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!
She doesn’t end up leaving her home until the last few rays of the sun dip below the horizon. She could’ve waited a bit longer, until the sun had fully vanished for the moon to take its place, but she loves the sun far too much to dwell hidden away. She tempts her fate, in a safe way of course, as she slips from her door to walk. It’s cold out, a brisk Leafchange evening, yet she wears nothing that shows it. The cold doesn’t affect her as much, feeling more like a cooling blanket just a fraction past room temperature rather than the brisk, teeth chattering cold. She doesn’t particularly know where she’s going either, she just aims to simply wander and see where her legs take her.
There’s a small part of her that appreciates the freedom of it, after having it nearly taken away.
And so she wanders, until she spots the Temple in the distance. Her feet begin to take her there on their own accord — the Atheneum being where she became what she is, and the same place she had met an Ascended. The irony within it was great. Yet, Rexanna doesn’t step foot into the room, instead she remains at the Temple center, walking beside the pews and pressing her less feeling fingers against the wood, noticing the dust that clings to her pale fingers.
He had gone from fugitive to king in the span of a few minutes, and though he had put on a brave face as he left the manor earlier that day, Jigano had not known what to do or say. He had to tell the others, had to lay plans and make sure that they would be ready when Zariah returned but until Ronin joined them he found himself at loose ends.
At least, until he had finally come by the Temple to try and seek solace in either prayer or silence and saw the notice Edrei had pinned to the board. His name... but not Ronin's. Something had gone wrong, and he needed to speak to the Guildmaster, but now it was late and he didn't know what to do.
So he had taken a seat in a pew, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he stared broodingly at the Shrine tucked away in the corner, knowing that no gods could help him with his problems, not after his last prayer with Safrin, but hoping that inspiration might strike, divine or otherwise.
A few ideas were starting to form, faint and tantalizing with promise, when a quiet step from behind caught his attention and he straightened, realizing with a start how the light had faded. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized the last glow of sunset was fading from the sky, and he instinctively shifted his eyes to those of a fox as he looked back to see a familiar face, pale and beautiful in the last light of evening, though no longer as radiant as she had once been.
"Rexanna?" he said softly, loathe to disturb the quiet of the place. "Are you alright?" A fair question, given that he had last seen her sitting in this room near the Launceleyns and avoiding his eyes as she silently supported the Tyrant with body language that had seemed more ashamed than proud.
It seems everyone has a lot on their minds, Rexanna especially has gone so deep in her own that she doesn’t notice Jigano sitting in a pew up ahead, not even with her newly enhanced sight. She continues her slow trudge until he speaks and she notices him, eyes lifting and sapphire in the dark filtered light. “Jigano.” She acknowledges with a smile, but unlike the one she wore at the meeting, this one was warm and full of her old charm — even if she wasn’t as radiant. She moves a bit faster to get closer to him before she sits in a pew as well and regards him. “I’m actually far better than I have been in months.” She acknowledges with a small smile, nothing to reveal her newfound secret just yet.
But she notices that perhaps it might seem a bit off, considering the last time they had seen one another. “A lot has changed since that meeting, I can at least say I don’t work for Zariah any longer.” She admits, recalling the back and forth between Bard and Queen. Her head tilts toward Jigano with a soft smile playing at her lips, the rest of her angling with it with a curious gleam to her eye. “Congratulations by the way?” She adds, suddenly wondering if he would think that Edrei becoming Queen is what stopped her from working for Zariah. Ah, but the tale would continue and deepen, and she keeps her smiles small to keep from giving out too much information right away.
Though part of her guesses he might already know, asking if she’s okay — she does think without the glamour she appears a bit more tired, but Rexanna is certain he might see something is up with the brand sported on her collarbone and it’s reappearance. That and she hasn’t struck up a sparkler to give her light to see — she finds she can see just fine without it. “How are you dealing with it all?” She asks, referring to becoming a King and the belief that Zariah is gone.
07-27-2019, 11:43 PM (This post was last modified: 07-28-2019, 12:47 AM by Jigano.)
