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!
Per Jigano’s suggestion, and her prior failure, the girl hastened the next morning, bright and early, towards the Artisan’s Guild. Her movements were less chaotic, less savage, less inclined to wild properties, but ebullient, singsong without the right notes and decibels, a short tune rising from her mouth and springing lightly into the autumn air. A portion of her hoped and another part dreaded, so they seemed to cancel one another out on sprigs of movement and motion – Fangorn tucked in her arms as they gallivanted into uncharted, unknown waters. Her bag wasn’t so light today either, comprised of some things she thought Remi (or Aoife, for that matter) might like, including the remaining rocks from the bottom of the Crimson Cataract, some little puffs of feathers she’d found in the woods, and a variety of shells hastened from shore lines.
Her gilded gaze, however, was caught on the lines of the Guild before her. Not unlike the Monster Hunters, there was a hall – but then there were also rows upon rows of stalls, outreaches of tools, instruments, devices, and trappings, encouraging those to share their skills, their abilities, their talents with the rest of the world. Partially forgetting about her quest, she wandered down the kiosks, greeting those working, appreciating their wares, promising to come again soon, her luminescent smile still radiating down the length of the avenues. Lost after a turn, she doubled back another way, and finally managed to poke her head into the right area. “Remi?” She inquired, not wishing to bother, not yearning to pry, but still a vivid little thing garbed in curiosity and intrigue.
With his wedding preparation all but done, the alchemist was free to let his mind wander down more whimsical pathways. Not that preparation for his big day didn't fill him with an ecstatic sort of glee, only that it made focusing on everything else nearly impossible. Within moments Remi would lose himself in daydreams of moonlit trees, of Aoife backlit by starlight tossing (more than likely, eating, and then chucking petal-free flowers at people) her bouquet as she walked down the aisle, and of course Ronin, handsome as always.
One such daydream was where Remi's mind was as Melita entered, and so the girl would see the alchemist gazing off into space, his dreamy expression perhaps made all the more poignant by his shattered and pale stare.
"Mm?" He mumbled, blinking to clear his thoughts as he turned. Remi and Melita were not close enough that the honey-bee girl was brightly illuminated in his vision, but she wasn't a wraith of black either. Her hair was muted fire and her skin was like parchment, easily making her visible from the boring backdrop of the guild.
"Oh! Melita!" He chimed brightly, his smile instant and sunny once his mind was fully pulled away from thoughts of his wedding. "Hallo, how are you?"
The moon is shining but I can't see the light
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Her smile was bright and uplifting, a wrinkle to her nose in mischievous spirit as if she’d caught him daydreaming, staring into oblivion, even with the remnants of pale eyes across a dashing face. It wasn’t the first time that she wished she had her mother’s healing abilities, that she had listened more raptly to the details of herbs and their capabilities, that she had been talented in that regard instead of fighting and blistering her way through events. She supposed he’d tried everything already though, and perhaps, at some point, his sight, his vision, would find its way back – or not – and her expression softened, gaze arranging itself elsewhere, caught in her own crossfire of thoughts and machinations. “I’m good. How have you been?” she settled in, a breath of compassionate air, flickering further into his stall, eyes rummaging around at different artifacts, hands itching to touch things that she definitely shouldn’t; curiosity compelling, devising. “I hear a congratulations are in order,” she finally relished, her grin hastened back into the fold, hands reaching for his, giving them a kind shake, a tender touch. “I’m so happy for you!”
At least at some point during this season, there would be happiness and contentment, something to be excited for, something to hope and linger upon, something other than the cold, chilling sensation of foreboding nuances plaguing their paths.
She released him when he was ready, an opulent spirit in the sunny haze. “I did come here for something in particular though.” She arched her brow, hastened to be a little teasing. “I heard you might have some Wicker Woman sap.” The youth adjusted her hold on her satchel, bringing it forward, in front of her chest, Fangorn rumbling around at her ankles, poking at things along the ground. “If you’re willing, I have things to trade for it.”
Before he can properly answer, her hands are clasping his and the news he would have given in response is already upon her lips. Her beatific smile is met with one equally as sunny as he covered one of her hands in his. Even though the news is a few days old by now, Remi can't help the immediate geyser of happiness that explodes upwards from somewhere in his chest, bubbling in the back of his throat and making it hard to answer. "Yes." He manages after a moment once his ever-growing smile is more under control. "Thank you. I have...never been more happy." Remi adds, biting the inside of his lip and flushing with warm adoration.
