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!
Just in time for her. Ronin smiled warmly at that, nodding in agreement and stepping up to accept the gloves and help with the cakes. He watched Amalia for a moment or so, as if to see how she did it, before joining in. He was albeit a bit slower, but they would get there in the end. "Hm? The Spire? I've never been inside," he confessed. He had died before it opened, and hadn't been in there since.
"A what?" he asked fo the creature (he guessed) that she mentioned, Ronin arching an eyebrow before slowly coming around to the idea. "Whatever it is, if Safrin has asked it of you then of course I'd be honoured to join you. When are you thinking of making the trip?"
"A tulmhainar," Amalia repeats, chewing thoughtfully at her lip as she tries to find words to describe the creature. "It's like a... a giant tortoise with a world on its back, I suppose. There's one in the Fae woods, and I... I think I saw one in the Spire. But Roana might have killed it." She swallows her bitterness but cannot keep it from her voice, dislike of the woman evident in her face. "They live on memories. The one I met was ancient and beautiful." Wistfully she looks away, her gaze on the honey cakes, a distant half-smile on her lips.
Raising her gaze back to Ronin, Amalia smiles in earnest, grateful for his agreement to help in her task. "Soon," she answers resolutely, nodding her head. "After the festival, I think. I need to gather some more people. And talk to Delah, the leader of the fae."
Amalia & Jyoti
born from dark water, daughters of the rain and snow
Arching an eyebrow, Ronin couldn't hide his interest in the giant tortoise-like creature that Amalia described. A world on its back...? Living on memories? Well, if he hadn't been interested to go into the Spire and look for such a creature before, he definitely was now. "It sounds like something otherworldly," he remarked, smiling across at the baker and stepping back once the cakes were all turned out, the room filled with the sweet scent of them.
He had heard, vaguely, of this Delah person, but as of yet Ronin had little to do with the Greatwood other than the occasional exploration. "Ah, because of the tulmhainar in the woods?" he guessed, smirking at the treats they'd made. "If you start handing these out, you'll probably have people queuing up to go with you!"
"It was," she answers dreamily, her voice distant as she recalls. "It said that Mort made the place for it to live, and that there weren't many left. I think... if there's one in the Spire, it might be the reason the Glade is always green." She shrugs thoughtfully, conjecture all she has. "Safrin said the old gods cannot see inside the Spire, even now. So she doesn't know if there is one, or if it would still be alive. But if there is..." Her face and voice are expressive enough, determination set in the line of her jaw. If the Voice has imprisoned a creature within, it is their job to save it, even if only to give it the burial and send off it deserves.
"The tulmhainar, and the blight." Worrying her lip, Amalia frowns. "I... I feel awful, that our freedom might have come at the cost of the forest's health. I was so excited, when the barrier fell, to see what was outside of it. But... but the fae have a whole world that we don't understand, and will probably just ruin, thanks to the new gods." Sighing deeply, she shakes her head, anger and guilt ripe in her voice. At least his comment about her cakes gets her to smirk, though the heaviness still hangs in her shoulders, her eyes. "I'd like to hope people like me for more than just my cakes," she admits ruefully, a crooked line upon her lips, her tone making it obvious that she doubts this is the case.
Amalia & Jyoti
born from dark water, daughters of the rain and snow
The story of the tulmhainar and the place where it lived was like something out of a dream, Ronin listening quietly to Amalia as she explained. His blue eyes widened a fraction at her suggestion about the Glade, and whilst it might only be conjecture, he still nodded gently in agreement. "Well," he said. "Let's explore it together and find some answers for you and for the Old Gods, okay?" His smile grew warm, Ronin absently taking off his gloves. He wasn't strong enough yet, he thought, to approach Safrin again. But soon.
Talk of the blight had his full attention, the hunter worrying his lower lip between his teeth and shrugging. "If the barrier is the cause of the blight... as long as our walking through the forest doesn't make it any worse by itself... I'd say we have a responsibility to help." His brow furrowed. "I was determined to see the barrier fall - even if I died before it happened. The power of hindsight is a wonderful thing."
Unfortunately, what was done was done. Happy to change the subject to something he could more readily advise on, he tipped Amalia a wink. "Why wouldn't they?" he asked. "I doubt that your cakes would taste half as good if you weren't as sweet as they were. You're a good person, Amalia. I certainly like you for more than just honey cakes."
She nods her agreement with his statement, her fingers playing absently on the edge of the cooling rack. "Phoebe is going to speak to Frey, and see if they know anything. Maybe you could ask Safrin?" That the Old Gods love these Outlanders more than her is another point of bitterness for the girl, stinging to admit, but this time she does her best to hide the bile and pain. It does not matter if she is inadequate: at the end of the day they have a purpose, and unity in that goal. She is sympathetic to his plight, somewhat soothed by the near-confession of guilt, her head shaking immediately in reassurance despite her unspoken agreement with his words. "You couldn't have known-" except he could, did, but in the end what does it matter? What's done is done. "It is good you put the demon out of its misery, though. It wasn't always such a monster."