Given her preoccupation, he expected her to be as conflicted and lost in thought as he was. Her quick smile, however small, was a welcome contradiction of that worry, and her unexpected revelation of improvement was a welcome one. He smiled in return, tilting his head to the side in a wry acknowledgment that things were better - because Zariah was gone, or so he assumed. "That is very good to hear," he murmured, courtesy and sincerity for once able to wear the same words. Her followup, however, was even more welcome, and his grin widened with genuine pleasure. "Gods most fortunate, that's even better to hear. I'd meant to ask you what was going on, but when I was declared fugitive..." He shrugged a little helplessly, hoping she would understand why a man wanted by the Tyrant's regime dared not seek out a woman who had seemed to be working for it. "Well. Congratulations, my friend."
Her own congratulations ended in a question, as well it should, and his smile slipped a little, a small shake of his head in negation. "Not exactly," he said softly. His downward glance had begun with unease, but he caught the brand peeking from her bodice and felt a flicker of worry - and a curdle of anger at Bastien - as he bit his lip against asking about it immediately. He had never seen it there before, and at first the memory of the story she had shared with him did not surface, so much as the memory of the bruises Lucas's fangs had left on her shoulder.
Her question was a difficult one to answer; one he had been asking himself for over an hour without a satisfactory response. He looked away, catching his lip between his teeth as he sought to buy himself a little more time. "From the frying pan to the fire, as they say," he said with a smile that held little humor. "And speaking of fire, shall I light a lantern for us? I hadn't realized how late it was."
She nods in response, an easy small shrug. “A lot happened. Bastien had been thrown in jail, and I went to speak with her to negotiate his release.” She offers easily. “But in order to do so, she had be become a diplomat, to try and spread her good graces around.” There’s a bit of a quiet laugh at that, but it dies off quickly. Instead, she takes his congratulations with a dip of her head. “It’s relieving to say the least.” She lets her gaze drift over him as her question reaches his ears and his smile fades slightly. His head dips lower, and her brows furrow ever so slightly. “Oh?” She replies quietly, uncertainty sitting beneath the mask of her pale face.
She doesn’t exactly expect a true answer, having the news so fresh often made it hard to figure out what took priority. And she nods in understanding with his analogy, it’s how it always goes. “I had the same thing when they told me I was to marry Calstron.” She says, head tilting slightly as she references the Prince of Asciend.”Everything happens so fast it’s hard to keep up.” She gives him a small wink before he asks about the lanterns, a hint of surprise laces along her face before she nods once more. “I hadn’t really noticed to be honest.” A small awkward laugh leaves her lips, but she stands to light a lantern in the hopes that Jigano will remain seated.
Her back is to him as she lights a lantern and brings it over, her sapphire gaze rising to meet his. “It seems both of us have had life altering things happen to us. All we can do now is adapt, right?” She asks, a tilt to her head and she openly smiles to him (forgetting for a moment she had been trying to keep it a secret), a smile wide enough to see the sharpened canines.
"What good graces?" the bard asked, mostly rhetorically, with a disdainful scowl that quickly faded as a thoughtful look replaced it. "So she used Bastien as a hostage to your good behavior? As she threatened Amalia to try and control me," he added darkly. And as she had threatened Aoife to secure Remi's obedience, only that had finally been the straw too far.
The mutual congratulations circled back around to his current dilemma, and her comparison with her previous marriage was uncomfortably apt. Jigano nodded enthusiastic agreement to the way things were moving too fast to keep up, though he arched a brow in curiosity when she admitted to not noticing the lack of light. Had she gained another magical skill or gift from the gods? But when she rejoined him with light in hand and her smile widened to reveal her fangs he drew in a sharp breath, eyes widening in surprise. "Rexanna, your teeth... you... but how? You're a mage, but Maea said... the Voice told her that it was impossible for those born with magic to Ascend!" Clearly not impossible, for here Rexanna sat, but for a moment his already overwhelmed brain spun dizzily, seeking anything familiar to find purchase upon.