Tilting his head to the side in a decidedly avian gesture and playing along by softly colouring his expression to look skeptical. Crossing his arms and looking properly surprised at her actual request, the alchemist blinked a few times wondering if this was a genuine request, or more playful pantomiming. "Sap? I.." Still confused, Remi ruffled a hand through his hair before turning away. His hands trailed along his desk for context in his mostly-dark world, as he made his way towards a bookshelf. Feeling along it, he found a book and brought it back. Opening it upon the table, the pages were cut out to make room for a jar indeed full of the sap the honey-bee had come for.
"Safrin helped me make an item to see through illusions. Apparently I brought back much more sap than was required." Remi divulged with a grin. "But whatever do you need it for? I have heard that it is quite...ahh..potent."
The moon is shining but I can't see the light
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
She was so glad to see him content, excited, without the clouds, without the shadows, without the rain bombarding him. There’d been days where she’d catch him from afar and wonder just what had happened again, especially to one who had always seemed so kind, so gentle, so sincere. Why did the tumultuous, mercurial fringes always seemed to land upon him? Her grin matched his, buoyant and effervescent, pieces and particles of the sun, born to the whimsies of grandeur of fire, yearning to place that same glow upon everyone else. “You deserve to be happy,” she added amidst their clasped hands, their adoration – there needed to be something to look forward to in these haunted gallows. “Let me know if you need any help with it!”
Then came the sap – and she watched him as he obviously strived to put the fragments together. Perhaps it wasn’t a normal request – she wasn’t sure, she was so ridiculously ignorant within the best of times – smile dimming only a little at his confusion, not intending to make the situation worse. Her eyes followed his movements as he pulled out a book (and maybe this was where he was going to tell her where to find some, he was all out, there wasn’t anything left, and she’d have to find some poor individual to follow her into disaster and ruin)…and plucked a jar out of the cut-apart portions of the tome. Her eyes widened, fascinated by the display (and utilizing it for future ideas).
His explanation was interesting too – that Safrin had implored him, assisted him, in crafting an item to see through hallucinations and delusions. Then came the inquiry she’d dreaded, mostly because she’d have to relate the fact she’d failed (again), because while it was a part of her daily routine, it still hurt somewhere in her chest (to be so stupid, so naïve). “Well, I asked Ludo to help me repair my staff.” She’d show him if she had it with her, but it was back home, even more cracked and chiseled away after her recent exploits with Kiada (the rage, the hostility, the vehemence). “They asked me to find some Wicker Woman sap.” She puffed a few stray hairs out of her eyes, then opted to tuck them behind her ear. “Which I attempted to do, but I went to the wrong area in the Greatwood. Delah found me and sent me back.” With some threats, but it could’ve been far worse, even after a decent chat between chieftess and honeybee girl; understanding the motivations of the warrior Fae more, but nowhere closer to what she required.
“I am honestly not sure what I deserve in this life anymore, but I am more than greatful to have it.” Remi said with a sincere blush. As always he was content and relaxed in the presence of woman. It was not so strong as it had once been, back in Northaven where his interactions with the fairer sex had been mostly for show (in public anyways). Even so, the company of those like Melita always put him at ease, the left over hang ups from home Northaven unable to infect them. “Well, I have heard that any number of things can go wrong on the day of a wedding ... but I would be more than happy simply to have you and Fanghorn in attendance.” He said with an easy grin.
“Ludo?” Remi repeated, his expression clouding somewhat with concern. He hadn’t the best interactions with the god thus far, and though he was working to improve upon that, there likely wouldn’t be a time when the god’s name didn’t chill his heart. “And...Ludo seemed...kinda? The sap and so on, that is all it requires of you?” Remi asked, knowing that he was perhaps overstepping but unable to help himself. He could likely repair Melita’s staff for her...or create her an entirely new one. He would of course, especially if it meant keeping her away from Ludo and its trickery.
The mention of Delah had the alchemist nodding understandingly. “Yes. I met her just once, but she...” He shook his head. “All that I have heard suggests she would be happy if she never saw any of us again.”
The moon is shining but I can't see the light
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Melita thought there were multitudes of people in this wonderful, but sometimes anguishing world that deserved far more than they’d received; time would tell, perhaps, but at least Remi had found light within the blight. “Nothing will go wrong,” she shook her head, as if the statement alone would do the trick, cease and stop and desist whatever counter-measures the universe concocted. For the most part, the little honeybee girl thought life wouldn’t dare presume to cross over Remi and Ronin’s wedding with anything other than luminescence, happiness, and bliss. “It’ll be perfect.” Her smile was a radiant thing again, bolstered and heightened by the potential for shining, rapturous things on the horizon. “We’d be happy to come!” Fangorn, near the corner of a shelf, sniffling around for hidden insects, chirped his own compliance and excitement, growled, hissed, and then returned to his own ventures.
