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!
News came on the wings of a raven, shortly before the scouts and miners returned. A woman found out at The Fangs, apparently dressed for Longheat. Normally this wouldn't merit the Hailstorm's attention, but no one survived out there, in the deep cave systems. It was unlikely, but possible that she had some connection to Mageglass, or even something more powerful. To have survived out there even for a few hours... well. It had piqued his interest.
The scouts would bring her into a side room within the Palace, where Neron waited in a comfortable chair beside a fire that he could not feel. He stared into the flames, barely interested as the door knocked, his brow furrowed with his own thoughts.
Opposite him was another comfy chair, already spread with the deep, rich fur of an Ursur. Better to keep his guest warm and happy - all the better to loosen her tongue. "Bring her in," he said. And in she came.
07-22-2019, 06:50 PM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2019, 11:05 PM by Zariah.)
ZARIAH
It was a frigid hell that the Voice had sent her into, one she would have liked at least the slightest indication about so as to have brought a coat. Unlike the Goddess, she was susceptible to the elements, but fortune had shined upon her. Military training allowed her retain some body heat, allowing her magic to release bursts of static electricity along her skin and through her muscles to keep her moving long enough to be found by guards. Under most circumstances she would have put up a fight but…well if this led to somewhere warm she figured she had a better chance of breaking out of a jail cell than surviving a night in this wilderness.
The citadel had been a surprising bastion of civilization in the middle of the tundra, still remaining quiet in the face of the guards. She focused instead on not shivering, not wishing to show any sign of weakness as her body began to warm again, skin tingling from regaining sensation and the after effects of her magic. When finally called she walked into the room with her head held high, heels clicking against the floor in her characteristic way.
She saw the top of his head over the back of the chair and for a moment her step hesitated, zeroing in on the man in the chair with laser focus. It couldn’t be.
A small bolt of lightning zapped the forearm of the guard guiding her in – not enough to cause real damaged just enough to make him let her go – and in four quick steps she had gotten around the chair to behold his face. Neron. The Merciless froze, scrutinizing every inch of the man that sat before her in the chair, face blank of emotion save for her eyes – uncertainty, tinged with hope – which he had always been so adept at reading anyways. The number of times she had imagined this reality, what she would do, what she would say, did not prepare her for the reality. For a moment she was struck dumb, the slight part of her lips the indicator of her shock.
And, to her own surprise, she began to laugh. Not loudly, not uncontrolled; a low, chuckle, lips curving in a mischievous smile.
”My, my, my…It is amazing what you can accomplish when you don’t laze away the day in bed, isn’t it, Neron?” she cooed, the only thing keeping her from jumping into his arms the presence of his guards in the room.
It was the click of those damned heels that cast his mind back, Neron already sitting up a little in his chair as the sound drew closer and his guards grumbled and pressed in as if to stop Zariah. He held up a hand in a silent gesture that had them halting immediately, leaving him to recline back in his seat, head tilting up to behold Zariah in all of her... well. Glory wouldn't exactly be correct at this moment in time.
"Get her something warm to drink," he said offhand to the guards, waving a hand to dismiss them. "You have managed to find a gem in The Fangs, after all." They left without question, and Neron allowed a catlike smile to spread across his face as, after all this time, the first thing out of her mouth was a sarcastic quip.
"You don't know that I don't laze the day away in bed," he retorted. "I just got better at delegation. At least I know how to dress for the weather."
07-22-2019, 07:44 PM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2019, 11:06 PM by Zariah.)
ZARIAH
Indeed, Zariah was not at her absolute best looks wise in that moment. Her hair was tousled from the freezing winds, skin flushed and muscles just barely trembling as her body tried to warm itself, everything from her knees down damp from snow. But she still held herself as though she wore a gown of liquid platinum, shoulders back and head high, the Merciless owned any room she entered, beautified or battle worn.
Her lips did quirk a small smirk as he called her a gem though. How nice.
Only when the door clicked shut behind the guards did she finally move. ”Well the place I came from wasn’t situated on a glacier so forgive my unseasonable attire.” she said as she approached, with a quickness that someone as near frozen as her should not have been capable of. Her hands, still freezing cold, lifted to the sides of his face so as to tilt it up towards her as she leaned forward to…she stopped short, nose almost touching his. What if he doesn’t remember, like Edrei? It had not occurred to her until just that moment, with his lips painfully close, lips she had dreamed of kissing again within her reach – and yet her mind forced her to wait a torturous moment longer.
