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!
"Fascinating." You reply immediately, lacking all the judgement one would likely expect from a demi-god on the subject of the Voice. "She displays a complex grasp on bio-mechanics and organic life. I believe that she is the logical conclusion of human-animal evolution."
You nod awkwardly at his thanks, very much wanting to look away especially as he looks at you again. Focusing on Astra, your fingers once again happily buried into her fur, you try to formulate an answer to his question. "I become part of the landscape when I stay still." This, he's likely noticed given that your legs and such have been mostly moss and earth for the entirety of the conversation. "I can...make people experience things. I can run tests and simulations without any real world consequences." Well that isn't strictly true. There are consequences, just not ones that you particularly care about. Emotional scars and wounds are not things you understand.
"Have they counted?" You reply, a brow slightly raised as you look briefly from Astra to Loren and then back again. "You have laughed 4 times in almost as many minutes. Statistically that seems like a lot, unless this is a non-standard interaction for you." Or its something to do with you, but given that you aren't funny, you doubt it.
"Magic that is god-level." You reply, seemingly not phased by the self-referential definition. "If the Voice was recaptured, I would think."
of course it's exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which wasn't meant to be reasonable.
Again, that was not at all what Loren had been expecting. Oia’i’o, at least, didn’t seem to harbor any ill will towards the new goddess. That didn’t mean everyone felt the same. However, the summoner felt only a few beings’ opinions mattered in this case. ”What do the old gods think of The Voice?” Their followers stridently opposed the new gods, but that didn’t mean the old gods themselves cared much one way or another. And mortal minds were prone to misinterpreting the divine. Plus, in both the Launceleyn’s encounters with Frey, the god of sex, love, and all things good hadn’t said anything about The Voice.
However, thinking too hard about the designs of the deities was always a fraught topic. It was much better to talk about the daughter of Rae’s abilities. Her natural camouflage made sense to Loren. The other talent she described, however, very much did not. ”What do you mean, you can make people experience things?” For the first time in this conversation—or at least in a while—he grew wary and his voice grew sharp, eyes searching Oia’i’o’s. It sounded a bit too close to what his family had put him through for comfort. Astra, sensing his distress, did her best to disentangle herself from the demi-god. Then the luxere would try to come settle next to the summoner.
”This is certainly not a standard interaction for me. And no, I doubt they have counted.” Indeed, while the Launceleyn had always been welcoming of newcomers (which Oia’i’o kind of was, if not to Caido, then to the Hollowed Grounds) and strangers, he was less open with those of his old world. He’d failed them, and despite his best efforts to mend those bridges, he’d burned them instead. Now, he was making new friends, but he didn’t see a way to ever recover the ones he’d lost through his own stupidity. He would still probably try, but he had no idea how.
It was much simpler to talk about abstract magics than his personal life. The tautology caused him to frown, though. ”What is an example of god-level magic?” She’d already gone over some abilities that were available to all deities and ones that were unique to each, but that didn’t give him a clear sense of where the differentiation between mortal (especially with demi-gods now in the mix) and immortal lay. His frown deepened at Oia’i’o’s comment about The Voice. ”You mean putting the barrier back up?” Unfortunately, he couldn’t help his hackles from rising at the suggestion. No one in the Hollowed Grounds, not even the most vocal and stringent opponents of the new gods, would countenance that. ”Is that the only way?” Surely not.
"To call them the old gods lends legitimacy to the Voice being a god." You point out. Whether she is or isn't, you haven't properly she decided. She possesses the type of god-level magic of which you're going to argue with Loren about shortly, but over and above that? You aren't sure.
You don't notice the sharpness in Loren's tone nor how his gaze changes. Perhaps had Kai been here and instructing you to do so, you might have, given how kind and charitable the Launceleyn had been with you thus far. The sudden change in demeanor was quite apparent given that, but all you notice is Astra pulling away. For a moment your eyes grow wide and child-like, obviously distressed at being deprived of the creature's touch. Quickly though the impassivity for which you are known takes root just as strongly as your magic does, and you nod. "It is like illusion magic, only much more concentrated. I can take your mind somewhere else. Make you experience and see things for instructional purposes." It was, in point of fact, everything the Launceleyns might have ever dreamed of.
"They should count if they are going to make judgments." You say, nearly frowning. What evidence would they use, then?
