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!
Loren made a cloth to wipe his mouth on, and dipped it in the snow to dampen it. The shock of the cold against his lips was enough to chase away any lingering sexual desire, and to bring a sort of clarity to his mind. Rexanna’s question was a good one: he was still underweight, and it was entirely possible that some of his nausea was a result of losing blood he did not have to lose.
However, he knew that wasn’t the answer, not really, or at least not the whole answer. However, he needed to give the blue-eyed woman an answer, one that would allay the concern in her voice. Although he couldn’t see her eyes, considering his head was still hanging off the edge of the bridge, if he’d seen the worry there he would’ve shrank away from it. Or maybe he would’ve cried tears that froze on his cheeks.
Sighing, he pushed himself up and twisted into a sitting position, then drew his legs up to his chest and hugged them before resting his chin on his knees. ”F-fine. I’m, I’m fine.” Shaking his head, both because he knew he wasn’t fine, not even a little bit, and to answer her second question, he shut his eyes for a brief moment to gather his willpower. ”You didn’t take too much. That’s...that’s not why I…” He didn’t have the strength to say that’s not why her actions had made him vomit.
Unfortunately, Loren knew he owed Rexanna an explanation. He bit his lip, terrified of what she might think when she found out. Still, he had to tell her because having her feel bad about something that was not her fault would make him feel terrible. Besides, she deserved to know the truth about someone she thought was a friend. ”I...I don’t know how much you know about the Launceleyns.” Very, very few people outside the family knew these secrets, and he still instinctively shied away from revealing them. However, getting it out in the open made him feel better every time. ”But, well, we were under a magical oath never to disobey a royal order or harm someone with royal blood. Or rather a specific royal bloodline. It started at birth, and it only applied to those born with magic, so my family only married mages, in hopes of breeding more, and then sequestered its magical children in a locked compound to teach them...obedience. Total obedience. And strength, too, magical strength that is, though that was less important in some ways.” Loren hadn’t looked at her since he threw up, but he risked a glance now, curious to see how she was taking all this.
”And the way they enforced that obedience was through...force. Through torture.” He had to swallow at that word: even the memory of it caused remembered terror and shame to pass over him, caused him to hug himself all the tighter. ”I was weak, and not particularly good at following orders. At first. So they...they hurt me. With magic. Over and over and over again. But it...wasn’t always physical spells. My immediate family were all illusionists, so they...they would twist my mind and my emotions around until I didn’t know what was real and what was fake.” That had to be a unique kind of horror, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. ”So I guess...as the...as the pleasure came over me, and I knew it wasn’t something coming from me, not something I necessarily wanted or invited, it felt a little too close to that.” He closed his eyes, needing to shut out the world for a second. ”I’m sorry. His apology came out in a soft and broken whisper.
Now Rexanna knew the monsters he had come from, and the one he might turn into if he didn’t constantly monitor himself and always force himself to try to do the right thing. It was why selfishness was so dangerous for him, because he didn’t know where Loren stopped and the Launceleyn began.
He tells her he’s fine, but she’s not convinced in the slightest. Still, she keeps her own distance, watching as he turns back to her and wraps his arms around his legs tight, while she pulls her own underneath her, crossed and in the snow. She lets him take as long as he needs, fully expecting to not get a full answer (she wouldn’t blame him) but she nods when he says it wasn’t why. At least she has that going for her.
She folds her arms into her lap, eyes never leave him for fear something else may happen, when the snow begins to drift down over them again. As he begins the story, she looks at him with a small amount of sadness pooling into her gut. She knew nothing of the Launceleyns aside from the marriage arrangements and abandoned status. She didn’t know how bad it was. And while he begins to explain, she reaches for the parasol she had brought, opening it up and sliding over to sit beside him while still leaving space, holding it up between them to keep the snow from collecting and melting on him.
It doesn’t melt on her own person, so she’s less than caring about the piles of snow that begin to accumulate on her lap.
She nods when he mentions a magical oath, one she had thought she had taken with Zariah too, only nothing had come of it. It seemed he wasn’t so lucky. She bites her tongue to refrain from interrupting, listening as the coldness in her gut begins to expand, and she finally looks away when the words hit. Torture. Only a cowards way of getting what they wanted. And she, too, knew first hand what it was like. She can’t help but to grit her teeth against the use of it all, and how much more she wanted to take Zariah down. How much more she wanted to protect Peter from it all.
