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!
Well. If ever there was a time for Loren to seek the guidance of the gods, this was probably it. Demi-gods everywhere, snake dead, portal operational, new hostile territory open, and a man walking around claiming to be the summoner’s long-lost twin. Formerly identical twin, with a new face. Not exactly a believable story, especially since he was supposedly Warden of Halo, or the Citadel, or some such nonsense. With a tacky-ass title to boot.
Whatever. All told, the summoner was feeling lost and angry; although he’d gotten over his heartbreak (mostly), he was no closer to figuring out the rest of his life. Frey probably wouldn’t want to hear any of that, but that was fine. Loren actually had questions for the god this time, and wasn’t going to just whine. It was why he’d come to the Temple instead of the Glade.
It was too early in the season for fresh fruit, so the Launceleyn just brought some honey. Placing it on the altar, he knelt. ”Frey. I know you have much to do for the advent of Flowerbirth and I know you have little love for me and my kind. However, I would speak with you, should you be so kind as to answer my plea.” Loren bowed his head and held his breath as he waited to see if the deity would answer, or just ignore him.
"Kindness doesn't have a thing to do with it, hon." Appearing like a burst of fresh spring air, the deity appeared with an easy laziness. There was none of Safrin's pomp nor Ludo's spoopiness; merely the fresh-scented aroma of rebirth and life wrapped up in a package that was impossibly alluring.
Reclined on their side upon the steps, Frey reached out a hand to move the honey closer. While maintaining eye contact with Loren, they reached two fingers in, swirled them around the golden liquid, before pulling them out and masterfully rotating their hand so that none of the honey would fall. Inserting their fingers slowly into their mouth up to the knuckle, they raised a brow towards the Launceleyn, before removing their hand with fingers completely clean.
As the fresh air, full of the scent of life and growing things, flowed into the room, Loren smiled. He raised his head to stare at the impossibly attractive figure of Frey, who looked more than a bit like Abasi. ”What does matter then?" All the summoner's tone conveyed was a genuine curiosity. Then, though, his eyes filled with more than a bit of heat as they fixated on the deity's incredibly sensual fingers. It was only when the god spoke that the spell was broken.
The Launceleyn shook his head and let out a little huff of laughter. "I did." Although he flashed another grin at Frey, his cheerfulness drained away quickly enough. "In Halo, I met someone who claimed to be my formerly identical twin. Do you know if this is true?" His voice was a mix of emotions: doubt, fear, hope, confusion, all swirling together.
"What do I look like to you? An oracle?" Frey replied with a lazy smile. Rolling onto their back they took another finger-full of honey and let it drizzle onto their tongue. "You want to know the meaning of life, go get high and figure it out yourself." Though Frey's voice was decidedly their own, it had taken on a bit of the Egyptian's cadence as they spoke.
Returning Loren's grin with one of their own, Frey nodded with genuine approval. Orgasms, when done right, really were a panacea for most things. And when they weren't, they usually allowed you to think more clearly about them.
"Don't know, don't care." The deity replied with a bored yawn.
At the god’s question, Loren’s mouth opened almost of its own volition. ”No you look hot.” Flushing, the summoner looked away and bit his lip. However, his gaze was drawn back by the sight of Frey’s finger drizzling honey onto their tongue. "I'll keep that in mind." His voice came out distractedly. As they grinned, though, the Launceleyn felt his whole body responding, turning towards it as if he was a plant turning towards the sun.
However, his shoulders slumped when Frey basically shrugged off the summoner's question. "Do you know if there is mage glass in Halo? Rae's daughter seemed convinced there was, but the leader of Halo denied it." Loren's fists clenched at the memory of that meeting. So he forced himself to take deep breath until he'd calmed down somewhat. Still, his brow furrowed with frustration and he could feel his heart pounding and anxiety spiking.
The deity was only ever vaguely aware of how others saw them. It was slightly interesting to know what turned each mortal on, what character traits they were drawn to, but for the most part Frey simply let the illusion be.
Turning to oh so slowly sit up, the god blinked at the summoner before rising. The muscles of their body glistened as if coated with oil, firelight flicking off of all the hills and valleys that their Abasi-adjacent physique currently had on display. "I know they say too much masturbation can make you go blind, but I think you've gone a bit deaf, hon." They said, coming to stand directly before Loren now. "I'm not here to answer your questions, Loren. You want to trade favours for knowledge? Go find Safrin. Stroking her ego will get you that."
At the tone in the Frey’s voice, Loren flinched. For a long moment, he was silent. Then he sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. ”I’m sorry.” His hands opened and closed helplessly, and he forced himself to still. Even then, an anxious finger tapped a beat against his thigh. "I...am worried about the future." Considering his voice came out almost completely filled with doubt and fear, worry was probably an understatement.
