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!
Nephele, though tall for her race, had always had one thing to her advantage: she was fast.
Feverish and consumed with not only the gentle pull of Vi's guidance, but her own rabid desperation to save her home, her sister, her clan, she flies as straight and as fast as she can towards Mathair.
The Goddess was a closely kept secret, one they'd been dancing around telling the nosy Outlanders any time they came asking. But Nephele had known these woods like the back of her hand since her wings were still small and curled, flightless and as human as they could possibly get. Mathair was a secondary home, a mighty guardian, and she needs to plant the rose there. So she flies as fast as she can, until her spine aches hot in a way it hasn't since she first was building up her flight muscles. Her heart pounds in her ears, and her feet hit the ground hard and graceless as she arrives, breath puffing desperately from her throat.
Nephele wastes no time. This feels like an urgent mission, and she reaches for her spade once more, gently placing the other two roses in her bag, careful to curl them carefully. These were plants to guard with her life, no matter how useless she was in a fight. She should have asked Eriadne for more lessons, but there's no time to think of that now. Not with Vi's steady, guiding hand on her shoulder, giving her a way to hopefully cure her sister and give them both a chance to take each other up on that in the future. To have a future.
Even in her haste, Nephele can't bear to rip through the earth carelessly, not with Mathair so close and surely watching. She carefully digs her spade into the hard earth, using her hands to pull cold clods and rocks from the winter-hardened crust until there is enough room for the roots to spread out. Only then does she gently, oh so gently, place the rose in the earth and push the dirt over the roots.
Something holds her there, stuck fast to the earth, crouched over the rose like a defensive wolf mother. Sharp hazel eyes flit around the surrounding trees, lip twitching as if to snarl. Vi may be the god of Life, but she'd sooner meet Mort than let this plan fail. What did one life mean in the grand scheme of saving the land and its people?
09-01-2019, 02:27 PM (This post was last modified: 09-05-2019, 06:31 PM by Ianto.)
Ianto
"Oh."
Ianto sounded quietly surprised, but not exactly disappointed to see someone already at the mother tree. Of course, they had all heard a similar call upon grabbing up the roses, but he had not expected another to come straight to Mathair from the shrine. Then again, given that the girl kneeling before the tree was Fae, it wasn't so surprising.
The merchant's roses were in a small basket that he carried with him, dirt clinging to their roots and soil half filling the basket, too. He smiled at Nephele, approaching slowly as to try not to frighten her; she seemed wary, and perhaps for good reason. "Do you mind if I plant a rose here with you?" he asked, not inching closer just yet in case he was told to piss off.
Nephele, though on guard and waiting to defend her rose against anyone, still feels a jolt down her back all the way to the tips of her shivering wings when a soft 'oh' comes from the forest behind her. She turns on light feet, scarcely shoving off as her wings lift her from the earth. There is no refinement to her fighting skills, only a rabidness that would sooner see her dead than disappointing Vi. However, as her eyes scan over the handsome man stepping towards the tree that had been mother and shelter for the fae, she does not see any of the signs of sickness she had been studying so fervently.
He approaches slowly, posture not necessarily submissive but subdued. Respectful. Nephele hesitantly lowers herself back down to the ground and quietly takes in the man before her. He is incredibly tall, much taller than any other she has met, and part of her is awed by it. He has fierce brows but kind eyes, a sharp jaw and hair that reminds her of the young walnuts in their protective shells, copper glinting beneath the light. As he turns to speak to her, his bright blue eyes catch on her own hazel, and she inspects him further.
His sincerity wins her over, and she settles her wings against her back and steps closer to him. "Not at all," she says softly, perhaps a tad hesitantly. Still, it surprised her that it was not a lie, that it was capable of slipping off her tongue in the first place. Nephele still only had one positive experience with Outlanders, but it was enough to give Ianto the chance he wanted. "Do you need help?" is offered next, withdrawing her little bone-spade. She felt weirdly awkward, standing there and wanting to poke and prod at his kindness but unsure how to go about it. "My name is Nephele," she says instead, fishing for more information from the man even though this was a somewhat time-sensitive matter. Neph had already planted her own rose, at least. That should award her a few answered questions before she had to depart.
Halting some distance back from the great tree, Ianto had already taken note of the rose that the stranger had been fiercely defending, and he subconsciously relaxed a little more. So she had planted it successfully, then. "Thank you," he said, his accent lilting around the words, and he shot her a lopsided smile as he stepped forward again to drop to his knees a short ways away from where she had planted her own flower. "Hmm...? Oh - that's very kind of you, but I came prepared."
With a mischievous wink, Ianto partially shifted his fingernails into a fox's claws, burrowing easily through the frozen crust of the earth to the soil beneath. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Nephele. I'm Ianto." Glancing up from his task, his smile faltered a touch as he gazed around the surrounding trees. "Did you see something that worried you, before I came?" She had looked ready for a fight, after all. Shrugging it off mentally, he took one of the roses from the basket.
"How strange, that these can survive in the snow," he remarked.
