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!
"Correct," Neron agreed on her status as a 'valuable resource', though the way he held himself in his chair and the way he looked her over suggested that for all the distance she was trying to close, he was being very particular about keeping her at arm's length.With a shrug as to this Voice's intentions or the reasons for her sending Zariah (apparently) to Halo, he declined to comment. He was not of the Hollowed Grounds, and he held little interest for the place other than why people were suddenly being vomited into Halo from it.
Certainly, there would be a patrol - at the very least - to keep an eye on where Zariah had come through, in case an insurgence was about to follow. Ah, but then she went all 'head of the family' about his comings and goings in the Citadel, and he had to smile, even if it was one of defiance.
"If you are referring to something ridiculous like marriage, then no," he said. "She asked for something - in return, I am where I am in this place." Frowning gently, he glanced away from Zariah. "Sorry," he muttered. "But you are not exactly someone I ever expected to see again. It isn't easy."
Neron's response did nothing to soothe her concerns for him. He obfuscated, he danced around the issue. In some ways it was surprising, given the impulsive loyalty they had beat into them since infancy. In other ways, it was so very Neron. "Such a lawyer you are, even atop a glacier; speaking alot yet saying so little." she said with a click of her tongue, as if to chide him.
But then she fell silent, considering him as she tried to piece together what had happened from what little he did say. It was clear that in some capacity, he had found himself in a position of repayment to some force - one he could not overcome on his own. It made her stomach lurch with guilt. "Do not apologize to me." she said lightly, finally rising from his lap with grace. But she didn't go far; she simply stepped in front of where he gazed. Gently she placed his chin between her thumb and curled forefinger, tilting his head up to meet her gaze if not met with resistance.
Then the rarest phrase in Zariah's vocabulary passed through her lips.
"I am sorry, Neron." she said, voice ringing clear with sincerity. "I have failed you. Had I known you were here I would have tried to come sooner, but ignorance does not excuse my shortcomings in this regard." She paused, allowing that to soak in. Trust needed to be rebuilt and secured. He had been on his own and under another's thumb too long with no hint of her existence. His place amongst a loyal family needed to be rekindled in his mind. With her free hand she reached out and stroked his hair as she had so long ago, as he lay on her lap, soaking wet from the wake up call she had given him. "But you are not alone any more, nor shall you be, and now that we are here, without our oath holding us back to a worthless crown, I will not see a single one of my family in chains ever again." Her voice was low and steady as she spoke. This was no grand proclamation, no ego boosting ideal. This was a promise, and Zariah did not make promises she did not intend to keep to her family.
"Tell me how I can help you. What is the situation, what did you promise? You needn't bear any burden alone again."
"I stopped being a lawyer the moment I was dropped into the Tundra," Neron said quietly, rolling a shoulder in a shrug. Impulsive loyalty didn't hold a candle to a year of life or death, a year of learning, of authority, of not-Northaven, of progress. The shackles were off and Neron was free - and he liked it. Granted, he liked being under the thumb too, to some extent, but it wasn't just getting out of bed on time and training his magic that he had to think about any more.
He breathed a sigh of relief as Zariah finally removed herself from his lap, though the hand on his chin and the fingers in his hair were familiar enough to have him closing his eyes, almost as if to resist what his mind and body wanted to do. "And how would you have gotten here, from behind your barrier?" he wished to know.
Steel eyes opened again as she continued, Neron sitting back and out of her touch, a cold smile creeping across his face. He shook his head. "Forget the family, Zariah. Or forget me and my part of it, at least. Go back to where you came from." His hands clenched, hiding the ice that had begun to form between his fingers, and he rose to his feet.
"It was a perfect deal," he said, shaking his head and turning to gaze at her.
"I promised my firstborn child - a child I never intended to have. A child that didn't exist, until ten minutes ago." Did she get it now, the predicament she put him in? The reason that her being there was such an upheaval?
She considered his words quietly, trying to surmise where he was going. But Neron had always been difficult for her to read, so good at trickery and wordgames he kept her on her toes. Now though, she struggled to piece together the pieces of subtext, and so fell silent, waiting for him to say all he wished to say. Except for when he asked questions of course.
"I am not certain. I've the benefit of hindsight now. But I am certain I would have found a way more quickly as soon as I connected the Voice to the Spire that held the way out." she said with a light shrug. People got in their own way, they cared too much about others, the nonsense of Naturals and their fragile egos. She didn't have such hinderances.
