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!
"How many would you need?" Amalia asks, hoping for simplicity's sake it's only one. "I can get them for you." Turning at the hand upon her shoulder, the Shield is surprised to find herself nearly touching the goddess, the celestial scent of her filling the girl's senses.
Obedient, the baker too tucks her legs beneath her, her hands upon bent knees as Jyoti settles into her lap. Closing her eyes, she begins to breathe deeply as the world around them fades away, replaced by soft colors and soothing aromas. "It's beautiful," she breathes, a peaceful smile on her face.
Safrin's voice changes slightly as she leads this guided meditation. Unlike Deimos, who the deity dropped from an impossible height to sink or swim (or fly, as was the case), Amalia needed a different experience to draw out her true strength and potential. "Concentrate on where your animal-souls reside. Where they linger when not in use." For everyone it was different; some saw a well, a garden, a field of lights. "Find them and sit among them, but do not shift. Merely be."
Eyes closed, Amalia attempts to fall into herself, looking for the place from whence she draws her animal shifts and finding only darkness behind her eyes. Except, there- a light, and a sound (a feeling?). She can almost see it: an infinite sea of glittering stars, warm and welcoming as it spreads through her grandmother's garden. A place of safety, and comfort, and strength, where the best parts of her live in the memory of the best women she's known.
The leopard is the easiest one to access, leaping immediately to the girl. Amalia feels the fur try to rise up on her neck; with great restraint she resists the shift, instead turning her attention to the next. The owl, more careful, watches from a branch; the otter, least familiar, swims among the stars.
But there is something else, something strangely familiar, larger and more than all the others. It smells of lilac and petrichor, tastes like a pre-dawn sky in winter, feels like goodness, magic and strength. What is that? Amalia wonders, her mental voice filling the infinite space as she takes a careful step toward the something. Is that... me?
"Go and see." Safrin encourages from somewhere suddenly far, far away. She is with Amalia in this, but there is a distance between them as well. A space for privacy and exploration. The goddess knows of course what it is that lingers in the girls' soul—what has been slowly growing and taking form, nurtured with dreams and love and passion—but she will let Amalia explore it for herself.
The distant encouragement spurrs the Shield on despite her anxieties, despite the feeling that there is no way this could possibly be her. It is too beautiful, too vast, the depth of a soul and the sigh of a storm, firelit and buoyant, light and alive. And yet it is here, so it must be the girl.
The girl as she always wished to be.
And as she touches it with tentative fingers the feeling - the figure - springs to life. Large but not looming, strong but not frightening, wreathed in fire without any risk of burn. Black eyes meet black eyes as the qilin lowers its graceful head, long ears flicking in curiosity and acceptance, a breath of warmth exhaled. It is Amalia's breath; the creature presses against her forehead and at once the pair is one and the same, the baker slipping into this form as easily as any of her other skins. "Oh," she breathes in wonder, in happiness, in quiet comfort and disbelief. "Oh. This is me."
"It always has been." Safrin says, her voice now everywhere; echoing from inside the fragile walls of Amalia's mind.
This creature, this shift of strength and grace, with the tenderness to walk upon the clouds to keep sacred the life below but with the tenacity to burn bright with righteous fire, is everything that the onyx-eyed woman has ever been, hidden away inside of herself.
Though now, face to face with her true nature, the hidden part of her soul revealed, hopefully she will cease to doubt her place as Shield. As beloved. As Attuned.
Opening large, infinite eyes, Amalia exhales her first breath as the qilin, her mind for once at peace.
The she catches sight of herself and releases a sound of surprised delight, something between the sound of rain and a summer gale leaving her lips. Spinning rapidly, she attempts to take stock of her new form as Jyoti chases behind her long tail, cooing her amusement with the turn of events. There are clouds of mist beneath her cloven hooves, and... is that fire coming off her shoulders?
"Oh, Safrin!" Amalia cries, a child awash in the joy of delight as something hot fills up her soul. Is it... pride? Confidence? A sense of place? Of belonging somewhere, of being enough?
Stopping her prancing, the girl turns back to the goddess with a sudden fervor, body awash in the flame of early dawn. Pulling her right leg down beneath her, the qilin bows her head to the being, dark eyes falling closed. "Thank you, Safrin. It is my honor to serve you. To be your Shield. If... if you will have me."
Safrin merely watches this display of unfettered joy, pleased beyond measure to see Amalia fitting so easily into the skin she was always made to wear.
