from wondering what might have brought on that look. "Nothing that comes to mind... unless you want to help me bring back the stag?" It was barely touched by her teeth, beyond the innards that would have been discarded anyway. All that meat should not be allowed to go to waste.
It was so easy, fleeing to practical matters to avoid thinking too deeply about what was going on between the two of them. Thalassa's teasing about 'reading cues' came to mind a bit too often for comfort. Biting back a scoff at the idea there was anything to read into, she brought her tail over into the flames, all but sagging in the wonderful feeling it brought to thaw it out properly.
In all honesty, if Liam caught her gnawing on a raw carcass while in her Ancient form, it might give him pause, but it wouldn’t send him running for the hills. He meant what he said: it would take a monumental betrayal for him to leave Maea now that she’d instilled herself so thoroughly in his life. Liam was nothing if not loyal, and Maea had earned his loyalty and then some, simply by being present, being kind, and listening.
And, as it turned out, for shoving him into the river.
”Good,” he said, looking away. ”I’m glad. When you’re ready, I’m happy to help with the stag.” But he was in no hurry to move from their spot by the fire, or from their friendly conversation. He was content to let Maea take the lead where the elk was concerned. It was, after all, her meal.
Pleased with his reply, she hummed a quiet 'thank you' and settled into a quiet that lasted for several minutes. Occasionally an errant gust of wind came sweeping down from the blue sky above their heads to bend the flames of their fire. It pulled at her unbound hair, whipping it in erratic patterns around the face. When the silken strands caught on the horns she absently pulled them away, navigating around the arched protrusions with a surety that hadn't always been there.
"Is there anything you need?" came a quiet musing, after a while. Having pulled her knees up so she could lean her cheek against one of them, Maea played with the hem of her dress, folding and unfolding the drying cloth between her slender fingers. "If there's anything I can do...?" Besides dunking him in the river Maea wasn't sure what to offer, but was open to suggestions. She couldn't chase away his nightmares, nor would she be able to stay with him every waking hour of the day - that kind of thing wasn't good for anyone, no matter how well they got along - but perhaps there were other things that might put him at ease, so that this harrowing self-harming pattern wouldn't be so tempting to repeat.
The breeze was a pleasant addition to the day, tugging at Liam’s blonde curls and playing with tendrils of flame from the fire. It carried with it the promise of warmth and birdsong, and with his clothes nearly dry from their time in the sun and by the fire, it felt surprisingly nice playing along his skin. Maea’s hair whipped around her face, and when a strand got caught on the horn closest to him, he had the oddest desire to reach out and tuck it away.
Whether it was from cowardice or a wish not to push in where he might not be wanted, Liam kept his hands to himself. But there was, perhaps, a whispering voice in the back of his mind that if he was starting to want to reach for her… well, he might be in trouble.
Then she asked if there was anything he needed, and his mind immediately went blank. ”Me?” he repeated dumbly. ”I, uh - no, I don’t think so, but thank you.” It was a kind offer, though, and one he appreciated even if he couldn’t accept. In truth, he didn’t know what he needed, and he could hardly expect Maea to figure it out if that was the case. ”Just… being here is enough.”
No? "Hm... alright." Then there was nothing more to do than to watch the fire burn, and listen to the river and the chirrup of birds in the trees. A woodpecker knocked somewhere out of sight. Over a patch of wildflowers the first bees of the season danced from petal to petal, pollinating as they went about the collection of nectar. For lack of anything else to occupy herself with, Maea pulled on the threads of her magical gifts and drew a tongue of fire from the pyre to play with. Looping it around her hands, she split it into orbs and then split them again until the air was filled with hazy sparks.
"If you could have anything at all in this world," she mused, "at no cost and with no catches... what would you want?" Twirling a finger in the air, her sparks coalesced into fiery will-o-wisps, that turned into a flight of dragons. None larger than the palm of a hand, she set them on a course around Liam's head, like he was a mountain for them to guard.
Liam was quiet for a long while. What did he want? What did he want? The obvious answer seemed like that he’d want his family back, and perhaps he did - but he also knew that this was a cruel world, and that he was no longer the same man that he had been. If they were to come back, would they be happy? Would they be safe? He could guarantee neither, and so the answer died in his throat.
Perhaps he would get rid of the Family, bring peace back to Caido. But that wasn’t what he wanted so much as what he thought the world needed.
Maybe he didn’t know what he really wanted. Maybe that was why he’d felt so stuck until recently, when he’d only just started to see a light at the end of a very long tunnel. Maybe up until now, he hadn’t let himself want, terrified that it would only be taken away. That was the thing about having tasted the life that he’d always wanted: he’d had it all, only to have it ripped tragically from his grasp. Now he didn’t trust anything or anyone to stay.
”I don’t know,” he said finally, knowing that he’d paused for too long. ”Id want to know that my family is content in Mort’s halls, but…” He leaned back on his hands and sighed. ”I think… for so long I’ve just been existing. I haven’t really wanted anything other than to survive one day to the next. What I want… maybe that’s something I need to figure out.”