Her hands dropped as he pulled away, watching him quietly. Zariah's expression was pulled tight, emotionless, mask-like, taking in what he said without sign of her reaction to it. As he stood she did not move, simply tilting her head to continue to gaze upon him. And finally, at great length, he put all the pieces together for her. "I promised my firstborn child... Jace. Suddenly it all made sense. If only he had led with the issue, perhaps this would already be resolved. For a moment she held his gaze, before turning on her heel and walking to a window, staring out onto the frozen city below. The Zariah he remembered would have lost her temper at this point. Fire and lightning would have rained down, shouting and chaos would have ensued. Perhaps it was why he danced around the issue - but as changed as he was, so too was she. She did not storm about his citadel. She was silent, contemplative.
"You have no firstborn. Nor do you have a wife." she said quietly, at great length. Slowly she turned, her mask bearing the slightest of cracks. These words pained her to say, but she was Head of the Family, and the safety of the Family was her first priority. "The Neron who married me, who fathered Jace, remains in Northaven. He is a future you, existing on a time and plane different from this, one of many such possibilities that exist I am sure. If gods and worlds of various sorts exist, so too do different planes of time." she said with a light shrug. "And you...you are the Neron that perhaps would have pursued me, incensed by your father's poor showing towards...well...everything in existence I suppose." she said with a light laugh. Oh Cyton. What a piece of shit. "But you did not. You appeared here. You survived. You conquered." she said, a slow smile curving her lips.
"You say I should forget you are part of this family, but were it not for your upbringing, were you not Launceleyn, do not kid yourself to think you would have done so well. To the contrary, you have done everything you were ever trained to do, and have realized all we should have been destined to do over the centuries of our enslavement." she praised, pride shining in her eyes, even as it pained her to put a degree of separation between them.
With slow, deliberate steps, she approached him again, lips pursed and hazel eyes trained on his steely gaze. She stopped only when she had to tilt her head again to see him, far too close of personal space, but when had she ever respected boundaries? That at least hadn't changed. "So...why must you do this alone?" she asked softly. She lifted a hand, allowing it to slide up his chest to the side of his neck, stopping as the space between her thumb and forefinger caught his ear. Thin fingers curled and straightened through his hair, nails gently grazing his skin. "Let me stand by you as an equal, truly. This place is new, our family is free of its shackles...you have come into your own as a leader and I was bred and trained to be one. Together, we would be an unstoppable force. Surely you see this?"
Neron stood stock still as he waited for the hammer to fall, for the citadel walls to shatter and crumble, for the guards to shout and for chaos to run riot until either his empire or his... or Zariah were nothing more than ashes. So as she moved to stand by the window instead he damn near flinched, watching her back with cold eyes and an expression best described as wary.
"I don't?" he echoed, thrown off by her words and clearly not understanding it, believing her initial statements to have been lies... until she continued. Quiet understanding dawned upon his face, twisted only by mention of the man he had tried to forget existed. "Survival is more important than living, in Halo. Those who survive can make a life for themselves," he said softly. It was how he had been, and it was how the people of the citadel were. He was as much part of them now as they were him.
"I am still a Launceleyn," he said quietly, sure of that if nothing else and gazing down at her as she approached, sneaking into his personal space and oozing into all of the hidden cracks in his icy facade. "I have only ever been alone, since I arrived here. Forgive a man for growing too used to the cold."
But then she spoke of leading, of equality, and he faltered. Trust was not an easy thing, and part of him balked at lifting Zariah to a height equal to his own, given how much power she had always had for so long. But she was right, at the end of it. And whilst he would not be so easily fooled any longer, he would admit that it was smart to welcome her into the citadel.
"I will sleep on it," he said slowly, deliberately. "In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here. Is that agreeable to you?"
"And quite a life you've made, Warden." she said with a chuckle, lips pulling into a smirk. Pride gleamed in her eyes. Even without her, or his family, Neron had used this freedom to his advantage and done exactly as she had sought to do in the Hollowed Grounds. He was a sight to behold, a shining example of why their family's way of existing was superior - it created superior people with the power to conquer worlds known and unknown.
