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!
dont know where the lights are taking us but something in the night is dangerous
Last time she’d come to the shrine, her Lady had been a no-show but left a very kind gift in what Wessex took as an apology. Well, not an apology. The Voice doesn’t apologize. But it wasn’t a consolation prize, either, so the not-yet-Queen had accepted it and moved on.
And then everything had changed and while she isn’t lost, exactly, there are things on her mind and a little nudge in the right direction would be helpful. The Wraith has more than enough to keep her busy, but her business and errands currently comprise only of ruling duties, and those are unsatisfactory at best. Then there are the accusations, the side-eyes, the way none of the Ascended really know if their Lady is behind any of it, but balk all the same. And they’re running out of excuses. Demanding evidence can only stall them so much.
Can’t forget that book about LongNight, either. Though they have a little more time to talk about her ideas on how to solve that disaster.
With a bit of a blighted plant from the Mathair wrapped up and tucked away in a pocket, Wessex approaches a silent and dark Atheneum at night, when she knows the stacks will be empty, the intellectuals and loreseekers gone home to sleep. Making a beeline for the false bookcase (and quite amazed no one’s come to desecrate it), she slides the books apart to reveal the obsidian orb. She smiles and reaches out to touch it. Then, stepping back, the Queen bows her head. “Hello, Lady. Do you have some time for Caido’s newest Queen?”
A humblebrag, to be sure. But if she can’t count her accomplishments here, where can she?
"Newest, but not only. That is a shame." The Voice's tone is no less full of pride as she appears, a cloud of static and sparks heralding her projection out of the orb.
She stands before Wessex, giving a respectful nod to the royal, though it is a motion acted out more for the Ascended's benefit than anything else.
"You have my undivided attention, my bright one. Speak, and I will hear you."
dont know where the lights are taking us but something in the night is dangerous
Baby steps, she thinks, still unsure whether or not the Voice can read her thoughts.
Regardless, Wessex smiles and bows back to the projection. It was a kind gesture, but they both know who has the real power here. The Queen wastes no time and dives right in. “Thank you. A couple of things. First - the blight. I’m sure someone asked you about it already, but the growing sentiment is that, despite any hard evidence, you are responsible for it.” She brings the thoroughly rotten plant out of her pocket, opens the strip of cloth, and offers it so the projection may see, if she hasn't already.
And rather than ask the question she doesn’t want to know the answer to, Wessex asks a better one. “Beating them to a cure would be a big help in the grand scheme of things. Do you have any suggestions?’ A nudge in the right direction. Should they even bother?
Wessek and her sibling are neither botanists nor scientists. Running tests would be pointless. They have no magic to zap it with. Just their own ingenuity and a very smart Goddess.
The Voice regards the rotten plant as though it is something thoroughly uninteresting, and it shows in her face exactly what she thinks of the repeated questioning about the blight. "A cure?" she repeats, raising an eyebrow and spreading her hands. "The blight does not affect you, my bright one. There is no need to cure a disease that you need not worry about. Let your co-rulers dither and die, if you must. But you..." Her tone warms, and her static eyes shine as she smiles.
"You are in a wonderful position to show the world how marvellous it is to be bright. To teach them all how much better they might be. And if they are so very worried about this blight business, they need only ask and I can take away their pain forever." She bows her head, as if it is a reverent gift that she offers - and it is.
dont know where the lights are taking us but something in the night is dangerous
She laughs bitterly. “You know as well as I do that if three centuries of shitty living won’t bring them to you, the blight isn’t likely to, either. Not when they have such popular Old God fanatics in their midst.” Rexanna is an outlier. Wessex sighs, because she doesn’t care so much if Ronin dies, if half of them die, she cares about the aftermath - their anger and what anger can do, and especially the way they outnumber the bright ones. “I’m more than willing to try, but I’m afraid they won’t be very open to the perks of being bright if they think you’re responsible for this. Is there anything I can offer them, other than what I would say: that so much was trapped in our Bubble and examples, it could be anything?”
She’s not trying to push the matter. But they are five against many. They have a Queen to protect them from public persecution (and they are plenty able to defend themselves), they have the night to flee into if they must, but they are ultimately as in the dark about it as the rest of Caido is.
"I know as well as you do that in three centuries there has never been an Ascended ruling these Hollowed Grounds. Never has there been a representative like you, able to do so much for so many." The Voice's tone is still quiet, calm, but there is something stirring in her eyes at Wessex's blatant negativity in the face of all that is to come. Something that plants a seed of doubt in the goddess; perhaps this bright one is not up to the task.
