What do you get when two ruthless assassins raise their daughter travelling through the wildest reaches of Caido? Take one look at Theea and you'll get a pretty good idea. Cheerful and tenacious in equal measure, and curious beyond all else, she began her journey on a mission to find those her mother once called family. And find them she did, soon rubbing elbows with demigods, leaders and even ghosts from the past. Her determination is resolute, her thirst for knowledge unmatched. We can't wait to see where her next adventure takes her!
Congratulations, Theea!
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!
Zavien has a million reasons to be grateful, a million reasons to celebrate, a million reasons to be out in the city that he loved, but he can add 'finishing his quest' and 'access to the Celestine's shrine' to the long list as he makes his way through the trees with Sol trotting excitedly beside him. There's a lightness in his steps, a hope in his eyes, a smile plastered permanently on his lips. He knows there's so much work - too much work - still to be done to get Stormbreak back up and running, to help it succeed and ensure that the people feel safe, but they're back and none of the backbreaking or mind-bending work is able to crush the joy he feels.
It makes his offering a little more understandable, the abundance of various Stormbreak foods and wares falling from his arms just as he steps up to the shrine. There are a few Safrin-specific items - a shimmering glass cup made from broken windows, a platter of star shaped cookies, a blue-purple candle - but they're overall a boasting of everything that he'd missed over the past few months, a show of pride for his home as much as his appreciation for Safrin's faith in their success.
He arranges them as best he can, popping the cork on a bottle of champagne to pour it into a few glasses. Taking one for himself, he sets another on the shrine and a short one on the ground next to him for Sol. Zavien kneels in his usual fashion but raises his glass in toast as he calls out, his leather cuff offered in presentation on his wrist. "Safrin, we're home and my quest is complete. I hope you have a moment to celebrate with us."
Type: Grey | Style: Other | Level: Basic
Starlight Cuff | A leather cuff intertwined with threads of starlight that when activated, extend the movement of the user's hand to 5ft total. Includes effects from items/weapons.
1. Complete 2 training threads, one where he uses his cuff, and one where someone else uses it against him [Training] do it right next time - with cuff [Training] measuring the distance between - against cuff
2. Experience something with more gravity than it seems it should have *interpretation up to you [SE] heavy boxes and heavy hearts - boxes were heavier than expected/what should have been a light conversation with a friend was filled with concern
3. Experience something with less gravity than it seems it should have *interpretation up to you [SE] responsibility is an illusion we place on ourselves - illusions didn't have any gravity/less stress talking about ways to
Also, if it's okay, I'd like to use Zavien's CotY reward to have Safrin give him his LT: 'the Risen Sun' >.>
There’s a shimmer in the air, a sweet sharpness like lightning caught in perfume, and then she is there—risen from moonlight and stardust, her presence both radiant and impossibly soft. Safrin takes in the spread with a smile already blooming across her face, the delight in her eyes unmistakable as she gazes at the feast of Stormbreak’s spirit laid out like a hymn in offerings. "Oh, Zavien," she murmurs, voice warm as dusk and velvet. "It's so good to see you here."
She reaches for the glass waiting patiently on the shrine, her fingers delicate against the crystal stem. As he kneels before her, leather cuff presented in silent triumph, she places her free hand gently against his cheek, thumb brushing lightly just beneath his eye. "Nothing," she breathes, "would make me happier." Her glass lifts, clinking sweetly against his. Then she sips, her smile curling like a secret against the rim before she lowers it again.
Instead of rising in grandeur or beckoning him to stand, she settles beside him—knees to the earth, gown of stars folding around her like nightfall made tender. Her gaze turns, bright and curious. "So," she says, tilting her head toward him, "tell me, Zavien. How does it feel... to be home again?"
In her usual brilliant splendor, Safrin arrives and Zavien dips his head low in reverent greeting, "And you." The immediate approval and familiarity bring a warmth to his chest - and perhaps his cheeks when her hand reaches forward to brush softly along his skin, a touch he never thought he'd come to recognize. He can't stop smiling, her appearance only adding to his overall mood like sunlight on fire. The clink of glasses is like stars twinkling into existence in the darkest of night skies, like chiming laughter that heralds the arrival of a new beginning, like the Temple bells of Stormbreak ringing in victory; and when the sip of champagne hits his lips, Zavien swears it's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted.