"Of course you are, you always shall be, and clearly you are one of the best of us." she said with a small smile, nails still gently grazing the skin on the back of his neck. Her head tilted slightly at his words, her expression falling into its resting neutral, though her eyes gleamed with adoration. "There is nothing to forgive. You've done what you must to claim what was always intended for you. But now you are not alone, and you needn't bear this burden on your own. Let your family help you, my dear." she said in a hushed tone.
She was unsurprised by his hesitancy, he would be foolish to act otherwise and he was no fool. "Of course. And I will be happy to share with you whatever I know of the places putside Halo that I've been." she said with a nod.
The pleasure-pain of her fingers on the back of his neck coupled with the way her words stroked his ego... well, the feeling was familiar to say the least, and Zariah would succeed in thawing Neron enough that a small smile crept across his lips. "In time, perhaps," he agreed, his tone equally as hushed. "For now, let me help you instead, Zariah. You're wearing nothing but a nightdress beneath that fur - people will get ideas."
Moving to the door, he glanced over his shoulder to her. "Walk with me? I'll show you to a room, and I'll give you a tour of the citadel," he invited. "If you share what you know of these Hollowed Grounds, then I will share what I know of Halo."
Zariah’s own lips curved into a smile when his did, finally feeling as though she was seeing the person she had once known shine through, if but for a moment. His statement about her attire though made her laugh, a short, huff of a laugh. ”Let the people think what they wish. Only one man’s ever been successful in getting me to bed without getting burned.” she said in a near purr, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. Of course, that man had been him, though he did not remember.
”Anywhere.” she said to his question, stepping up alongside him. ”I would like that very much. I couldn’t glean anything really from your guards. Terribly stiff lipped – quite a trustworthy group you’ve formed.” she said with a small smile following wherever it was he led, hazel eyes taking in everything as she did so.
"Lucky man," Neron drawled, a smirk creeping across his face as he opened the doors and led them out. Of course he had inklings that the man was him, given all that Zariah had said about their not-future and his not-son. Still, if they were going to keep that all under wraps (and he very, very much encouraged that idea) it was best to get into the habit early of questioning it. Which really, was comparatively easy to do given that he honestly didn't remember any of it.
They ran into one of the palace workers as they exited the side room; a woman holding a tray with two steaming stone mugs upon it. He had asked for something warm for Zariah to drink, after all, and what better than mulled wine? "Thank you," Neron said, accepting his own mug and passing another to Zariah. "Have a room prepared for our guest, please."
The woman nodded and headed off, Neron leading them in the other direction, deeper into the icy palace. "On the contrary," he said, laughing at the idea of his guards being 'trustworthy'. "No one in the Citadel trusts easily, for good reason. And you are the first person found alive in the Fangs for a very long time."
He led them past a large set of double doors, Neron nodding at it though not stopping to show her inside. "In Northwind we'd call that the throne room," he said, not bothering to explain its purpose - they'd lived through monarchy their whole lives, after all.
Deeper into the palace they walked, the walls glittering in pale stone and glass, snow falling softly in the darkness outside. "The Citadel is the only real civilisation in Halo," Neron explained. "When blizzards are particularly bad, the people are welcomed into the palace wherever there is space to seek shelter. Otherwise, the palace is mainly used as barracks for the guards, for meetings and audiences and as a lookout point."
"Mmmm..." Zariah hummed in contemplation. "Not so much lucky as irritatingly intelligent. He had such a lazy streak though." she said, smirking to herself. For now, Zariah could content herself with talking around the issue, at least in public.
She glanced at the woman who brought steaming mugs, her mask perfectly in place by then. And though, as Neron pointed out, she was dressed in naught but a fur, a nightgown, and a pair of heeled boots, she regarded the woman with all the emotional distance and superiority of a queen. But of course, that didn't mean she lacked manners. "Thank you." she said kindly to the woman, taking the mug from her tray.
The Merciless listened quietly as she followed Neron's lead. "What good reason is that, and why is my vitality so peculiar...beyond the obvious." she asked. Clearly freezing to death seemed a likely regular occurrence in this place. But he seemed to hint at something a but more complicated.
Much of what Neron described felt very familiar. A compound, a safehaven for those living inconsequential lives, but mostly a military base. "Sounds similar to the Launceleyn Compound." she said quietly, the click of her heels echoing in the corridor. "What is it you have to look out for, if there is no real civilization beyond this?" she asked, sipping her mulled wine.