"What the Voice can do, for example." You say, again not noticing how the conversation was making Loren bristle. Instead you've started focusing on his adam's apple, watching it bob up and down as he spoke, liking the cadence of it. "No. She could be killed. Imprisoned on her own. Rendered magically inert." Your shoulders twitch slightly, as if you'd meant to shrug and then promptly stopped the action which is exactly what had happened.
of course it's exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which wasn't meant to be reasonable.
Alright, well, that was a semantic point if the Launceleyn ever heard one. However, semantics seemed important enough to Oia’i’o. So he simply nodded in acknowledgement rather than saying something dumb. ”What do Vi, Rae, and Mort think about The Voice?” There. Specific, and avoiding any mention of either old or new gods except for the ones the summoner actually cared about.
As the demi-god explained how her magic worked, Loren frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that, not one bit. ”I would appreciate it if you didn’t use that magic on me without my permission.” He really, really, REALLY didn’t like magics that messed with his mind; while he was coming to accept illusions, he didn’t think he’d ever be fully comfortable with other mental magics. Pulling Astra close, arms wrapped around her, he buried his chin in her full. For her part, the luxere snuggled as close to him as she could, sensing that she needed to banish the dark memories rising within him.
Maybe they should count, but the Launceleyn wouldn’t hold his breath: those who’d judged him as dour and too serious were mostly out of his life now. While he regretted that, and would seek opportunities to rectify the mistakes that led him to this point, he didn’t expect anyone to give him the benefit of the doubt. Nor would he rely on that. ”I didn’t use to laugh this much.” He gave the daughter of Rae a sheepish grin, earlier frustration forgotten now that he had his companion comforting him. ”But I think you’ll find that many people here rush to judgment without collecting evidence first.” It was just how humans were. In fact, Oia’i’o was an outlier in that regard.
Okay, so now The Voice was a god. Maybe not a new god, but a god. For a brief moment, Loren considered pushing the demi-god, but he figured he wasn’t going to get a straight answer from her on this no matter how he phrased it. Instead, he just focused on the rest of what she said. ”What could kill her? And what would happen to the Ascended if she was killed?” Killing a god, new or not, seemed fraught, and it didn’t sit well with him, especially because he wasn’t convinced she was as evil as everyone said she was. Still he had to ask.
The other suggestions were more welcome. ”What could imprison her without trapping others?” Presumably, if the old gods were capable of that, they’d have done that instead of erecting the barrier. ”What could render her magically inert” See earlier thought about erecting the barrier.
"I would not presume to speak on their behalf. Rae is fairly neutral about the entire enterprise, as they normally are. Vi dislikes that the Voice is encroaching on his terrain in the creation of new life. Mort abhors that she doesn't let the souls into his domain. When an ascended die, they return to her, not to him."
Now, you aren't good at lying. You should be, given that you offer almost no facial expressions to contradict what you're saying, but you simply don't understand the point of lying. Except in this case. In this case, you could see the benefit. Even so, you don't. "That might not always be possible." You reply and in a shocking bout of forethought, you tell him why before he asks. "Some of my experiments must be conducted without the subject knowing that the experiment has begun. Prior knowledge or consent can ruin the results."
You do frown at what he says next, opening to a different section in your book and making a note of this warning. You're not surprised to learn that the human-animals here aren't particularly studious, though you wouldn't have minded being surprised.
"I don't know." You reply. "I've never met her. All the reports I have of the ascended are three hundred and ten years old now." Much had likely changed between then and now, the Voice's initial creations having given way to more efficient and elegant iterations. Again, you shake your head. you're not even sure that what you've mentioned is possible, but that wasn't what he had asked.
of course it's exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which wasn't meant to be reasonable.
Noting Oia’i’o’s caveat about her not being a mouthpiece for the gods, Loren nevertheless listened to her explanation about the relationship between the old gods (well, some of them) and the new. ”One of the followers of Ludo was instructed to kill all the Ascended. Wouldn’t that prevent Mort from acquiring their souls?” It occurred to the Launceleyn that it might be worth bargaining for the souls, though he couldn’t imagine what they could possibly give in exchange. Nor did he think anyone would be willing to pay that cost.
Could try to find where they were stored and release them, though. Now there was a thought. For later.
It was good that the demi-god added her clarification, because the Launceleyn’s anxiety spiked. He managed to tug Astra closer, hold her tighter, until the luxere turned worried eyes towards him. That was enough to get him to take a few deep breaths. ”I have had traumatic experiences with mind magic in the past, which means I may react poorly at any attempt to use it on me. Thank you for the heads up, and I will do my best to let you explain the necessity of your actions.” He didn’t like how cavalierly Oia’i’o was approaching this, but he’d warned her that there might be repercussions to her experiments as well. Now they were hopefully both on the same page.