The youth could see the concern shifting over Remi’s eyes – Ludo again, similar to Jigano’s consternation. Melita had yet to experience the sensation of apprehension with the god – though she’d only had one encounter, and it’d been pleasant. What would happen when she followed directions and returned? “Ludo seemed fine. Content with my gifts.” Which were…remarkably similar to the ones she brought for Remi. Then she nodded. “Mhm! Just the sap.” Was that suspicious too? Had she already done something wrong? Her brows furrowed slightly, retracing the steps from the shrine and into the Greatwood – if she’d forgotten anything (which would be typical; her impetuous, impulsive nature already not lending itself well to her task in prior layers).
They shifted the subject to Delah. Melita actually had a healthy respect for the chieftess, understanding, comprehending, the mistakes and errors they’d made along the way – all affecting her home, her people. Her voice became quieter, more contemplative. “She tolerated me for a while. But I would agree with you.”
While there weren't bugs in any great number for the small gourd to happen upon, small not-quite-robotic creations began to buzz as the sphereicalish creature knocked against one of the shelves. Wind-up toys were really all they were, but they jittered and danced towards Fanghorn with unpredictable and amusing movements.
"I am glad for that." The alchemist said, exhaling a breath he hadn't quite realized that he'd been holding. "You know...if you ever need anything repaired or made, even magical items, I would be more than happy to help you." He added with a hasty smile, feeling uncomfortable not with offering his assistance, but with sounding so cavalier about being able to offer the young girl something she had sought out a god for. "I was once on Ludo's good side, or so I believed. But it all changed quickly." Swallowing with an uncomfortable half-smile, Remi shrugged. "Just...know that Ludo is not your only option." He added after a moment, handing the jar of sap out for Melita.
"Mmm." Remi hummed in agreement. "Which I suppose is her choice to make." He conceded with a non-committal shrug.
The moon is shining but I can't see the light
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Fangorn’s alarm was clear the moment the toys became maneuvering toward him – curiosity be damned, the pumpkin gourd hissed several infernal, feral things that would’ve been curses coming out of a human’s mouth, bounding and launching for Melita’s ankles, then her arms, without preamble or shame. The youth couldn’t suppress a chuckle, even as the gourd shook and trembled, and her hands softly patted over his stem. “Oh dear,” she whispered, pressing her lips together but the smile never quite dissipating.
After rolling her eyes at her companion’s antics, her attention rendered back to the alchemist and his offers. Perhaps she should have gone to him first, been the one foremost in her mind for any repairs or damages; but he had enough things on his plate, blinded, scorned, scorched against for whatever reason, that tending to her small, meager needs and necessities seemed so little and small in comparison.
Probably for a God too.
Her heart hurt in ways she couldn’t fathom or describe, squeezing in pulses and tremors, but she gave a grateful grin. “I’ll remember that,” but hastened it into her soul to not leave him open to petty, trivial things; Ludo not being her only option- a flicker, a yearning, a grating feeling that some scorching days gathered amidst the Rift made her remember families were not just the ones contorted through blood, but the bonds immersed from trials and tribulations.
Then he laid the sap out for her, and before her hands could wrap around the massive jar, they fluttered to her bag, grabbing hold of the gifts she’d brought in return. “You can have these!” She handed him the tiny sack, still containing the stones she’d gathered at the bottom of the Cataract, some crimson like their namesake, others clustered in beatific colors, a scalding onyx, a brilliant ivory, laden and laden and laden with more. “If you can’t find a use for them, maybe Aoife could start a collection, or…” She wasn’t certain if they were even remotely utilized for anything other than ornamental affect – but she wasn’t going to just take and receive.
On a more reverential, quieter, note, her fingers glided along the jar. “Thank you Remi.”
"You know, that is how some of us feel when we see you all lumbering towards us." Remi said with an affectionate laugh, winking at Fangorn. "They are harmless though." He added with another sunny grin.
"You would be doing me a favour, really." Remi said in a conspiratorial tone, leaning in and glancing about as if their conversation was being monitored. "I would much rather build things for you than for Zariah." He said, scrunching his nose. "Or making sex toys." Remi added with a playful laugh that still somehow suggested he was serious.
Instead of reaching for the jar, Melita's hands went to the bag at her side. Tilting his head curiously towards his shoulder, he watched as she brought out a small sack. Gently shaking a few onto his palm, Remi gasped with a delighted smile. "These are lovely." He said, with no traces of condescension or a lack of genuineness to his tone. Melita might have brought him braided wheat for all he cared; the alchemist had never really received any thoughtful or appreciative gifts in his life before coming to the Hollowed Grounds.