”Please tell me you remember us?” she whispered, her guard dropping for the briefest of moments as she stared into his eyes, hoping that everything she had coveted for a year was not lost on him.
Yes, and where exactly was that? Neron's better judgement warred with the strange warmth that bloomed in his chest at having familiarity stroll back into his life at such short notice. Were the others in this place where Zariah had come from? Was Edrei? Was Loren?
His lips parted as if to ask the very question, but Zariah beat him to it. His steel eyes could do little more than roam all over her as she drew so close, her perfume mingling with the smell of cold and something all together more alive, like flowers, like the forest.
Neron ought to have flinched when she touched him, her hands like ice, but he made no indication to show that he felt it. Instead he held her gaze, inhaling deeply at their closeness, at whatever it was Zariah suddenly thought she was going to do. "Remember us?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Us as in... you and I?"
07-22-2019, 08:07 PM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2019, 11:06 PM by Zariah.)
ZARIAH
”Remember us?”
Her heart thumped painfully in her chest. He could be teasing. He could be building to something she wished to hear…
”Us as in…you and I?” Not with a smirk. Not with playfulness. But with a raised eyebrow. With confusion.
Her heart sank into her stomach, and with her guard down as it was, Neron would see more than the cold, bare flesh she regularly had on display. In a rare moment of vulnerability he would see the Zariah’s emotions crash down upon her like a wave, sadness sending her briefly careening into a wall of dismay and shock. As much as it was a privilege to see the Launceleyn Family Head in all her humanity it was a terrifying reminder of it as well.
He didn’t remember. He didn’t remember.
In an instant her guard was raised again, her expression as dead as her skin was cold and she pulled away, her filed nails lightly scraping against the skin of his jaw as she straightened, hands falling to her sides. For a moment she simply stared at him, contemplating what to say – how to explain – everything she had known and experienced that he had not. Best to just lay all the cards on the table she supposed. Zariah turned on her heel and fetched the large white fur off the opposite chair and wrapped it around her shoulders, standing as near the fire as she dared without worrying it would catch.
”The power that brought us to Caido plucked me from further down the timeline than others.” she said, the firelight glowing in her eyes. ”I presume the most recent event from Northaven you remember was Cyton’s death. That had been nearly two years in the past for me. In that time you and I married, and I bore you a son named Jace.” she said quietly, finally looking back over at him, face still expressionless. The fur around her shifted slightly as she fiddled with something, before her hand stuck out from the white fluff to show him a gold ring with a pristine black stone set into it, a piece of jewelry he had inherited shortly after his father’s death.
First there was the sensation that he was looking at Zariah in earnest, rather than the facade that he knew she showed to the world. It wasn't the first time he had seen it, but it certainly was the first time in a long time. Before Neron could speak she stepped back and away from him, her fingernails dragging against his skin in a way that was infinitely painful and pleasurable. He inhaled sharply - no one had touched him like that (no one had touched him) in a very, very long time.
They wouldn't dare, not now.
And oh, but he'd missed it.
Blinking back into focus, Neron found Zariah draped in an Ursur fur (rather fetchingly so, in fact) and standing before the fire. Shaking off the dark familiarity of her touch, he tried to actually listen to what she was saying.
Frankly, it was ridiculous. "Hold it, now," he said, raising a hand in an effort to make her pause. "What power that brought us to Caido? What do you mean, others?" Never mind timelines. "I have been here for near a year, Zariah, and you are the first face I have seen that doesn't belong to a stranger."
He hadn't had time to dwell on before. Cyton's death was a fuzzy, grey thing in his memory, frozen out by the new environment. Marriage and a son didn't even come into it yet. It couldn't. Because if it did...
"Well if what you say is true I seem to have good taste," he quipped unhelpfully, remaining in his seat to watch her.
07-22-2019, 10:18 PM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2019, 11:06 PM by Zariah.)
ZARIAH
His sharp intake of breath did bring a fond smile to her lips. There was a reason she filed her nails to points, wearing them long and prettily painted; and he was it.