Her gaze finally slides over to him as he tells her he’s sorry, and she shakes her head to him, sending snowflakes scattering across her chest and lap. “Don’t be sorry.” She tells him equally soft. If anything, she should be the one that’s sorry for bringing back those memories. But she stifles the admission, instead wondering if he wanted to be touched, held, to have hands that soothed rather than destroyed. She could do that, she could protect all of her friends. And she would — a force to be reckoned with.
Her head tilts as she looks over to him. “What can I do to help?”
Rexanna didn’t leave, and Loren looked at her with a bit of sadness and shock and pleasant surprise all tossed together in a confusing mix. As she assured him that he didn’t have to apologize, he shook his head, and simply hugged himself tighter. The umbrella was a nice touch, and he would’ve thanked her under any other circumstances, but right now all he could do was muster up the energy not to run. ”Sorry. I...I can’t...I dunno. I can’t help but feel guilty for not...not warning you. Not thinking about...how I might, might react.” His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he wasn’t entirely sure why he was saying anything further, but he couldn’t help shake the feeling that he'd done something wrong here.
At the blue-eyed woman’s next question, the Launceleyn found himself shaking his head again. ”Nothing. I just...I’ll get over it. Figure it out. Eventually.” Hesitating, he glanced at her again, biting his lip. He’d assumed that she’d been talking his personal issues, but it was entirely possible she was thinking about the situation that had brought them up to begin with. ”Well. Actually...can you feel it? My magic? Can you...can you summon the Spark Bird?” He swallowed, hard, wondering suddenly what he would do if she failed.
He needed something to wipe the bad taste of his mouth, the one that came from more than his vomit, needed something to make this whole experience worthwhile.
He seems surprised that she stays, and all she can offer is a smile of understanding. How many times she had simply wanted to handle things with her thoughts with another’s presence, how many times she would have wanted the company even if no words were said. She wonders if he feels the same, wonders if the surprise of her remaining helps, if companionship is all that’s really needed — who won’t turn away when things get a small amount difficult. Besides, Rexanna is stubborn, and she knows it deep down that she is. It would take a lot, before the end of it all.
Instead, she looks out over the bridge as he speaks and stumbles, a small half smile crossing her face. “I get it. I did the same when Remi only partially shifted his wings.” She says, a side eyed glance toward the librarian. “My ex-husband had wings and it was… a jarring experience at first.” She admits, as if to show him that he’s not alone, that they all have demons they’d rather not share until the need arises. She doesn’t blame him.
She remains silent in a quiet agreement to his statement, before his question lifts in the still air between them. “I can feel your magic.” She tells him, assuredly, as if he was worried she hadn’t. Her gaze drifts toward the side of the bone bridge, a bit away from them in case, and she closes her eyes as she delves deep within the well of magic she knows isn’t her own (it’s a close distinction, but one nonetheless, one feels off in comparison) and she pulls her legs up beneath her again, leaning forward slightly over Loren without touching as she searches through his magic.
She can feel the summoning, the creating, and she latches on while the others fade away. Her eyes open and she looks to Loren with a light nod, a small smile, before she looks across him again and focuses on what the Spark Bird had looked like last year, channeling it and focusing it, until light began to dance in the soft sapphire hues of her eyes, lighting up the night sky and the abyss below. She remains focused, the ability is shaky at best with the magic she uses, but she can’t help the grin that spreads as she stares at the bird she’s summoned. It’s wings are spread, and it seems to stare straight at the two of them as it folds its wings onto its back.
Loren gave Rexanna a grateful smile when she told him she understood, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Although he wasn’t sure that he believed her, he still appreciated the gesture. However, when she mentioned that Remi’s shift reminded her of her ex-husband, the one she’d run from, the summoner’s breath caught in his throat. ”Oh. I see. I...I understand why that would’ve been tough for you. And I’m sorry to hear that.” Hopefully she’d accept that apology, even if it wasn’t strictly necessary.
When she said she could feel his magic, the Launceleyn breathed out a sigh of relief. At least that much had gone right tonight. And then the Spark Bird appeared, lighting up the night, and he felt the relief grow. Still, the awe he’d felt the first time he saw the majestic creature proved elusive tonight; whether it was the lingering coils of dread in his stomach or simply the fact that he’d already seen it, he couldn’t say. However, he forced himself to smile at Rexanna anyway. ”Alright, good. Can you give it commands?” Even if she couldn’t this was an objectively good development.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t find much joy in it, considering what he’d have to go through to make this work a second time. And every time after this. Still, he’d suffer through as much unwanted pleasure as he had to in order to keep people safe. ”I should tell everyone.” Remi, Wessex, whoever else he needed to. Hesitating, he turned to look at Rexanna. ”I don’t really know any of the Ascended besides Wessex. Actually, I don't know if there are any other Ascended, or, well, anything about the Ascended. Sorry, not important. Anyway, if you can think of anyone else who might be willing to help with this during LongNight, I’d appreciate it.” Despite his best efforts not to think too hard about what he was offering, he couldn’t keep a slight tremble of unease from coloring his words.