His accent catches pleasantly at her ears, and she merely nods in acknowledgement of his thanks. Though she was protective over the rose, and perhaps more so of Mathair, she would not allow herself to be too bothered by his presence. Not when the rose in his own hands held such importance, such potential. Planting it near the Mother Tree had been a wordless instruction from the moment her hand had touched the stem of the rose she had planted, but it would have been one of her destinations regardless. Nephele feared to lose the tree that had been her home, her playground, her shrine. If Vi's strength could not sustain her, nothing would.
Ianto's wink and the transformation of his hands both take her by surprise, but it is a delighted sort. Her wings flutter and bring her closer, feet skimming across the snow as she stares in wonder at the masterful shifting powers he has. Fae - often the oldest, the wisest - had the power to transform. But so few displayed it, and they were not so tight-knit of a community that it was commonplace. "Wonderful," she murmurs pleasantly, unashamedly watching him go about digging a space for his rose. Hazel eyes flit upward as he introduces himself, and she smiles beatifically at being awarded the information she had wanted.
"Clearly the pleasure is mine," she laughs softly, gesturing towards the little display of his that had so enamoured her. Nephele watches over his efforts, the tension still tight in her shoulders. It draws a similarly themed question from him, and Nephele frowns at the empty horizon, distrusting. "The Blight and its carriers have destroyed everything I hold dear," she says, voice low and tensely controlled. "There were many traveling to the Shrine as I flew away, not all of them well-intentioned. I'd sooner die by their hand than let them destroy our chance at healing." There are no heroics to her words, a simplicity and acceptance of the idea of death ringing in her tone. Whether they followed or not, her suspicions would not ease until her task was complete.
Shaking her head slightly, fiery hair dancing around her, she refocuses on the last softly spoken comment from the handsome man. He's interesting enough to keep her where she is, though she can still feel the call in her blood to plant the remaining two roses. "Vi and Rae work in perfect tandem. He gives life, and she allows him reign when winter would sooner kill them," she says softly, kneeling beside Ianto and reaching one hand to delicately trace one of the petals with her finger, a warm smile on her face. Vi had her faith, her trust. She sends a quiet prayer that they succeed, that the Blight will be pushed from her beloved forest and that her sister would be healed.
He smiled as she moved closer, perfectly graceful on Fae wings with her toes skimming the snow. "You're not bad yourself," he quipped, laughing warmly and bowing his head in response to her compliment, given that his hands were a little full. Having made space for the rose, Ianto carefully deposited the flower into the hole, patting the freshly upturned earth around it to make sure its new home was a secure one.
Shifting his hands back and shaking them out, he wiped the soil onto his trousers and returned his attention to Nephele. It was strange, the sense of calm that seized him to know that one of his precious cargo was now safely where it ought to be. Like his new acquaintance, he felt the pull and tug to plant the other roses, but it would be rude to leave so quickly - and given the tension that still pinched at her delicate features, there seemed more to be said.
"Oh... the blighted are going to the shrine as well?" Blue eyes widening, Ianto gazed over his shoulder back into the woods. He tilted his head to the side, as if a fox's hearing might be able to catch any hostile footsteps. "You are a very brave individual, Nephele." Hearing nothing, he smiled back at her and let himself relax a bit. Ianto would more sooner run from a fight to save his skin, but he could fully appreciate the actions of those who stood up for their beliefs.
Gazing down at the roses side by side, he nodded his understanding. "I think we will succeed," he said. "Rather, the lady Arduinna believes we will. And I have no reason to think otherwise."
She tilts her fire-haloed head at him curiously as he compliments her. Neph can never be sure of the sincerity of these wingless people, whose tongues curl around lies as easily as a vixen does around her mewling kits. A fitting analogy for the foxman. But still she nods in acceptance of it, perhaps the shade of a flitting smile appearing on her face for him. "Thank you," she says, the weight of her sincerity, her own truthfulness, a crushing thing. No word, no sentence, no speech is ever spoken lightly for her kind. There is no escape from the honesty that binds them, and there is no need for a sly and guilded tongue here.
Not yet.
She is admittedly taken off guard by his immediate secondary compliment, cheeks flushing at the forthrightness this man seems to have no trouble wielding. He is...intriguing. Nephele drifts closer, under the pretense of viewing his freshly planted rose, but is more akin to a too-bold cub creeping closer to an unknown object. "From those I saw as I flew, yes. They are unmistakable in their taint." It is not spat the way she wants, because the maiden can't fault them for being victims, much like her own twin was. "Thank you. But there's no better time for bravery than now, don't you think? With Vi's help within our grasp." Surely he feels the same? Or perhaps he does not find comfort in the knowledge of Mort shepherding his soul into a realm of peace. Nephele is not afraid of death, clinical and scientific as she is. Perhaps it's easier to be brave that way.
Arduinna's name surprises her, though she knows her like a distant ghost. Her place had always been in the Village, if only for the collection of knowledge found there that she so desperately thirsted after. "Are you her...consort?" Nephele fumbles over her word choice, brow pinching in confusion. Surely Arduinna wouldn't take a ward that was of an adult age for his race. And Neph didn't think Arduinna had a religion of sorts for Ianto to be a follower of. So perhaps he was her bedfellow?