Slowly she glanced over at him a slight raise in her eyebrow. Clearly he couldn’t focus on the meat of her words because he didn’t have a basis of anything else. She sighed and put the ring back on her finger. The Merciless considered him for a moment, reconsidering her moment of dismay. Why did it matter that he did not remember? It did not change her affection for him. It did not change that their son was in the Hollowed Grounds. She was his inevitable future, and he would be hers again. Zariah would not allow herself to wallow in pity when all that she had wanted sat but mere feet from her. He was hers, whether he remembered or not. Zariah walked back over to him, seating herself on his lap. Whether he remembered or not she wanted closeness to him. She tilted her head so the side of it rested on the back of the chair, gazing at him with a fondness in her eyes, even if the rest of her expression was blank.
”That is because very few appeared outside the Hollowed Grounds.” she said, exhibiting a patience she had never had before. ”A great many of us appeared inside the barrier. Lots from Northaven, but others from other worlds as well. It was the doing of a goddess known as the Voice who was trapped there. We were brought her to help free her, and in Flowerbirth we did so.” she said, pausing, watching him absorb the information. She was studying him, relearning every line, every hair, every hint of color and shadow that made up his handsome face. She smiled a little, briefly, lifting a hand to his cheek and letting her thumb slide across it. ”Soon enough you will see many more. Edrei, Beatrix – they are back in the Hollowed Grounds still. Jace is there too, so you can meet your son for the first time. You will not be alone amongst strangers anymore. Your family is here.” she said soothingly.
She laughed lightly at his quip, as unhelpful as it was. ”As if you ever questioned the quality of your taste.” she said dryly, rolling her eyes a little. She held his gaze quietly for a moment, soaking him in. ”I wish you remembered though.” she admitted quietly, barely more than a whisper, another glimpse of her self before it was brought back behind her perfect porcelain mask.
Neron had been used to Zariah's running hot and cold, once upon a time, but the world had gotten its hands upon him, moulding him to the situation he found himself in now, and he was no longer quite so acquainted with it. So he stiffened a touch in the chair as she moved to drape herself upon his lap, unsure what reaction she was looking to goad out of him. She continued to speak - and if her words were supposed to illicit a reaction from him, they would fall regrettably short.
Hollowed Grounds? Barrier? His brow furrowed. The Voice, too... it sounded like a fairytale, one he'd have laughed off were it not for the very obvious evidence of it sitting in his lap. And even then, if Zariah had come wandering in from Whitebrim he'd think her snowmad. The fact that she'd been found out at The Fangs, though... that did make him think.
"What are you talking about - I will see many more?" He sat up a fraction. "Zariah, are you bringing more people here?" Something in his steel eyes hardened. "How did you get here?"
07-23-2019, 11:58 AM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2019, 11:07 PM by Zariah.)
ZARIAH
Feeling stiffen as she made herself comfortable struck at the tiny bit of softness she shielded beneath layers of fire and ice; a tiny bit he had once upon a time managed to bore his way to. Her hand hesitated on his face, before dropping to her own lap as she stared at him, a mix of confusion and hurt playing out in her gaze. Once upon a time this would have made her lash out - a time that this Neron likely had imprinted in his mind. Because this Neron didn't know, she reminded herself. This Neron hadn't witness and seen the way she had grown and changed - the way he had changed her.
The Merciless fell silent, contemplating her words now with great care. "I am not bringing anyone here, no. But it is certainly only a matter of time before people discover the way here I was led to. And then they will run rampant, without regard for the wishes of those here, for they lack any semblence of discipline." she said softly. "There was a tree in the Greatwood known as the Mathair. I was told to strike it with lightning. Upon doing so I suddenly appeared where I did." she explained, feeling no reason to hide anything from him.
Finally she glanced away from him, studying her own hands instead. "Why don't you keep asking questions and I shall answer. I am your prisoner after all." she said with a slight smirk and mirthless laugh. Her, a prisoner of one of her own. As if.
Neron listened intently to her words to avoid looking at her face or trying to understand her gestures, and something like a smirk managed to tug at his lips as she spoke about the apparent heathens they were to expect, running amok in his lands. "They are welcome to try. The Tundra claims the lives of all who walk it unprepared. It would have claimed yours, had you not been so lucky." It was the joy of being where they were. He did not have to try hard to defend the Citadel.
The Greatwood seemed to give a whisper of recognition, but it was passing if that. "So you are telling me that a goddess called the Voice is responsible for bringing us here, to Caido? Us, alongside everyone else from Northaven? Why, then, was I thrown here instead of there? What is there to expect from this... Voice?" He mentioned nothing about her status as a prisoner. Some matters were better off not pushed.
07-23-2019, 10:57 PM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2019, 11:07 PM by Zariah.)