At the daughter of Rae’s admission that her knowledge was out of date, the summoner frowned. It was at that moment that he remembered he had third birds adoring him, and he dismissed them. ”The barrier has been down for a while now, though. Why didn’t the gods immediately send individuals to collect information on the Hollowed Grounds and The Voice?” The timing seemed odd to the Launceleyn, and if it was a sign of things to come, he wanted to know.
This is surprising and you're right to be skeptical (if only because things absolutely hadn't transgressed the way that the story had been told). "The herald commanded that?" Instantly you're writing again, albeit in an different section of your book. Rather than being distressed by this as you likely should be, instead you're fascinated and intrigued. "Obviously that did not happen. What did? How did this come about?"
Warned though you were, Loren's past trauma was not a reason for you to change your experiments. Friendship was not in your vocabulary, nor was the the sort of care and concern that a conversation of this length would normally have conferred from you to the summoner. "That is the point of having it be unknown to you. It is no surprise you reacted poorly when you knew it was coming, or that it wasn't real."
You watch the birds disappear with a frown. That Loren is still mostly unclothed has mostly slipped your mind, uninterested in the forms of human-animals as you are. "Because of the portals." You reply easily enough.
of course it's exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which wasn't meant to be reasonable.
The details were sketchy at best—and at least one of the relevant parties was dead—but they didn’t have to be for Loren’s purposes. ”I don’t know what the herald commanded. But that’s how Ludo’s follower interpreted it.” As Oia’i’o asked what actually happened, the summoner sighed. ”The follower let it be known what she was attempting. We sent forces to apprehend her, and after a chase she was captured. Then she disappeared from prison. Next I heard of her, she’d been killed by the LongNight monsters.” That was all the relevant information.
Apparently the demi-god was either mistaken about his concerns or he was mistaken about her magic. He thought back to how she’d described her ability. ”Would I not remember what you did to me after you uh, take my mind elsewhere?” That seemed to directly contradict her comment about it being unknown to him.
The conversation became confusing again after that. ”The only portal I really know of is the one that brings Outlanders to Caido. What portals are you talking about?” There’d been rumors of more (and he had his suspicions) but it sounded like there were indeed other portals. And somehow those prevented the old gods from getting information about the Hollowed Grounds.
You frown. "Are you including interpreted it to imply that there was in fact a discrepancy between what was said and what was understood? Or merely just to note the possibility." You don't care at all that she is dead now necessarily (though you do record this). Moreso your interest is in whether or not the herald actually made such a commandment.
"I could make it so that you don't. It depends on the nature of the experiment being conducted." You answer with the same sort of casualness that continues to suggest you're being unaware of his hesitation and clear signs of early distress.
"There are three currently online now." You explain. "The Spire, the Mathair, and the Fangs." Had the Grounders simply left well enough alone, your presence probably wouldn't have been needed here. But they brought down the barrier, and then they activated the third portal. So, here you are.
of course it's exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which wasn't meant to be reasonable.
Honestly, Oia’i’o’s question was a good one. Loren unfortunately didn’t have a good answer for her. ”I was not privy to the conversation between her and Ludo, nor did I speak to her about it. All this information was relayed to me through others. While it would not surprise me that she misinterpreted its words, I was merely raising the possibility.” That should hopefully be clear enough.
Alright, well, the demi-god was not exactly helping her case. Sighing, the summoner released Astra—who immediately went to the daughter of Rae, the traitor (he thought that affectionately)—and rubbed his temples. ”I’d rather know.” The thought of being subjected to only the gods knew what and not knowing was incredibly terrifying. Immediately the Launceleyn resolved to find some way to prevent his mind from being tampered with. Enough was enough: first his family, now this strange demi-god who seemed to think she had some right to waltz in here and declare her desires greater than his. Maybe she did, maybe she even had a divine right. But that didn’t make it right.
Of course, even that thought was driven from his mind at the mention of three portals. He suddenly had a very uneasy feeling he knew what Rexanna had been hinting at when it came to trouble on the horizon. And it was trouble with the fucking Fae, the people they were desperately not trying to piss off. ”What opened the portal in the Mathair? And what and where are the Fangs?” Hopefully the Mathair comment wasn't what he thought it was.
But he was very much afraid that it was bad news indeed.