With a grin, Remi shook his head. "I think she is still at the stage where this looks too much like candy. Then again...we did just make her a sword. This might jewel her hilt nicely." Remi flushed with adoration. "She wants to be a hero, like her father." He added with no shortage of love in his voice, for the pair of them.
"You are most welcome."
The moon is shining but I can't see the light
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Fangorn didn’t have the heart or conviction to argue or quarrel with Remi’s connotations, opting to grimace and turn, hiding his face in the fold of Melita’s arms while she cooed in his direction. The youth had opted out of hunting any gourds down this autumn, losing the predilection to skewer and maul and play with things related to her bonded; leaving them to their own gnarled, fanged devices.
She tilted her head at the alchemist’s conspiratorial tone, as if they were spies or deceitful beasts, ready to snag at snares and track their own lines in the sand. She smiled and winked at the intonations of working for Zariah – the girl had no love for the Queen either, but had merely watched as others spurned and churned, burning from the inside out at the open forum. “I don’t blame you. How did you get involved with her anyway?” Perhaps it was his magic that led her nose to him – another chance and grab at power, at items beyond her means? At the latter half though, she blinked, looking far more innocent than she ever had, a child proven on battlefields and shadows, but never in bedrooms. “Sex toys?” She murmured, quiet, the faintest blush on her cheeks.
But to her delight, the subject didn’t linger there long – Remi appeared content with her gifts, the stones like marbles in his hands, the honeybee youth satisfied to hear they’d have a purpose, little Aoife with her adorned blade, her future already in the horizon. “That sounds perfect.” All of it, from the emblems of her heroic father down to the roots and foundations simmering here and there, safe and emblazoned in either Remi or Ronin’s arms. What a pair to raise a child. Aoife would have everything she could ever want.
Her eyes wandered back to the jar, the sap contained inside, the only thing Ludo had required, you are most welcome coaxing through her ears; wondering if she deserved all these wonderful things.
Throwing up his hands in a mock gesture of helplessness, the alchemist shrugged. "I have been told I am a naive idiot, so it is probably that." He said with a laugh. Then, on a more serious note he added: "At first what she wanted did not seem so...bad? An ink that smelled like tea and spoke in her voice? But it snowballed from there. She burned me a handful of times, but it was only when she threatened Aoife and Ronin that I realized I had to put my foot down."
The mention of sex toys just had Remi wryly shaking his head as he grinned, running his fingers through his curls. Oh yes, the crown (one member in particular) was not above using his magic for their own advantages.
"Be careful with it. It is quite strong, so I am told. If there is extra left over, hold on to it. Perhaps you can help someone out this way in the future."
The moon is shining but I can't see the light
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
“I don’t think that about you at all,” she smiled, she grinned, but there was no mocking tone, no overture of deprecation. “You are wonderful, and always eager to help others, which is far more than we could ever hope for.” But she listened too – to the intonations of how it all started, how the wants and needs were little, small, minute in comparison to how they grew. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. And it burned against her, made her hands curl into fists, made her brows furrow in dismay. “I’m glad you did.” But at what cost? How far had she already driven him? Maddening woman; a tyrant, a dictator, not a monarch. She and Kisamoa could’ve traded tales.
But at the mention of the sap, they were back to advice, Remi always freely granting it to her, even when she was likely too foolish to do anything noteworthy with it. She listened anyway, a keen ear for wisdom even if she couldn’t follow through on its prerogatives. “I will. Thank you again.” Then, in an air of mischief as she roamed away, Fangorn on one arm and the sap in the other, her sprite conjectures not malicious, not menacing, but jovial, a cut in the angst. “Do you want me to show the staff when it’s repaired?”
Remi snorted appreciatively, offering Melita a sunny smile for her words. "I am too. Glad that I learned my lesson before I ever made her something truly dangerous, but I have definitely done much more than I should have." Running a hand through his curls, Remi considered not for the first time, ruining the jail. Or perhaps just making more keys for the locks he had made...
"Please!" The alchemist hummed immediately. He was curious of course simply to see the artifact that the honeybee had wanted a god to repair for her, but also to see what the levels of crafts-god-ship would look like. Would he be able to tell the difference? Would the magic of the wood feel any different to him? Could his senses—any of them—discern more than just a staff?
"I am usually here, or the monster hunter's guild." He said with a bright grin.
The moon is shining but I can't see the light
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