For the sake of ensuring Loren’s mental state, she doesn’t wave off his apology. Instead, she flashes him a small grateful smile and a nod, despite knowing he’d had nothing to do with it. And she moves on, to focus on summoning the Spark Bird – one creature that lights up the night sky and puts the moon to shame. She focuses on it, afraid she’ll lose connection if she does not, and she vaguely hears Loren’s question. Silently, she makes the Spark Bird’s wings open and flare again before dropping again, letting it pause before it lifts itself off the ground and circles the end of the bone bridge before landing again – sending sparks and embers in its wake.
She’s vaguely reminded of the phoenix, in a way.
The Spark Bird is gone in an instant as he mentions he should tell everyone, her focus lost on the taut string between her and it, and she regards him with her sapphire gaze, full of emotion and the tiniest gleam of sorrow. And she listens while he seems to stumble and stutter over his words, so she nods to ease it as much as she can for him. “There’s a few of us. I can tell the others if you want to tell Wessex.” She says softly, before she sits back into the snow again and shakes off the parasol of the snow it’s collecting.
“I think it’s possible if the Ascended have a magic stored within them, that someone can bite us and steal it from us.” She offers quietly, wondering which would be easier for him – to only have her bite him for it, or to have them all. After a moment, she tilts her head back to him. “I’ll do my best.” She adds softly, bringing up thoughts and memories as to who and what could help the fast approaching Longnight.
The Spark Bird took to the sky, so Loren assumed that Rexanna had figured out the trick of commanding it, not that there was much art to it. Still, it was good that his explanation had been sufficient; he was always surprised by how little people in the Hollowed Grounds seemed to know about his specific brand of magic. Then, it disappeared, and he glanced at the blue-eyed woman, wondering if it had been deliberate on her part or if she had somehow lost her focus or access to his energy. He decided not to say anything, since all the really mattered was that she knew how to bring it into the world. Control and expertise would come later.
Or maybe not, given how poorly he had reacted to this experiment. Unless and until he could manage not to fall apart every time someone bit him, he didn’t want to force Rexanna or anyone else to witness his weakness and shame. Maybe that was silly—and maybe he’d never get better without forcing himself to confront it—but it was how he felt at that moment. He was still not quite able to meet Rexanna’s eyes after how he’d acted.
Thankfully, he grew at least a little more confident now that they had something to do. ”I’ll tell Wessex. I have to meet with her anyway.” The queen wanted a progress report on his efforts fortifying the Manor. Unfortunately, Loren was pretty sure he only had bad news for her. However, as Rexanna explained that Ascended could take magic they’d taken from others, Loren frowned. It was a tempting offer: he’d only need to expose his wounds to one person, or a few people.
It wasn’t the right solution to their problem, though, so he shook his head. ”Thank you for suggesting it. Sadly, I doubt we should go with that plan. It’s a good idea, but I don’t think we can afford to rely on specific people being around just to spare my feelings. Besides I...I need to get past this.” Just because he didn’t know how didn’t make that any less true. ”But thank you.” He was touched that she’d try to protect him, although he knew that he didn’t deserve such kindness, even from someone who professed to be his friend.
Her eyes drift back to the summoner with a small amount of sadness, a small amount of regret for wanting to try it in the first place. But she reminds herself that she had given him the choice, and he had chosen to do it. Even if he didn’t know the strength of what would overcome him after. And for that, it was something. She gnaws on her lower lip as she listens to him, giving a quiet nod in understanding that he would speak to her newfound sister.
That left Bastien, Sam, and Lucas, as far as she knew. The first would be the easiest, if not a bit awkward. The last? Well, she hoped he’d do whatever she asked. She had threatened the devil’s life, after all. Either way, Loren’s voice breaks up the thoughts in her mind, and she nods to him slightly before she goes to stand. She understood what that meant, getting used to it. She had done it too, had managed through necessity rather than want which seemed like what he was doing too.