With a silvery smile, the goddess reaches her hands forward to softly stroke the perriwinkle peach-fuzz on Amalia's jawline. "Never kneel to me, Amalia." She says, softly encouraging the qilin to rise. With a cosmic adoration bright in her dark gaze, the goddess looks proudly on at her ambassador, the first of her name in this place. "Always." She breathes, and as she does so, the waking meditation slowly dissolves around them, leaving Amalia seated as she was with Safrin's fingers softly curled around her angular cheekbones.
The qilin fades away and the girl is left, smaller, slighter, but bolder now, invigorated with the discovery of strength hidden in herself. As Safrin's hands ghost over her cheek the girl smiles and closes her eyes, tears falling from beneath her lashes, a peaceful smile on her coral lips. She wants to lean her head on Safrin's shoulder, to hold and be held by the being who has allowed her to find a place in the world.
She wants to be a shield, a protector, a defender of all life.
"I know that I promised to help Remi fulfil Ludo's task over LongNight, but... is there anything I can do for you?"
Indeed the goddess pulls the baker to her, arms wrapping around her with a tight maternal warmth just as Amalia's grandmother might once have done. Scowling slightly to hear that Ludo has been setting tasks during LongNight, the goddess frowns and thinks to herself, feeling immediately competitive. It is true that there is little the deities can actually do during the week, but that Ludo has beaten her to the punch is bothersome.
"Well, light isn't really an option." Safrin muses with a frown. She'd give Amalia stars to hang on every window, but that would only draw the attention of the creatures. Really, LongNight was the antithesis of all that Safrin was. Ludo had its challenges with the souls, but Safrin? Not so much. "What is it you think I might need?" She asks, genuinely curious.
Resting her head on Safrin's shoulder, Amalia sighs contentedly, endlessly bewildered by the goddess' affection but no longer resisting it, hiding from the light. She is right, of course, light isn't an option, and truth be told Amalia does not know what Safrin will need during the dark week. Protection for those who are helpless, perhaps, a way to stand against the monsters that plague the innocent for no apparent reason.
A shield.
There is only one reliable way to stop the monsters that Amalia knows of. "Is there a way to call the Spark Bird, like last year?" They have built a perch, but she cannot say if that will be enough. "Or something to protect against the monsters... so that if we do find anyone locked outside, we'll be able to keep them safe." She thinks again of her missing shield, wincing at its absence. She would have liked to ask Safrin to add an enchantment to it, perhaps a way to deflect the beasts.
"That bird has a wounded soul. I am surprised it hasn't fled with the barrier down. This isn't its natural environment, not with everything so flammable. It lives in places of stone and ice usually." Safrin says with a sigh. "I see a perch has been built...were offerings left? That is really all that has worked in the past." As for protection from the monsters? "I will see what my fish can do." The goddess says, shaking her head.
and now we bend time a bit and no one talks about it " My library, the one you nearly stumbled on before. There are a number of important books within, though they can be...difficult, to say the least. These are more than sentient books, they are gatekeepers, teachers in their own right, and protectors. Truly they belong in the Undercroft with the fae. Perhaps you could arrange for some of them to help you in transporting them. Or do it on your own, if you can figure out how. But I would like to see them back in a place where they can be appreciated, rather than buried beneath the rock."
"Oh," she says softly, dropping her head. It hadn't occurred to her before that the bird, too, is trapped, but of course it makes perfect sense. As for offerings, Amalia is not sure. She has left her own collection of breads and small figures, but did not help with the building of the perch this year.
The mention of the library makes Amalia perk up totally ignoring the way this thoroughly fucks all timelines. That the books belong in the Undercroft makes a perfect amount of sense. "Will they know how to move them?" she asks, tilting her head curiously. Of course she will complete this task: there is no moment of hesitation in the girl's mind. She had asked what she could do and had meant to keep that promise, though it would have to wait until after LongNight. "Do you have any advice on how to navigate the library? And whatever is within?"
Pulling away a little bit, Amalia raises her hand to the necklace around her neck, a sudden desire gripping her and making her blush at the silliness of it. "Safrin," the baker murmurs softly, fiddling with the crystal vessel that sits in the middle of the chain of silver stars, "May I... may I ask you for a gift?"
"Some will. You could ask Delah." Safrin grins at this, knowing just how easy going the warchieftess isn't. "The tunnel is likely unstable.." The goddess muses, offering some other bits of advice but not in any detail since all of this has happened and Amalia would have done things differently.
Raising a brow, her galactic gaze lowering towards the charm-necklace, the goddess tuts softly, but affectionately. "Normally you don't ask for gifts, darling-one. But then again, you're not normal. Go on then, what would you ask of me?"