A small sigh passes through her nose in agreement to Jigano’s idea of what occurred, of how the Merciless gained her crown, but she doesn’t add more onto it. Instead, she leaves to grab the light to return to Jigano with that blasted smile. As it turns out, cats out of the bag, and she watches quietly while he sorts through his thoughts. It almost exhausts her to watch him become overwhelmed, and she aims to reach a hand out to set on his arm in a comforting notion. If he lets her, he’ll notice how she’s not quite as warm as she had been once. “I didn’t think it was possible either, actually.” She admits. “But Bastien went to the Voice to see, and she said she could try. And so we did.” Her explanation was far easier than how the events took place.
There’s a small amount of sadness that passes over her face, a glimmer for a moment and no longer as she regards her pale haired friend. “Nothing much has changed, though I had hoped to lose my magic for yet another reason Zariah might find me useless.” She says offhandedly. “But instead, I only lost those gifts granted to me from Frey. The glamour is gone and my brand is back. But I have no more allegiance to Halyven, my allegiance is here. So I find I’m not as afraid of the brand as I was once.” She says with a small amount of pride in her growth as a person. “Though throughout the process it felt like my magic was trying to escape, so that was unpleasant.” Her lips form a small half frown at the memory, though her voice makes it sound as though she’s talking about bad weather. Her gaze lifts to meet his again. “But, possible!”
The hand to his arm was a touchstone, something to focus on and help him begin to find a place for these new revelations, and he smiled wanly at Rexanna in gratitude for her care. Her simple explanation was almost certainly hiding an entire saga behind the handful of words she actually used, but he could understand if she didn't wish to share what might have been a very personal decision in more detail. Still, more snippets emerged, and he exhaled slowly, listening with surprise as she revealed her magic to remain, and only the gifts from the old gods lost in the exchange.
"Even so, a brand can be changed," he murmured, still a little dazed. "But this... all of this... Rexanna, it's incredible. Though..." He hesitated, gaze sharpening as some of the ramifications sunk in. "This... what you've done... did you do it for yourself? Or for Bastien? Pledging your allegiance to the Voice seems to be a far more permanent choice than to any of the old gods. With her, there is no going back..." And she had, from what little, admittedly biased, information they had, once instigated a war that she had no reason not to continue. And Safrin had once implied that her control over her 'children' might be far more absolute than she let on, holding it as a trump card. The thought of Rexanna falling under that control after running from Zariah...
Jigano shuddered, feeling a coldness settle into the pit of his stomach, but still he tried to find a reassuring smile for his friend. "Hopefully Zariah will find you more than she can handle if she returns," he murmured instead.
She watches with a twinkle to her eye as Jigano listens to her words and it all sinks in, a soft smile playing at the corner of her lips. But then he seems to have the same concern that Wessex had, and there’s a part of her that wishes people wouldn’t just assume she’s doing it for someone. She nods with that same smile, nothing leaving the mask of her face as she shrugs. “Myself.” She pauses to regard his next set of words, of how Zariah would find her too much to handle, and she grins to him. “Gods willing.” She agrees before she sits back in her pew and glances to the Shrine.
“I was on the fence of it for awhile, debating and running through the options. But weeks ago, Zariah summoned me to the Manor.” She pauses, her eyes lowering as she recalls it all. “She showed me her son, had a casual conversation of children, of how I wanted to be a mother, once.” And she says ‘once’ because it’s no longer an option, one she feels deeply but is coming to terms with it. “She told me to marry Peter, to become a Launceleyn and bear his children to add to the family. I told her no.” Her eyes skate over to him, from her tale before she’s sure he knows what comes to mind (princes and brands and dungeons) before she continues. “She said I didn’t have a choice, would be married the following morning. Locked me in a room. I escaped later that night from the bathroom.”
There’s a heavy pause as she regards her friend. “My mind was made up, then. I went and grabbed Bastien and went to the Voice and Ascended.” She says easily, though it’s anything but. “So I did it for myself. Though the Voice was sure to bring up the similar concerns that Bastien may have convinced me. But no, I’ll tell you the same I told her. I wanted to become a weapon, no longer a pawn to be played.” She sits up a bit straighter. “And so I did.”