A slow smile creeps across her face as, once more - over and over, they come, they ask, they pander and assume. She sighs. "Accidents and side effects happen," she says. "Three hundred years trapped away, trying to get ones feelers out into the world again... what's a little blight between friends?"
The Voice shrugs her shoulders. "As I said. You have nothing to fear from it. Your brothers and sisters have nothing to fear. And they wouldn't either, if they joined our ranks."
08-15-2019, 09:15 PM (This post was last modified: 08-15-2019, 09:16 PM by Wessex.)
dont know where the lights are taking us but something in the night is dangerous
Yes, she will be - is - able to do so much for so many. And Wessex will, Old Gods be damned. That fire burns brightly in her, despite her doubts (and who would not doubt, who would not tremble every now and then at the obstacles?), despite the people who say she can’t, and isn’t right for the job, and who would see her torn down. How wrong is it for her to want some reassurance? Or a bald-faced lie? A coy admittance? Anything other than blatant side-stepping.
And now she has it, and the answer doesn’t bother her. Unlike Sam, she can lie her pants off, and often has little qualms about doing it. Queens need to be able to do that, sometimes.
All she wanted was to know, and with it, the unsettled, anxious parts of her calm. Something seems to click into place.
“Friends who keep you trapped get what’s coming to them,” she murmurs, insinuating perhaps, that they deserve it. Not their followers. Not all of them (not Melita and Kiada) But Safrin? Fuck her. Fuck the others too. This is a God’s war waged between mortals and just as Wessex the survivalist came to The Voice with a wish, so she will try to get every leg up she can.
“I have an idea about how to show them the power of being bright. The LongNight Monsters - I found a book that thought they were early versions of us. That in the beginning it was a race between Yourself and Ludo to get the bodies of the dead. So what if I - or even we, all of your children together - could call them back? Or control them?” Can She even control them, her (supposedly) unsuccessful, malformed experiments? They’d recognized her once, bargained with her, even, and Wessex sure as hell isn’t going to go into the next LongNight empty-handed and ill-prepared.
And then there’s the possibility of being able to use them and harnass their destructive power… Wessex’s eyes light up a little, allowing herself to travel a little further down the rabbit hole than she’s ever gone before.
The Voice hears the determination, the fire in the belly of her bright one, the reverence and faith needed to form a storm of the magnitude that will one day be Wessex the Wraith. She seems to settle somewhat, her static form growing somewhat more illuminated, and she gives a smile that does not befit her youthful visage. A cruel, sharp smile. One that agrees without saying so, one that promises so much more for the future.
Longnight and its monsters, though, is a strange distraction, though it is not necessarily one that the Voice dislikes. She spreads her hands. "Your book speaks true. It is a regret that those monstrous forms were unable to remain bright within this place. They now are a force unto themselves... and though your suggestion is an interesting one, my bright spark, those creatures are unable to sustain themselves without complete darkness. It is why they only emerge during the longest night."
Her tone grows wry. "Or are you suggesting a world of night? Where we Ascended see clearly, and those who choose shadows over brightness are all the more lacking for it?"
dont know where the lights are taking us but something in the night is dangerous
It’s not a distraction, exactly, more like… one of the many ideas floating around in her head that could lead to something great for Her children. With the emergence of a cruel smile, Wessex’s lips press into their own thin line. She likes this side of her Lady.
As for a world of darkness… Wessex doesn’t hesitate to latch on what is said, taking the bait like a naive fish in a fully stocked reservoir. “Something like in the mountains? Where the Fae say the dragons are?" As if she hasn't already had dreams of riding a dragon and scorching a certain Chieftain to ash. "I’d leave the Hallowed Grounds behind in a heartbeat, but we couldn’t get past the western barriers.” Looking to where the east is, she muses, “I haven't had time to try the other edges yet, unfortunately. But it's on the to-do list.” She’s taking on a huge big pile of ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybes,’ silently cursing the fact that she has both Queenly duties and a thousand questions that she doesn’t trust others to answer.
“In lieu of being able to get the fuck out of here, a show of immediate power like ‘saving’ -” she makes an air quote gesture, “- the people from the terrifying and devastating LongNight monsters would be effective. Because not only could I hold them back, but I could unleash them. Even if only for a week.” She shrugs. It was an idea, but she is always open for redirection and improvising.
The Voice need only say the word or drop a hint and it would be in the works.