You nod, and record this information. Kai has tried to explain about conversational implicatures to you, and while you don't really understand them (as with most things) you are indeed trying. It makes you wonder though, given Loren seems to be a fairly competition interlocutor at least insofar as human-animals are concerned, why he'd make this sort of error. Maybe he is like you in some ways. Or perhaps he's just sloppy. It's always a bit hard to tell.
Smiling as Astra returns to you, you immediately press your forehead against her shoulder, drowning yourself in the sensory overload of her. "Your preferences don't matter. It is up to me to decide." You reply casually still, breathing in the luxere's sweet wilderness scent.
"The Voice." You reply, and then, "A region in Halo."
of course it's exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which wasn't meant to be reasonable.
It was all Loren could do to not grind his teeth. His fists did clench and his nostrils flared as he felt his annoyance—and yes, his fear—spiking. Oia’i’o’s blase manner, and the way in which she continued to insist that it was okay to fuck with people’s heads wasn’t helping. However, he did his best to tamp down on his anger. Instead, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. Astra wriggled around and stared at him with worried eyes until he opened his own.
It took a while until he felt like he was in control. Only then did he trust himself to speak. ”My family used to torture me with mind magic. It sounds very close to what you’re describing with your own abilities. And your actions.” His voice came out flatly and his eyes were distant, as if he was speaking of someone else. Even now, the icy current of his anger coursed through him, though manageable (though a small chilliness had crept into his tone). "So hopefully you can understand how disturbing it is to hear that my preferences when it comes to my own mind don't matter." And if she didn't, well, she had more problems than he thought.
When she brought up The Voice, his fists clenched again. It was very hard to keep an open mind about her motivations when she kept doing shit like this. ”What did The Voice do to open a portal in the Mathair?” It was harder, now, to keep his voice steady and impartial, though he knew it was the best and possibly the only way to get information from the daughter of Rae. ”What is Halo?”
You’re too consumed with Astra to worry much about Loren’s sudden silence. However as she wriggles against you to turn and look back at him, you do look up. His eyes are closed and he seems like he might be meditating. This is something Kai does at times (poorly), and so you simply look away.
As he re-engages you look back, blue eyes wide and expression completely neutral, free of any sort of sympathy that he likely expects you to feel. Given what Kai has taught you and how different Loren’s face looks and how different his voice sounds, you identify that something has changed though you still aren’t entirely sure what. Human-animals experience upset for any number of reasons, almost all of which do in fact surprise you. “I do not really understand, no.” You admit, though such admissions are easy for you. “The motivation seems to be what is principly different. It would never be my aim to torture, even were you to experience the same discomfort.”
You give him an odd look for a moment before shaking your head. “I don’t know.” She used magic, presumably. But you weren’t here then. “A region to the west.”
Now it was time for a question of your own. “Are you using me?” There is no judgement or hostility in your tone (there’s almost nothing in your tone, really). But it’s the only conclusion you can draw from this. Loren seems unhappy with you, though you don’t understand why. That he keeps talking to you makes you think he is gaining something, and since he’s not told you what it is he is continuing the conversation for, you think it’s because he’s using you. For information, most likely given the flow of his questions.
of course it's exhausting, having to reason all the time in a universe which wasn't meant to be reasonable.
”Motivation doesn’t always matter.” The response came swiftly and without a single iota of doubt in it. ”If you burn me and break my bones, with magic or through more mundane means, I don’t care if you’re doing it for your experiments, or because you think it’ll make me stronger, or because you profess to love me.” The icy anger was back now, and his eyes had grown hard. ”It’s still torture.” Torture in the name of science was still torture.
Again, Loren was reminded that for all the demi-god’s knowledge, she wasn’t all-knowing and she had surprising gaps. Apparently he’d have to find out what happened at the Mathair from another source. ”What is that region like?” Knowing it was a region and that it lay somewhere to the west didn’t really tell him much.
At her question, though, he bit his lip, then nodded. ”Yes.” She’d been honest with him so he figured he’d give her the same courtesy. ”You have more information about this world, about Caido, about the gods, than anyone I’ve ever met before. I would be a fool not to learn what I can from you. However, I feel that others would benefit from your teachings as well, which is why I asked if you’d be willing to join the school I’m hoping to start.” She hadn’t said yes—too worried about how people would react to her, which the Launceleyn thought was a silly concern—but he still had his hopes. ”But you’re using me too.” Turnabout's fair play, as they said.