More cruelties by the New Gods. More sins of The Voice.
His declaration makes her laugh, surprise coloring her cheeks as she fixes him with a bemused stare. "I.. ah... thank you?" she replies awkwardly, unaccustomed to praise, unsure what to do with it. Of course the doubt is there; she wants to shake her head in disagreement, to comment that you just don't know me very well. Uncomfortable, she fidgets, her fingers running over each other, anxious but also pleased. "You're not so bad yourself." It is wry, humor in times of discomfort, but also sincere, an offered truce.
Amalia & Jyoti
born from dark water, daughters of the rain and snow
"I could," Ronin said slowly, softly. "But I think it might be better coming from you, given how much you already know about this. You've been to the Sidhe Village - you've met Delah." He tried a smile for her - Ronin had, after all, done quite enough meddling in the Hollowed Grounds for a lifetime. (Two lifetimes, if you took into account that he was back from the dead). No, he had his own work to do; namely, getting himself to a standard where he could approach Safrin with his head held high.
His smile faded at the mention of the Spire Demon, Ronin nodding softly. "So I've heard. This place... all of it, I... well. It makes you wonder how long it might take until the rest of Caido catches wind of this." If they hadn't already. Because Ronin was hardly delusional enough to believe that the whole world was just the Hollowed Grounds and the Greatwood.
Her awkwardness is endearing, Ronin finding himself grinning without intending to. "Oh? Why, thank you," he quipped in return, glancing over the cakes they had made and smirking to Amalia. "So - should I take some of these home and report back to see whether they were a success? I've no doubt they will be."
Amalia isn't sure if she should feel reassured or uneasy by his refusal, so instead she bows her head, letting golden hair fall over her shoulder and hide some of the rose which dusts her cheeks. "Delah did say they already asked," she mentions, her fingers fidgeting on the counter. "But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try again." She wants to do something, but cannot say what. There must be a solution. If only she were smart enough to know where to look.
"Take all of them," Amalia replies quickly, her smile blooming once again. "And let me know what the reception is." Reaching beneath the counter, she procures a large sheet of brown paper in which to wrap the cakes. They are cool enough that they won't get soggy, or so the girl hopes as she begins to stack them, carefully arranging them so they do not break. "Perhaps next time you can all come, and stay for dinner? Or I could come to the guild..."
She trails off, realizing she has just invited herself into their home, their lives, and laughs uncomfortably, dropping her eyes. They are not friends - are they friends? - and this is a business transaction, and besides, why would they want her there, when they are a family and she is alone, her own family having crumbled at the seams long, long ago.
Amalia & Jyoti
born from dark water, daughters of the rain and snow
"It never hurts to try again. That is one thing I can tell you with certainty," Ronin said with a warm smile, nodding to her and arching an eyebrow at hearing that he ought to take all of the cakes. There were so many - but with that being said, he still had no doubt that he would find a way to polish them all off. And so, once Amalia had stacked and wrapped them, he lifted them carefully from the counter so he could cart them all off home.
His blue eyes lit up at the prospect of meeting again, Ronin flashing Amalia a crooked grin and nodding. "You were kind enough to host me today, so please - any time you like, come to the guildhall and we'll make dinner together," he said. "My doors are always open. Don't be shy, okay?"
Sugar was already trying to nose at the paper, so Ronin took the hint and, chuckling to the little dragon, began to head for the door. "Thank you for everything, Amalia. It was good to talk to you."
Ronin has more mouths to feed, and besides, Amalia always has more leftovers than she could possibly need. There is no part of her which questions giving him all the cakes: it is the Chandrakant way to give and give, and Amalia cannot go against her breeding. Wrapping the remaining loaves, the baker presents them to Ronin proudly, always happy to have done a day's work. "You'll have to tell me how Aoife likes them. And how they taste in general."
Remarkably, Ronin accepts the offer, extending a promise of future meetings. A bashful laugh rolls off her tongue, but her dark eyes glitter with shy delight as she nods, color rising to her cheeks. "Okay." Shyness is in her nature, anxiety the color of her blood, but she will certainly try. She is growing, branching, forming bonds.
She is beginning to feel less alone.
Jyoti calls a parting song as the pair turns to walk away, and Amalia echoes with her own farewell. "Vi guide your steps," she answers, a familiar phrase, waving a slender hand. Then, sighing, she turns around and returns to never completed work.
Amalia & Jyoti
born from dark water, daughters of the rain and snow