The bard listened solemnly at the tale she had to tell, one he'd had no inkling of in the flurry of panicked preparations and fugitive false faces he'd been forced to resort to with Zariah's rise to power. That Rexanna had gone to bargain for Bastien's release was no surprise. That Zariah had tried to force her into a marriage and make her a broodmare for more baby Launceleyn's was... but only until he remembered her unsettling fixation on women bearing babies to make more soldiers during the farcical meeting she'd called.
Hearing that Rexanna had escaped brought a smile back to his face, and a wry tilt of his head in congratulations at her daring and quick-thinking, even suspecting that she was skimming over most of the juicy details. Still, the ending to the tale raised a few questions, even as he nodded solemn agreement with her desire to be a weapon rather than a pawn. Even though he thought she had been far more than a mere pawn before, what he thought mattered less than what she thought of herself, and if this change in her being gave her more confidence, he would be happy for her.
"And becoming Ascended so that you could no longer have children, and thereby escape Zariah's plans for you?" he asked gently. "Did that not play a part in your decision as well?" He hesitated, then shook his head with a sigh and a wry smile. "I am sorry, my friend. I am being less supportive than I mean to be. I find the Voice..." He hesitated, a faint frown marring his features before he sighed and shrugged. "Worrisome. But if you find this change a reason for joy, then I am glad you were able to overcome the dangers and emerge victorious." He gave her one of his seated half-bows, his smile more sincere as the revelation sank in more fully and he came to terms with it. "And what will you do now, with your new abilities... and limits?" he added more hesitantly, remembering the things Sam had told him about being an Ascended that were less than joyous. Fear of fire, and sunlight, and a lack of taste and dulling of most other sensations until he was frantic for something as small as being able to feel the warmth of a friend's hand... Was that the future Rexanna now had to look forward to, once the newness of her transition had worn off?
Her tale was shorter than it truly was, and it made it easier to reiterate it. Not many needed to know the gritty details, of her trip and what Ascending truly was like, what things she’s abdicated, how she changed in it. But it’s noticed in the way she’s almost inhumanly still, the way she speaks with an edge to her voice that’s a combination of happiness and calculation. Perhaps Wessex has rubbed off on her.
She watches as he nods in agreement to her, solemn as it was. It had always been her goal, ever since the King of Halyven had dubbed her his successor – had crowned her a false heir in the eyes of Asciend. As he speaks, he mentions the fact of not having children and she shrugs her shoulders gently. “Partially.” She replies, a bit offhandedly. “Her magic, it’s… So strong in comparison to anything I had.” She offers before he apologizes and speaks of the Voice, a tidbit of information she’s intrigued by, and yet the Voice had done nothing but be kind to her – had nothing but done what she’d asked, had helped her see even when others had not.
Her head tilts, and she gives him another small fanged smile in response. “Don’t you think it’s important to have someone on both sides?” She asks a bit conspirator-like, head tilting a bit more predatory than she had been previously. “I have both worlds now, and as far as I know I am the only one. The magic within me is mine, the ascended abilities are now mine too.” She contemplates, sitting back in her pew to glance at Jigano with a raised brow.
It doesn’t take her long to answer his next question. “I’m here to fight, Jigano.” She admits. “Whatever else is there? There’s always a battle.” And for Rexanna, there was nothing else. To fight, grow, adapt, improvise. She had made a permanent improvision, but one that she believed to her core that it would be fruitful.
He had seen some of Zariah's magic back when Remi had tested the barrier, and he nodded sober agreement with Rexanna's assessment of its strength. Her smile coaxed one from him as well, but it faded as her words left him looking at her in puzzlement. "Both sides of what, though? I thought the Abandoned of this world were called such because some of them merged their magic and technology in order to Ascend and challenge the Old Gods?" ...Which might put Rexanna on the path to becoming another New God, much like the Voice, he realized with a start. 108's information had been vague on that point, but he had no reason to think it was inaccurate. Still, Rex was an inherently kind woman, and he wanted to trust in that side of her.
Wanted to, but her answer to his question struck him like a blow. To fight, she said, while the sharp fangs that were the Voice's gift glittered in her mouth like tiny daggers whose only purpose was to draw blood.