"Perhaps," the Voice murmured of the mountains and the dragons. "Though why move so far? If we could bring the Longnight here for always, the Ascended would never have to fear the sun again." She shrugged, equally interested and happy to leave the idea where it was. "Oh, those feeble storms?" she repeated, obviously meaning the barrier that Wessex spoke of. "Let them rage - we do not need them. There are other ways to travel the world."
Wessex's idea in the meantime is a good one, though, and the smile that remains on the goddess's face is implication enough of her approval. "The monsters are beyond sense now," she said. "They use what they can, corporeal or otherwise. But certainly, if you would like to create a sanctuary for those who would embrace the bright ways of the Ascended, I would lend you my aid."
dont know where the lights are taking us but something in the night is dangerous
Soooooo Wessex needs some direction; she sees possibilities everywhere, endless opportunities and a network of interconnected actions. But her knowledge of the world and its possibilities are limited. Compared to the Voice’s perception, she is adrift. Brimming with potential, but in need of an anchor and a direction, because her ideas are, perhaps, larger than what is actually possible. Or what is outside of her Goddess’s immediate goals. Why leave, when taking over this precious area, this land that Vi, Rae, and Mort sought so desperately to protect, would wound them to the core? Why leave, when her family’s blood belongs here just as much as anyone else’s.
Other ways to travel the world.
This makes her brow furrow, her mind whirl. How? Everything her Lady has said so far makes sense, taps into dreams of being able to be forever powerful, instead of waxing and waning like the inconstant moon. And so, trying to fit in as many questions as possible, she does not hesitate to ask. “Other ways?” Any way, other than walking or running or riding would be appreciated. To fly like certain Attuned? Swim? Couldn’t they walk underwater forever, never needing to breathe?
“I want to do so many things. Too many, I think. I am impatient. How you could wait three hundred years, I wonder if I’ll ever know.” Right now, thirty-nine seems like an entire lifetime. Looking up at her Lady’s smile of approval, she nods once, decisively. “If there is something more important, please let me know. Otherwise - yes, I would like to pursue the monster idea.”
Wessex latches on to what she says, and the Voice's smile is dazzling, beatific, almost. "Other ways," she confirms with a nod. "All in time, my bright one. You and your siblings have done all that I might have wished and more to put these pieces into place. I ask only that you are ready when the time comes." Not Wessex exactly, for she knows she can trust the warrior Ascended to be armed tooth and nail for any challenge that might arise. The others, though, may need her guidance.
A tinkling laugh at the confession to impatience, and Wessex will feel a warmth fill her up, a sense of camaraderie, perhaps. "Time is a lesson," she says, "one that teaches you not to act unless you are sure. For now, my brightest spark, take advantage of your position. Teach the Hollowed Grounds that we are to be revered. Give them sanctuary against Longnight. Perhaps during that time, I may call on you to see what is to be seen with the creatures that roam the dark."
dont know where the lights are taking us but something in the night is dangerous
Of course she’ll be ready; Wessex is practically chomping at the bit to go and do something other than sit in meetings and direct others. She nods. “I’ll let the others know.” And speaking of the others… the Wraith smiles rather cheekily. “Rexanna is... very bright,” and a wonderful addition to the Voice’s children. The much better half of her bizarre partnership, if one were to ask. No one does, though, and that’s probably for the best.
But if she had to pick a partner for something, it would be Rex now.
“I thought I’d learned that lesson well, but I suppose there’s always more to learn,” she manages with a self-deprecating chuckle. Dying does that. But it doesn’t curb inherent traits - those must be carefully rewired. So she will take care of the people and be strong and play the part that needs to be played It is disappointing, in a way, but such is the price of service. “Before I go - is it possible to use someone’s power more than once after we drink? With a modification?”
Edrei still lives in her. She’d like to make that last as long as possible.
The Voice practically beams at the mention of Rexanna, nodding warmly. "That she is. A fine addition to our ranks." And her finest creation yet, as far as the goddess is concerned, though of course such things would not do to say in the presence of another of her children. Still, that it has been done once is enough - that means more may be possible. With a laugh to join with Wessex, she inclines her head once more in agreement. "Always more to learn. Never forget that particular lesson," she urges.
Falling quiet at the Ascended's final question, the Voice gives it some consideration. "Anything is possible," she said finally. "Perhaps, though quite how long is another matter. Still, similar things have been done. One of your siblings can now hold multiple powers at once, for instance."