She stands and extends a hand for him to help lift himself from the ground should he want to start, though she wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. “Can I walk you back to the Manor?” She asks quietly hopeful that he’ll let her do that, to ensure he’ll be okay after it all. At least now they know.
As Rexanna extended a hand down to Loren, he looked at the dirty cloth he’d been clutching this whole time. Waving it vaguely to indicate why he wasn’t taking her up on her offer, so she wouldn't think he was avoiding her touch (which he was, just a little, though the last thing he wanted was to get his vomit on her, even if there were only traces on the rag), he uncoiled from his ball and scrambled to his feet on his own. When she then offered to escort the summoner back to the Manor, he hesitated, staring at her with slightly haunted eyes. For a moment, he almost said no, since he felt he needed some time alone after everything they’d covered, everything he’d been through and revealed. His mental scars felt fresh and raw as the first time he'd received his many many wounds.
However, that was one of his worst instincts, and he was trying to overcome those all, one at a time, inch by inch, step by excruciating step. He was a healer, so he knew how painful cures could be. Knowing that didn’t make them hurt any less at times. Sometimes it made the pain worse. So, hugging himself with his arms, he nodded gently. ”Sure. I’d like that.” He didn’t know if he was up for much more conversation tonight, since he already felt that he’d said too much.
But he wouldn’t mind the company, because for once he was afraid to be left alone with his own thoughts.
She doesn’t mind when he doesn’t take her hand, in fact as she watches him wave with the cloth he’d had, she understands for the most part and she gives him the space he needs. And she nods to him when he scrambles to his feet, staring at her with those shadowed, haunted blue eyes. One she’d seen herself bear before once or twice. Still, she doesn’t blame him. She understands, but she won’t take away from the feeling he’s experiencing. She’ll only try to help if he lets her.
So she asks to walk him home, and she’s half expecting a dismissal, especially as the silence drags on, and she shakes the parasol to rid it of the snow as she looks away from him in case he does say no. But to her surprise, he agrees, and her head lifts to look to him, uncertain if he wants to or not considering he’s hugging himself, but she can at least give him company in the form of the walk back, of her simply being there, even if they say nothing.
The Penumbra nods back to the summoner, a small smile on her lips. “Lead the way, then.” She says softly, able to fall into step beside him at whatever pace he sets to head to the manor and get him home so he can recover.
At Rexanna’s words Loren nodded and turned to lead them through the snow. He’d been intending to stay silent throughout the trek. However, the quiet stillness of the night started to get to him, and he still felt nervous energy coursing through him from earlier. So while he said nothing for a good long while, even the summoner knew he wasn’t going to be able to refrain from speaking entirely.
He cast about for something to talk about that wouldn’t be too difficult, but his mind kept circling back to the sensations from when she’d bitten him. Finally, he sighed. ”So. Did you...I mean do you feel similarly when you bite someone? To what the person being bitten feels, I mean?” It was probably a private—and certainly an awkward—question to ask her, but if he was going to be doing this on a regular basis, he figured he’d need all the information he could get.
Actually, he might as well use this opportunity to learn more about Rex’s kind in general. ”Honestly, I’m pretty ignorant about the Ascended.” The fact that he hadn't known they could borrow abilities probably had communicated that well enough. His statement wasn’t a question, but hopefully she would pick up on the fact that he wanted to learn more. Although it had been a secondary priority of his lately, curiosity had always been lurking somewhere in his mind.
She follows the way he leads, side by side in step with him as they begin to walk. The world around them is quiet, dampened by the snow that falls. It’s quieter, she finds, than it’s ever really been. And she’s thankful for the question he poises while they walk, and she holds the umbrella up between them to keep the snow from drifting in and melting on him in case it makes him colder. Glancing over to him as she contemplates the question, she gives him a small smile.
“For the most part, yes.” She shrugs lightly, as though it doesn’t mean anything. “It’s a bit different, having been bitten as an Abandoned versus being the Ascended doing the biting, but the feelings are similar.” She says as though she’s describing something rather boring and not the fact that they had just shared something rather intimate.
She’s thankful a second time when he mentions he doesn’t know anything about the Ascended, and she smiles at that. She didn’t know a whole lot either, and she’s happy to fill him in where she can. So she clears her throat as they walk, head drifting back toward the trail they blaze in the snow. “We can’t feel much, or taste. We’re very much there emotionally, but physically we’re completely different.” She explains at first, pausing before she goes in depth. “We don’t feel pain. We don’t bleed blood. We can’t feel hot or cold, really. It’s distant? Same with taste. We also don’t need to breathe.” She pauses, gnawing on her lip before she looks toward him.