Opening his eyes, he gazed up at the god from his kneeling position. "I know that I will have to face my family. More of them than I expected, even." Biting his lip, he took another deep breath. "And I don't know that I'm ready for that. Or capable of coming through that and protecting myself and others from them. If I have to." The summoner looked away, expression nervous as he awaited Frey's judgment.
Yes, Loren was sorry about a lot of things, so the Frey’s comment caused him to bite his lip. Before he could answer, however, the god asked a question. The Launceleyn blinked, utterly confused by the inquiry. Still, he wasn’t so foolish as to ignore the divine being.
That meant he only hesitated for a heartbeat before responding. "Fight." It came out with a great deal of certainty, not that he actually felt that. Still, he forced himself to relax, to take deep breaths. All the while, he knelt, staring up at the deity with a mixture of hope and trepidation in his eyes.
Loren's answer brought a rather feral grin to the deity's face, transforming the soft Abasi-like lines into something powerful and dominant. "Good." They whispered, moving forward. "Then your first lesson? Stop apologizing."
Leaning forward one of their hands lowered towards Loren's groin. The barrier of his pants provided absolutely no resistance as Frey's fingers slipped through the material, cupping his balls firmly. Their hovered on the line between nausea-inducing pressure and something that might, under the right circumstances, be thought of as pleasurable. "Be what you are. If you fuck up, own it, but don't keep sniveling about it. Strength and protection requires conviction. Remember that."
Their fingers twisted, reaching up into his body now. The feeling would be indescribably strange as the deity twisted through and into Loren, all the while maintaining eye contact. Though it was the summoner's brain that ultimately caused the response, the deity triggered that weak-kneed spine-tingling feeling of wanting to run in the pit of the man's stomach.
All around were voices and faces from Loren's past. His many failures laid out before him; punishments, torture, his constant weaknesses. And all the while Frey tickled that gland that made the urge to urinate and run away somewhere dark and isolated grow, and grow and grow. With their free hand they tangled their fingers into Loren's hair so that he couldn't twist away from all that was spinning in bright detail around him.
Honestly, Loren didn’t mind the whole dominant Abasi look, as evidenced by the fact that his eyes were suddenly transfixed by Frey. Licking his lips, the Launceleyn nodded. ”I can do that.” He was shocked at how firmly his voice came out. It was nothing compared to how firm his cock grew at the god’s fingers reached through his pants to cup his balls; even though he hissed at the discomfort, his eyes grew half-lidded with pleasure. ”I will.”
Then, though, he gasped as the god’s hands somehow moved through him. As they did, his fear spiked, and his heart and breath both sped up. Images flickered before him, and voices echoed in his ears as his mouth grew dry and his palms sweaty. Gritting his teeth against the sensation, the Launceleyn found himself snarling against the onslaught. He’d faced worse than this, and so he reached deep down within himself, to the core of who he was, his magic, his willpower, his soul, calling upon the fortitude Frey demanded of him to fight and claw and struggle against this nearly overwhelming desire to flee.
He wouldn’t budge, even as he shuddered in their grip. Instead, he pushed against the feeling, tamped down on it, threw everything he was against it in a desperate attempt. As the god's fingers ran through Loren's hair, he growled, and refused to let his gaze slip away from Frey's (not that he had a choice). Instead, his eyes narrowed and he straightened his posture.
Frey breathed a sigh and all at once Loren's strength would deplete. The muscles of his legs would weaken and give out and even finding his breath would be hard. His magical reserves, near limitless as they were would now run dry. Mouth parched, head aching from exhaustion and weariness, the god's fingers pulled tighter into the Launceleyn's blonde hair. Around him voices from his past called to him: Colbrande, Zariah, Cyton.
Come on Loren. Give in and the pain will go away They sneered.
Cuts covered Loren's body with each word; all the scars once removed now branded back against his skin. And still Frey tugged and tickled at his senses, the urge to run and hide rising like a tower .
Even as the strength drained from his muscles and his body, even as his magic departed, even as the hand tightened into a fist in his hair, even as voices taunted him, even as the cuts appeared and blood ran down his skin, Loren refused to succumb. Though the urge to flee was nearly overwhelming and it was all he could do to keep himself upright, he kept his eyes trained on Frey’s.
They stayed there as his lips twisted into a grimace. From some deep reserve within him, he continued struggling against everything the god threw at him. "That the best you got?" His voice came out in the weakest of whispers, but he managed to speak.
He'd always been strong enough to get through everything the world sent his way. Eventually.
Frey grinned back at Loren. It wasn't easy to fake strength when someone quite literally had you by the balls. "Would you be one of us then? Attuned with the powers not of magic, but of who you are? What you have the potential to become? Abandoned as you are in this place, will you still choose strength?"
