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!
Amun had been asked to do a lot of really fucking weird and dangerous things by voices in his head that he hadn’t asked for and didn’t particularly want there. He was getting sick and tired of the gods of Caido jerking him around, and while maybe angry was not the best state of mind for him to be going into this, he missed his old land and was just pissed enough to do something reckless. Besides, his relationship with the moon god from his world hadn’t been so completely one-sided. So, while it was all well and good to order him about, and bring him here for unknown reasons, and transform him into an Ascended…
Okay, maybe it wasn’t all well and good. He strode into the Temple, his steps a bit heavier and more forceful than he realized, and stood before the altar. ”So. I don’t know if any of you are listening. But if you are, I’d love some answers about exactly what is going on around here.” Not his most eloquent, but hey, he wasn’t feeling in a humble or faithful mood. Besides, he felt he'd been a good little servant so far, given everything.
The Voice appeared on the pedestal with her legs crossed at the ankles, peering down at Amun. Her eyes were wide and filled with electrical energy, her form entirely holographic, but still firm. "Hello my bright one." She said in a voice that held far more authority than her youthful appearance might suggest.
Amun hadn’t actually been expecting anyone or anything to answer his call, especially given how rashly he’d phrased it. Indeed, he’d mostly been coming here to vent: Caido was so incredibly foreign to him, and this form was so much less than what he’d once been that he found himself struggling to maintain the easy manner that he’d had in his own life. Perhaps he should’ve abandoned it entirely, but he was adaptable and flexible, and usually able to find a way to fit in wherever he found himself.
However, a new world might be a bridge too far, even for him.
His eyes widened as a woman with eyes of lightning appeared before him. ”It’s you.” Although his voice came out in a breath, his whole body tightened with tension. While he didn’t know for certain, he had a sneaking suspicion that this being might be the one that brought him over to begin with. Still, best to confirm. ”Your bright one? Does that mean you’re The Voice I’ve heard so much about?” If she was, he wasn’t sure how he’d feel, or react about that. But he was afraid it might not be pretty.
"It is indeed." The Voice agreed with a bright laugh. Nodding an pushing a wisp of dark hair from her face, she leaned forward to study Amun with predatory eyes filled with interest.
"You were not long for your own world when I plucked you out. Here however, you can be great once again. Do you remember when it felt like, to lose all that you were? To feel human?" Reaching forward, she'd extend a hand with maternal praise, towards his cheek. "Now you can be so much more. So much brighter."
Turns out the gods of this world could be very, very infallible. And that thought terrified and angered him. Still, Amun filed that fact away for later; for now, he just crossed his arms against his chest as The Voice examined him more closely. He regarded her closely as well, and for once his playful and easy manner fell away, replaced by something older, deeper, truer. ”I wasn’t human.” Not even close, at least not for a long time.
”I was a fallen star. A creature of the cosmos that was plucked from the night sky and fell to earth. Well, water. A son of the moon, and devoted to its god.” His voice came out softly, but his eyes contained an intensity he hadn’t felt in quite a while, and a little bit of his true self shone through. And he meant that almost literally, though not as much as he once could have. ”I was immortal, though I could be killed, same as I am now. And while I looked like this during the day at night...well. At night I was beautiful and I shone as bright as the moon.”
As she reached forward, almost gently, he took a small step back. He wasn’t sure he wanted her touch, not until he’d said what he needed to say. ”So no, I don’t remember what it feels like to be human. But yes. I remember everything I lost when I came here. Everything.” And he didn’t think she had anything to offer that could compare to his old life.
"You were closer to being human than to what you started out as." The Voice replied with a light shrug. Listening with a childlike intensity, the goddess shook her head with quite bemusement as he went on. "Immortal? Like you are now? Unfortunately no. But you can be. In time. More than you ever were before." She added with an electric smile.
Watching him with all the patience of a mother who knows that their child's temper tantrum is merely from lack of sleep, she lets her hand slip back into her lip. "Well. We can agree that you are no more human now than you were then...but you are also less than when you were, beautiful as you are now."
Extending a hand again, this time with her wrist up, the Voice tilted her head endearingly to the side. "Come, Amun Arliun. Drink, and behold a glimpse of how bright you can truly be."
”Yes, I was human for some of the time, though, strictly speaking, I was always something more than that. I guess you’re right that I knew what it was like to be human. But the times I wasn’t more than made up for it.” Sure, Amun was being technical, but it was kind of an important point. However, as The Voice continued speaking, he could find himself relenting somewhat. Stiffness and pride and clinging to a losing battle wasn’t like him: he was like the water that had birthed and sustained him, going with the flow, moving around obstacles instead of standing against them. And while the goddess wasn’t an obstacle, his own feelings were.
So he let go of the resentment. He was here, and there was no going back, except maybe with The Voice’s help. While he wanted to ask what she meant by him not being immortal (since it seemed that Wessex’s information about the Ascended and The Voice might be a bit off), that seemed less important than the goddess’ words about being more than he once was, about being beautiful in this new form. And then she proffered her wrist.
Amun would try pretty much anything once. And this might be a once in a lifetime in a lifetime opportunity. So he stepped forward, hoping to take The Voice's wrist in gentle hands and sink his fangs into it. If it worked, he would drink as deeply as she'd let him.