“We don’t really get to experience pleasure in the way that everyone else does – but we can through the bite or other various means.” She thinks back to Lily’s room she had mentioned when they first met. “We can’t stay outside in the sunlight for long… Over time it gets easier but since I’m still so newly Ascended, if the sun touches me anywhere I feel like I’m on fire.” She admits quietly before she shrugs. “What other questions do you have?”
Loren stayed mostly silent during Rexanna’s explanation of Ascended and their abilities and limitations. It was good to just listen, for once; he definitely was still shaky from his experience earlier, and the act of just having a normal conversation (or what passed for normal around here) was steadying him. ”Other means?” He didn’t know why he asked about that beyond a certain morbid curiosity. At the very least, he felt it would get her talking longer. Besides, every piece of information he received might be useful.
When she finished, he went back over everything she’d mentioned. It pretty much tracked with the Ascended equivalents back in Northaven. However, he found that he did still have some questions. ”How fast are you?” He remembered seeing similar beings move faster than his eyes could track, and he was pretty good at monitoring threats. Not that she was a threat, per se. However, she was certainly a predator.
Then again, despite his unassuming exterior, so was he.
There was one other area that he felt he should ask her about. Lots of people had lots of opinions about the gods and the blighted, but the summoner hadn’t really been around for the onset of it, and he found that his mind was surprisingly open as to the origin and reasons behind it. And he didn’t like the divisions he could see forming in the Hollowed Grounds: they were dangerous, and he was trying his best to ease them. ”What can you tell me about The Voice?” Phoebe and Amalia and Remi and Jigano had given him bits and pieces, though they’d all been adamant that The Voice was purely, truly evil.
But Loren knew that almost nothing was really completely evil. Not really, not at heart. Things and people were often just acting according to their natures. The problem was that those natures were so often working at cross-purposes, and they were reconciled on far too few occasions, and that was what lead to tragedy and horror. He’d been through too much of both, and would do whatever he could to prevent more pain, except to himself. Because he knew he was worth less than so many others.
Regardless, he hadn’t spoken to an Ascended about The Voice, and he was curious to hear her opinions on the matter.
“Other means?” She nods to him in response, a sly smile crossing her face. “That room in the Settlement lets us feel everything again. But everywhere else is just… Nothing, really.” She says lightly with a shrug. But the next question he asks her gives her pause – she hasn’t really tried it, but she knows the comparison between her treks at night, and her attempts during the day under shaded skies.
“I’m faster at night.” She nods, glancing over to him with a smile. “Not like… Incredibly fast, I don’t think.” Another small shrug – she doesn’t know, hasn’t accurately compared it enough to know, to see how different it is. Perhaps on another day when the snow wasn’t deep in the streets, when her feet could actually catch on the gravel and rockery rather than the slick ice and snow.
Soon enough, he questions about the Voice, and her gaze drifts back toward him. For all things that people have said of the Voice, she had seen nothing of it. She had been nothing but gentle, kind, helpful – even when she Ascended and went back to Halyven, and the Voice’s voice had held an edge of something terrifying. But she wasn’t afraid, so to speak. She had only grown more determined, strong, sure of her decision to Ascend and forsake everything that had made her the way she was.
And she had come out different.
“I met her, sort of, for the first time when Lucas and I were in the Greatwood after Zariah placed the Greatwood ban in place. I didn’t know there was a ban, but guards appeared and were ready to take us to the jails. She appeared through Lucas, and while she could have said that Lucas was the only one with a quest from her in the Greatwood and let them take me off, she included me.” She says lightly at first, a hum, a memory, before she shrugs.
“And then I came to her when I wanted to Ascend, after Bastien had gone to ask if it was possible. We weren’t sure, I was the first to become both Ascended and something else. And she had been gentle and kind throughout it. I’ve never been afraid of her like I was of Frey. She’s never given me a reason to.” She shrugs again, eyes drifting back toward Loren with a slight smile. “But she had spent so long trapped in that tower, the barrier built to contain her and us I think from the rest of the world, by the Old Gods. It’s… Sad to think that you’d be stuck in a solitary tower for three hundred years. You do what you can, you become desperate.” She’s been there before – not for three hundred years, but trapped and confined in a place only to yourself.
You lose a part of yourself with each passing day. You’re never the same.
“I know they say that she’s terrible, but I’ve never felt that way. Even before I Ascended. She upgraded the Ascended's eyes when the barrier was still up, so they could see through it.”