Lowering his glass, he feels content with having shared the moment with her (and Sol who's loudly smacking his tongue against the fizzy liquid). Zavien assumes she'll flutter away in another flash of light to do something important, but Safrin surprises him by kneeling, inexplicably deigning to lower herself beside him like she's not some celestial goddess that lives in the stars. He can't help the way his eyes widen and his spine straightens, worried he might dirty her dress or bump her, that he'd miss something or embarrass himself. It's terrifying to have her attention on him so intently, asking about his feelings, but he's too happy to be scared, his laughter trying to compete with the brightness of the sunlight. "I don't think I've ever been happier. My heart feels like it might float away." Maybe it would take residence in the sky like a miniature Stormbreak.
Unable to stop himself from rambling on, Zavien adjusts to sit back on his heels. "We still have so much work to do, but with the Family gone, we can rebuild freely, and I'm so excited to see the city reach its full potential - for the people to be happy and safe." The last part rings a little heavier, his smile still present but set with a quiet determination as he adds, "I hope they never have to feel unsafe again."
Her laughter drapes around him like warm silk, quiet and knowing, spun from stardust and secrets. "Then let it float,”" Safrin murmurs, eyes gleaming like galaxies caught mid-twirl. "Let it rise until even the stars look up and wonder who dared be that joyful."
She sees the stiffening of his spine, the careful way he holds himself beside her. She sees it, and she chooses not to correct it—only to soften it. With the casual intimacy of someone who’s watched him grow into himself, she nudges her shoulder gently against his. A playful little touch, light as moonlight and just as inevitable. "You’re allowed to sit beside me, Zavien."
Her gaze turns back to the glinting curve of the city on the horizon, where pinpricks of golden light have begun to flicker in windows and towers. "You’ve done well," she says, and there's no divine echo to it. J"And I agree. They deserve to feel safe. To be proud of where they live. To belong."
Considering for a moment, she turns, one brow arching as she studies his expression anew. "Have you ever considered leading them?" she asks, voice low but pointed, curiosity wrapped in the shape of a challenge. "Helping Stormbreak reach its full potential not just with your hands, but with your vision? Your heart?" A pause, her smile a crescent moon.
Warmed by the velvet caress of her encouragment, his smile strengthens unimagineably more, feeling like she understands exactly what he means. Safrin always seems to know and notice those things, offering sweet words and gentle touches that ease his tension. Even now, her comment shows that she'd seen his discomfort, the playful brush of her shoulder reminding him again of how human she sometimes acts and tempting him to relax. Zavien doesn't fully give in, still more than aware that she isn't, but he obediently releases the tightening of his spine and blushes through a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I guess I'm just a little flustered sitting next to a goddess."
Taking another sip of champagne to prove that he's at least trying to act natural, he follows her gaze out to the city. Pride wells, so bright and dense that it shines through his eyes. Again, she just gets it and he's nodding along with every word until she's looking at him with such sincerity and expectation that he nearly chokes.
"Me?" He doesn't want to insult the goddess, but he can't help the disbelieving laugh as he shakes his head. "Oh definitely not. I'm not good at anything but fighting, and even then, I don't rank anywhere near the top." Self awareness is perhaps one of his few strengths - which is unfortunate for his confidence.
Running a hand through his hair, he shrugs his shoulders and grants Safrin a smile that's quiet with acceptance. "There are a lot more qualified leaders. Soh's doing a great job anyways." That's what he's supposed to say, to support her through the process and not lose faith in her ability to do the job, even if he worries about the burden they place on her frail shoulders. Until she says otherwise, Zavien won't be the person to question her.
She watches him with a gaze touched not by judgement, but by quiet amusement, letting his nervous laughter spill into the night without interruption. He protests so sweetly, so earnestly, that the stars themselves might have wept with adoration if they’d been listening. Safrin only smiles, cradling her champagne between her fingers like it weighs no more than light.
"I don't dislike Sohalia,"” she says at last, voice velvet-smooth with unbothered truth. "She came to me to disable the abandoned defenses in Stormbreak, but..." A pause, and her lashes lower, silver-tipped and thoughtful before her gaze sharpens slightly, not cruelly, but with the precision of a blade honed over eons. "You never faltered. Not when your home was lost, not when others forgot where their loyalties lay. You stood here, always. Proud of your city, and you never shied away from asking for help when you needed it." Her smile softens again, the corner of her mouth lifting like a tide that only ever kisses the shore. "That is rarer than you know."
The stars shimmer above them, one blinking slightly brighter than the rest.
"Those best suited for leadership," she continues, brushing a whorl of hair from his temple with a gentle flick of her fingers, "are often the ones who do not seek it. They carry no hunger for power, only the weight of responsibility. Ego never clouds their judgement, because it was never part of their motive to begin with." Then, her hand lowers, hovering just above the cuff at his wrist. "And you don’t walk alone. You have me. You have Sol—Vi’s approval, not just mine." Her expression grows brighter, almost teasing.