"Lazy? Sounds like a bore," Neron said offhand, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he sipped at his wine. There was no doubt about it that his lazy streak was still alive and well; he simply managed it better now, delegating rather than sleeping an entire day away. They had time to burn before Zariah's room had been prepared, and so Neron continued to show her around the palace, leading them up a flight of glittering steps and onto a platform. Around the platform was a complex system of pulleys - designed, apparently, to lift those standing on it to the top of the palace.
A servant was already present and waiting for them, nodding as they stepped on and beginning to operate the pulleys. The platform rose, not exactly swiftly, but fast enough. "There are steps, but I thought this might be easier," he said to Zariah. "Halo is unlike any other place. It is either a miracle or a curse from the gods that men have been able to thrive in it at all," he explained. "Beyond the Citadel there is nothing but the Tundra. The seasons do not break or change here, beyond the intensity of the snows. The ice never melts, and the creatures that roam the Tundra are always hungry. It does not make for a trustworthy people, with death around every corner."
He snorted softly at the reminder of how like the Launceleyn Compound the palace seemed to be. "Perhaps I unconsciously modelled it after the place," he said, before arching an eyebrow at her question. "What indeed? You're wearing one of them."
"Perhaps, but he provided a good balance to my manic need to constantly be working." she said with a smirk, sipping her wine. "Manic being his word choice." she added with a low laugh. Zariah glanced at the intricate system of pulleys and ropes, a brow raised in...surprise? Amazement? Who knew what Zariah was thinking ever? Though, she knew that answer. Neron, who she would have thought a mind reader if she didn't know better.
"I suppose since it is too cold to carry the Warden around on a litter, this would have to do." she teased with the barest hint of a smirk. His explanation made sense, and she nodded slowly. Indeed, such a climate would not breed the most trustworthy of people... but it also presented quite the opportunity. "I suppose... it would reason to assume though that should the trust of such a reluctant people were to be gained, they would be diehard loyalists." she mused, glancing to see what he thought.
"Tell me though, what do your people think of magic users?" she asked, curious, trying to place Halo into what she knew as the grander scheme of things.
She smirked as he laughed at the idea of this being like the family compund. "Of course you did. However else would you make this place feel so positively homey?" she said, lifting the mug to her lips. Hazel eyes glanced towards the white fur around her shoulders. Interesting. "Well, I am rather fond of this. Black is more my aesthetic but white really is my color." she said, lifting her shoulder so the fur covered her mouth and nose, hazel eyes, black hair, and tanned complexion standing in stark contrast to the fur. "What sort of creature does this lovely fur belong to?"
"It isn't too cold to carry the Warden around on a litter," Neron remarked with a smirk. "It's just a little distasteful when there are other things that might be done with that manpower." He watched the platform rise steadily through the palace, Neron already turning to where they would need to step off as it came to a halt.
"Magic users? They are fine with Abandoned, certainly. It sometimes feels like Halo has been abandoned by the gods - only sometimes, though." It wouldn't do to be blasphemous, now. Neron stepped off the platform and turned to hold a hand out for Zariah to do the same. "Our gifts are invaluable for the continued survival of the Citadel. They are to be cherished." And if that hadn't been the train of thought before his arrival, it certainly was now.
Leading them along the lofty heights at the top of the palace, Neron paused before a small spiral staircase, glancing back at Zariah. "Brace yourself - the wind up here can be very strong," he said. "That fur is from an Ursur - a bear-like creature that will eat anything, so far as I know."
Zariah couldn't help a low laugh at his words. "Look at you putting taste above your own ability to lounge as often as possible. My how you've grown." she teased, turning to face the same direction he did to prepare for the lift to stop.
She took his hand lightly, a small, pleased smirk curving her lips as she stepped off the platform. "How refreshing." she said. "Abandoned are looked down upon in the Hollowed Grounds, to the point they were enraged with the idea of calling them something other than Abandoned." she said with a light shrug. "I'm glad to hear you've cultivated such good taste." she said.
At the warning, she merely nodded. She could handle it, she was sure...but she did clutch the Ursur fur just a bit tighter around her shoulders in preparation. "I would think any creature living in this sort of environment would eat anything they could find." she said with a slight nod. It seemed logical enough.