ZARIAH
Zariah smirked as well as he spoke of those who might follow dying near upon entry. But that she might die made her chuckle. "Perhaps. But you don't know the tricks I've learned in the last year either." she said teasingly. "Though I can think of a few from the Hollowed Grounds I should very much like to find frozen to the ground." she said, looking at her nails, pondering on those who had made the greatest nuisances of themselves during her tenure as queen.
Which...she supposed that would be Edrei now. The thought of Edrei as monarch brought a cold grin and laugh to her lips.
"Not everyone from Northaven." she corrected gently. His other questions gave her pause. She considered her answer in silence, pulling the fur a bit tighter around her shoulders, pressing back against the warmth it offered. "It seems either the people in this place have not told you, or they have forgotten the history of Caido. None of this will fully make sense unless you know it." she said slowly, eyes flickering over to the fireplace. "Three hundred or so years ago, a magic user grew powerful enough to be considered a goddess, and she turns Accepted individuals into those called the Ascended - they are somewhat similar to Bloodfiends. With the Ascended army, she seiged open warfare against the Old Gods. They in response combined their power to trap her in a place known as the Hollowed Grounds. There was a barrier they put in place to seal her and her Ascended away. By some means, she managed to call upon power from within to bring those capable of aiding her to Caido from other worlds, hence why so many appeared there, and still do on occassion." she said, explaining slowly and clearly. If he had questions, she would pause to expound of course.
"As for why you appeared here, I do not know. Perhaps the good you could do for her was better put to use in this place, for I suspect she plans to finish what she started three hundred years ago." she said, looking back over at him finally, hoping to catch his gaze again. "I had recently claimed power over the heathens that run amok in the Hollowed Grounds." she said, rolling her eyes and sighing, as if thinking about the idiots that populated the place alone exhausted her. "She called to me and said she had a task only I was powerful enough to accomplish, and that was when I was led to the tree and subsequently...the Fangs did you call it?"
She fell silent then for a time, considering him. "What has happened to you in this year alone, Neron?"
Her smirks and teasing might have drawn something from Neron in return a year ago, but he was no stranger to Halo, and he didn't care how much she had learned in her time in Caido. The Tundra would eat up and spit out any and every living thing left unprotected in its midst for too long. Raising an eyebrow, Neron listened carefully to her explanation of the Voice, the Hollowed Grounds, the barrier and the Ascended. "My people would not know of much outside their own history. The mountains surrounding Halo are impassable by all but the most foolhardy," he murmured.
And while he had questions, he was also creating a list of things to do in the back of his mind; ravens to send, queries to those outside Halo. As for his being here, rather in the Hollowed Grounds - Neron snorted and rolled his eyes. "Given that I have heard nothing from or about her, I have my doubts. She did nothing to aid me when I was first dropped into this place." No, there had been no Voice. But there had been someone else.
It didn't surprise him, to find that she had found a position of leadership in whatever place she'd landed; it was what the Launceleyns did, after all. It was what he had done. "Me?" he echoed, glancing all around them. "I was dropped from my townhouse and into the snowdrifts of the Tundra. I was saved by a creature of this place. We made a deal, and she appointed me the Warden of the Citadel. I have ruled this place since."
It was disheartening in a way to not get the sort of reaction she expected. His spirit had been dampened it seemed – or perhaps frozen over in this unforgiving tundra. For a moment the sadness reached her eyes but quickly disappeared for determination. Whatever had caused this she would fix. Whatever was taken, she would take back. Whatever had been destroyed, she would rebuild. Even if Neron were not so close to her heart as he was, she would feel the same. He was family, and family was everything.
”It makes sense then why you do not know. I will be a valuable resource then.” she said with a light shrug. She didn’t think she was in any danger with Neron around, but it never hurt to have more than one reason for one to not be murdered in their sleep.
Zariah considered his words quietly, staring into the fireplace again. ”I do not believe she could communicate outside the barrier with any clarity, and since it has fallen…” she shrugged. In three hundred years, certainly one built quite the list of things to do she assumed. ”But perhaps that is why she sent me to you now. How else would I have found the portal, how else would I just so happened to have appeared where your guards were stationed?” she said, the tiniest of smiles.
Her gaze darkened slightly at his tale though, the smile dissipating in an instant. ”What deal?” she asked, tone serious and lacking emotion as she stared at him seriously. ”Have you been bound to another, Neron? Like back in Northaven?” she asked, voice just above a whisper.