Oh, deeply wouldn't begin to describe it. The Voice was a wellspring of power for her children, and though Amun would not feel the same sexual pleasure that normally accompanied his bites, this would instead be nirvana for his mind.
The world would spin and sparkle behind his closed eyelids. An entire continent raced below: oceans lapping at shorelines, towering cliffs and monoliths, cities made of stone and wood, castles in the clouds and beneath the sea. Moonlight on the water and stars upon the sand. Amun would see himself in these places too, larger than life and with powers he'd never before dreamed of. There was no need to shine like the moon, when he could be the moon. Be a sun.
In this place his body was a work of art; not that it hadn't been before, but with a different artist, different opportunities are available. Safrin believes herself master of the sky, but it could be you, Amun.
Amun’s eyes closed, but that didn’t matter, because he could still see; as soon as his fangs had touched whatever substance made up The Voice, he found himself transported and transfixed, cast into a virtual sky by a wave of what he could only describe as bliss and peace and oneness, but that’s just because he lacked the words to do it justice. He couldn’t tell what world it was that he was gazing upon. If it was Caido, it was parts of it he’d never seen or heard of. Then again, he supposed it didn’t matter.
As The Voice unveiled the endless possibilities before him, he turned his hungry thoughts and mind to her. ”How?” He wasn’t sure if he was actually speaking, given how he thought his mouth was still buried in the goddess’ wrist, but hopefully she’d understand all the same. And he burned with the need to know the answer to that question, more than anything he’d ever wanted before. While he couldn’t get back what he’d lost, maybe that was okay.
Maybe he could be better. Perfection. He was an artist, and he had just found out he was a blank canvas. Of course he was going to want to do something with it.
I have been trapped. For centuries I have waited and made perfect my designs. Soon the doors will open. Soon, my bright one, we will shine upon the world again.
Slowly the imagined vistas would fade and Amun would find himself pleasantly full, reinvigorated in both body and spirit, with the Voice's prismatic blue gaze beaming down at him. "Lands that will have never seen a star such as you that long for your light. We will find them, together, and you will reign over them, bright and glorious as any sun."
Well, that was a pretty speech, and these were pretty visions. Amun would be the first to admit that. And he’d be the first to admit that he was feeling invigorated after drinking from The Voice, stronger than he had in quite a while. However, he wasn’t so blinded by the goddess’ brilliance that he didn’t notice that one, she didn’t actually answer his question and two, her plans were a bit scant on the details. The potter had been a trader as well as a privateer once upon a time, and he knew when someone was trying to pull the wool over his eyes and when they were being dishonest about a deal. Maternal tone or not, he needed to be able to trust her. ”How?” He repeated his question, because he knew that he might actually get a satisfying response the second time around.
However, he couldn’t help but add a few more. ”What do you need from me?" Because he'd be told, without a shadow of a doubt, that he'd been brought here for a reason. And it better be a damn good one. "And if I pray here again, will you answer?” It seemed a bit exposed, not that he minded a bit of exposure. Still, she was a goddess, and probably had better things to do than answer the call of her ‘bright one.’
Rather than being put off by the potter's persistence, the Voice merely smiled.
"At first, exploration. I require...certain connections to be made. It won't be glamorous work, but it isn't terribly hard either." She replied with a shrug. "I will reveal more soon, but until then, I ask for patience, if trust is too much." With a light laugh, she said up straighter.
"I will always hear you, but answer? That depends. Unlike the gods of old I cannot bend time around me to be everywhere at once. But know if I don't answer your call, it is not out of ignorance or disregard for you. Though there are more places to call to me than here. The underground, the atheneum, the labyrinth. And soon? Oh so many more."
Well, now The Voice was talking. Or rather, she was speaking Amun’s language. He beamed at her, though it obviously couldn’t compare to her own lightning filled grins and eyes. ”I’d be happy to explore. Just say the world, and I’ll go where you send me. For now, though, I can be patient.” The potter wasn’t much of a fighter (though when he did, he fought dirty). However, exploration had been his stock and trade for most of his life. Just because he’d settled down didn’t mean he still didn’t hear the call in his blood.
Or well, fluid: that thought reminded him that he had a new lease on life here and he’d be a fool not to take this chance.
He filed away the information about where else he could speak to The Voice. Even if he didn’t know all the places she mentioned, he figured it would be best to find out on his own. That way he could show off his exploring chops. The sound of many more was as appealing to him as the mention of new lands, new connections. ”Understood, Sparky.” He was probably pushing his luck with the nickname, but he nicknamed everyone and he figured she’d feel left out if he didn’t give her one as well. It was a sign of affection, not one of disrespect.
Besides, he'd been a small piece of a god once upon a time, and he'd always hated being fawned over. While he didn't know if The Voice felt the same, he figured, given how she'd been trapped all that time, she probably needed friends as much as she needed obedient servants. And seeing as he'd never been particularly good at the latter, perhaps he should at least try to be the former.
"Lovely." She said with a delighted smile, offering her newest child an approving nod. The new nickname did draw a quizzical stare, but she banished it easily enough. Though she improved upon the bodies of her bright ones, their minds were what made them truly special, quirks and all.
Besides, she'd been called far worse over the centuries.
"When the time comes, you will know it." But because of broken timelines, it was impossible to say much more. "Until then, you will find things about this world...different from your last. Take note and be clever, just as you always have been."