At least they both had good taste. Both were quite beautiful in her eyes.
"Arduinna is very wise. And Rae is a powerful deity. Nature is always reborn, even after fire, drought, and destruction. It's good to trust in her words," she speaks with a smile, warmer than previous. If Arduinna finds him to be trustworthy, enough to comfort him with her words, then he is surely worthy of her tentative interest. Friendship, if she were hopeful.
Having lived in the Greatwood since being unceremoniously dropped there just over a year ago, Ianto was accustomed to the weight of words for a Fae. So as Nephele gave her thanks, he dipped his head in a sincere nod. Arduinna had told him once that it was a blessing and a curse, being able to lie so openly, and that had stuck with Ianto even now. Still, he wrinkled his nose as she continued to speak of the blighted ones, leaning his elbows on his knees and frowning darkly down at the rose planted between them.
"I suppose you are right there. I'm not a brave man, but even I could feel the pull of this, from Vi and from Rae, too." For who would nourish the roses once that spark of life had been given? Who, indeed, could spread whatever latent magic hid within the blooms to cure the blight?
He had heard his relationship to Arduinna questioned multiple times in his travels, but no one had been quite so blunt in their remarks, and Ianto couldn't help but snort out a laugh. Holding up a hand as if to apologise for being impolite, he shook his head to Neph. "No no. I... well. She is my godmother, I suppose. I run the Wishing Wagon on her behalf." That was the easiest way to explain the pain and comfort that came along with the lady of the woods.
Straightening up at last, Ianto gazed off into the snowy, skeletal trees. "And trust in them I will. You ought to as well," he said. "Don't lose heart. We can fix this, all of us."
09-13-2019, 02:35 AM (This post was last modified: 09-13-2019, 02:36 AM by Nephele.)
NEPHELE
down in the forest we'll sing chorus
The man’s face folds upon itself, a convoluted mass of dark emotion pooling in the crevices of his features. She feels the distant desire to smooth it away, but she is an awkward soul, the only words she’s capable of sharing being those spun from years of tucking herself away into various books of literature and science. Eriadne had been the only one she had ever needed to commune with in any overtly emotional capacity, and her twin understood her with such ease that it had never mattered. So she is left awkwardly staring at Ianto, too unaware of decorum to avert her gaze.
“Bravery is the vice of the well-known, but it generally leads to a shortened life,” Nephele points out amusedly, unashamed to make fun of herself here if it means drawing the darkness from his face. Which causes her own consternation, because she certainly was intrigued by the other races, but she had never much cared for their state of minds. Perhaps because he follows Arduinna, or his simplistic kindness in their moment together planting the roses, it is enough to beholden her own fair treatment. Or perhaps she is just lonely, further sequestered away from her kin in her studies of the Blight, and she is weak to his camaraderie. “Cowardice is just another word for long-lived.”
Ianto’s short bark of laughter brings her own grin forth, erasing all awkwardness surrounding her blunt question. “Shame,” she teases, wings vibrating in little flickers of movement that transcribe her silenced giggles. “You’d certainly make a stunning pair.” But she’d not want to make him feel awkward at the imagery of union with someone he considers on the edge of family, so she says nothing of the sort. No matter her desire to sink her teeth into his embarrassment and shake him around until his cheeks go pink and his words splutter out. It's her own favorite form of torture.
As he stands, Nephele drifts backwards to give him room, her own eyes drawn to the horizon alongside his. “I always do,” she vows quietly, turning a small smile towards Ianto. “I won’t keep you. Thank you for the company, perhaps I will see you again at the Wishing
Wagon?” He had certainly caught her interest enough to warrant another meeting, especially if Arduinna had given him the green light so to speak. Lifting higher from the ground Neph gives a little wave, her other two roses still carefully tucked away. “Stay safe, little shifter.” And then she turns and flies off, following the path that pulls at her heart.
Tilting his head as she spoke of bravery and cowardice, Ianto couldn't help but find a smile flickering across his face. "When you say it like that it sounds much more virtuous to be a cowards," he remarked. "After all, one must be alive, to tell the stories of the brave, no?" And if they were busy dying, well, the rest could write their histories down. As adventures or cautionary tales, though - that was up to the reader.
The fox folded his arms across his chest, grin widening enough to flash gold from his teeth as Nephele considered his apparent coupling with Arduinna. "You flatter me," he said. "I imagine the lady of the woods could do much better than a vagabond like me, even if she weren't my godmother. I believe she would like you. Fiery haired - we ought to make a club," he remarked, relaxing despite himself. Easy conversation always calmed his nerves.
And with the blighted running around the Greatwood, they certainly had the right to be nervous. Speaking of which, they both had further roses to plant, and Ianto nodded a polite farewell to Nephele. "You most certainly will," he said. "I hope to see you there soon. Be safe, Neph - you can be brave and long-lived. I can see that in you."
Watching her off, Ianto scoffed good-naturedly at being termed 'little', though it was true - neither of his shifts was that large. So saying, man transformed into fox not a moment later, gathering the basket of roses up in his jaws before padding off into the forest.