She had become a weapon rather than pawn, but the same hand that moved the chess piece could wield the sword. Both were tools to be used by others. She had simply shifted herself from Zariah's hand to the Voice's, and Jigano's heart ached with fear for his friend, even as he forced himself to nod solemnly. "Yes... I suppose there is," he agreed quietly, thinking of the war that had led to the Voice being imprisoned for three hundred years, and supposedly all the Ascended with her. And perhaps the Abandoned as well? Either way, Rexanna's words brought no comfort.
"Is Bastien prepared to fight as well?" he asked instead, trying to imagine the bombastic artist flinging himself into a fight of more than words and paint.
“Both sides of what?” Rexanna’s head cocks slightly as she listens, a tale of which she hasn’t heard but it doesn’t surprise her as much as it likely would have once. “Jigano, I was blessed by Frey, abandoned or not.” She acknowledges – granted, the gifts were gone, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t still care about the gods of this land, nor her goddess. At least if she went to go and speak to the Voice, the Voice usually came. Less could be said about her previous status.
But she gives a quiet smirk toward her pale haired friend. “Though throughout it, I think that makes me enemy number one by the old god’s standards. I’ll take up poor Remi’s old mantel.” She attempts to jest, but the joke would likely fall flat. She wasn’t scared, for once. Before when she had met Frey, they had terrified her, and she had flopped in front of the god like a fish out of water. She didn’t plan to take them on, but to have both her own abilities and the Ascendeds, how could Jigano think that wasn’t something useful? “The Voice didn’t know if it would be possible, but she tried. And my magic fought and writhed within me the entirety of my ascension, and yet it remained. She’s never tried it before as far as I’m aware, I am the first of it all.” She says, and as if it helped to prove the point, she opens her hand near the lantern, to flicker the flame and make it grow big and shrink before her eyes flit toward Jigano.
He seems… Less enthusiastic about it than she had hoped, the only person truly excited about her Ascension aside from Bastien was Deimos, and thank the gods for them. She knows she hasn’t made a mistake, but it’s hard when everyone believes it is. And in terms of battles? There’s always a war to be raged, to be won. At first it was the Spire Demon, then the Spire, then the Barrier, then Zariah. And now? What would come next? Rexanna wanted to be prepared.
He questions if Bastien’s prepared to fight, and she looks back from the lantern to him with a smile. “Bastien would do anything for me.”
08-06-2019, 01:23 AM (This post was last modified: 08-06-2019, 04:22 PM by Jigano.)
”Was, but not still are?” he asked gently, wanting to hear it from Rexanna herself, to make sure he wasn’t misunderstanding. Rexanna might wish to place herself as a go-between, and clearly she had been accepted by the Voice, but whether the old gods would still speak to her now that she had become Ascended? Jigano was not so sure. The magic she had arrived with hadn’t been a willing gift of the old gods, though, that much her was certain of. That magic, combined with the Voice’s blessing—
She picked up his meaning clear enough, and he returned her smirk with a tired smile, appreciating her wit and courage, even if he disagreed with the choice that she had made. After speaking with Sam, he was becoming more certain that the Voice was growing in both power and influence over her children now that she was awake and free. Still, to say she stood on both sides in one breath, and then to turn around and accept that she was an enemy of the old gods – not by her own preference, but knowing that her choices would have that result – sent a chill down the bard’s weary spine.
Defining herself as a weapon and then being at ease with the enmity of three – or six – major deities was a level of confidence that the bard could only dream of, and he watched her curiously, amazed at the changes in her in so short of time. Amazed… and unsettled, seeing echoes of Samuel’s sudden blaze of fervor in Rexanna’s sharpened smiles and casual displays of cocky assurance. His eyes widened at the site of her flames being wielded with such casual mastery even while she smiled with fangs on display. And not just the mastery of her magic – he had not asked if Bastien would follow her, but if the hedonistic artist would be willing to fight for a goddess when Jigano had largely thought the man preferring to avoid violence. The way Rexanna answered made it sound as though what Bastien wanted or was willing to do didn’t matter so much as what Rex wanted him to do, and the lorekeeper straightened slowly, smile falling away as he regarded his friend with newfound wariness.
”And if he asked you not to fight?” he tried, wondering what would happen if she and Bastien ever found a point of disagreement. ”Would you do that for him?”