She lets the words linger, not pushing, not demanding. Simply laying them there in the moonlight like another offering—this time, one for him to consider.
Then, after a breath, her voice dips into something quieter. "Sohalia was the Luminary," she muses, not unkindly. "A light that shone when the skies were dark, yes—but even the brightest stars fade with dawn." Safrin turns to him again, something gleaming and proud in her gaze now. "But you...you are not starlight. You are the sun rising over storm-battered towers. The warmth that coaxes gardens to bloom in broken places. The promise of a new day for the city that you love." Her smile deepens, soft and radiant. "The Risen Sun. That’s what I will call you now." And with that, it is no longer a suggestion, but a truth etched into the stars.
Zavien's captivated by her every word, wrestling with the disbelief in his own capabilities and her contrasting perception of him. It certainly feels like he'd faltered. He'd died, he hadn't been able to come home for weeks, and he'd done little to stop the destruction of the city. Yet she was right in that his faith and determination had rarely wavered. Despite every obstacle or lack of ability, he'd attempted to find new avenues to assist in the cause, to free the city from tyranny and make it safe again.
Whether that makes him a good leader is another question, and he prepares to say as much before she's shifting his hair in a way that's very distracting. He holds his breath so he can listen to the message he's certain has to be important. The sentiments are ones he's heard before, but never something he's thought to apply to himself; yet the way she bolsters him and reminds him of Vi's approval and looks at him like she already knows that he'll succeed... It turns the idea into less of an impossibility and more of an inevitability.
He doesn't move, watching and listening like she holds him hostage with the hovering of her hand. By the end, Zavien is shifting slightly on his heels, a bright blush now spreading to his ears from the embarrassed smile on his face. The Risen Sun. It feels like a crown of light being placed on his head, weighted with the knowledge of expectation yet so natural, like the brightness of his hopes for Stormbreak taking shape. It changes nothing and yet it changes everything.
His head dips so low that it nearly touches his chest, lifting a hand to place it over his heart that's full of sunshine. "Thank you, Safrin. I can't express how much you honor me." Feeling like the spell has been broken, he pauses to really consider what it is she's suggesting. The idea of leadership takes a sharper form in his mind but he still hesitates, meeting Safrin's starlit eyes with as much respect as he can deliver, a polite smile on his lips. "I... don't want to undermine Soh." He couldn't imagine how cruel it would be to rip the leadership from her hands after all the time and effort she'd put into regaining it, but he also couldn't ignore how much work there was still to be done and how much he wanted to be part of every aspect. Did she?
Uncertain that Soh has such motivations, he nods his head, the idea planted and taking root as he says, "But I'll talk with her."
Safrin nods, the motion slow and graceful, like a star blooming in the hush between constellations. Her hand lifts again, but this time it doesn’t just flick through his hair or linger in suggestion. Instead, she wraps her arm around his shoulders, drawing him in—not forcefully, not possessively, but with a familiarity born of trust. "Your heart," she murmurs, her head tilting so the light brushes softly across her cheek, "is one of your finest traits, Zavien. But even the brightest hearts can cast long shadows if they’re always bending toward someone else’s sorrow."
Her fingers curl gently against the fabric at his shoulder, and the warmth of her embrace settles like sunlight breaking through cloud.
"As a dragoon, you were taught to act for the sake of the whole," she says, her voice low but steady, the kind of tone that sinks deep, meant to be remembered. "And if you are to lead, that doesn’t change. The feelings of one person can’t weigh more than the safety of the squad. Or a city."
Her eyes flick to the skyline again, where Stormbreak glimmers dimly through the haze of distance and memory. "How many weeks has it been since Dahlia left?" she asks softly, the question more a thought spoken aloud. "If Sohalia still believes herself to be the Heart of Stormbreak, then where has she been?" There is no venom in the question, no scorn. Only truth, as ancient and patient as the stars.
She leans in a touch closer, her voice almost a secret between them. "I know it doesn’t come easily. That kindness tugs you back when certainty tells you to move forward, but you mustn’t let one girl’s feelings stand above the safety and security of an entire region." A gentle squeeze punctuates the words, not scolding but grounding. Not asking him to be cruel—just clear-eyed.
Then, her arm lingers for a breath longer, before easing back, giving him space again. "Talk with her," Safrin agrees with a knowing smile. "But remember what you’ve built. And who you’ve become." With that, starlight gathers at her heels, rising in soft spirals that catch the edge of her gown and dissolve into the air. She gives Zavien one last, radiant look—equal parts pride and promise—before she vanishes into the night, leaving only the faintest shimmer behind.
