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!
12-04-2018, 02:13 AM (This post was last modified: 12-16-2018, 05:24 AM by Rexanna.)
Rexanna had been to few places here in the short time she’d been here. So of course it was ideal for her to explore, and with it to figure out where the safe places were to be and where not to be. Easily on the list of safe places thus far were mostly the Sanctuary, and most certainly the Tavern. Places she had decided not to go again unless necessary was that beautiful glade where the shrine had appeared. She figured the only time she’d return to that place was to yell at the only god she’d ever met – if only for trying to figure out how Remi could fix it. She doubted yelling at the god would get them to be more inclined to help her, but she was still mostly pissed off about the entire exchange, thinking all they’d have to do was enjoy a good time in return for questions answered.
She had thought wrong, and it had cost Remi regardless if he harbored no hard feelings toward her. She was her own worst enemy for it. Either way, she had decided that she’d continue exploring and deal with the consequences (if there decided to be more) and found herself in the fields. There was no one and nothing that had told her that this place was unsafe, and as far as she was concerned it looked absolutely lush with the ground and sprouting grasses and the animals that she had spotted roaming the distance.
So this was where she had decided to explore, to see what kind of things might happen to her this time around. And if nothing did, well, that was perfect for her.
Muted. That's how Alistair would best describe his mind. Silent, absent...it needed to change, and so he took upon himself to keep himself occupied.
So he sat, quietly. Unaware of another's presence as he held a pad over his lap, a thin carved charcoal tip sketching along it.
It was of nothing in particular, more a landscape of the fields laid out before him. It's horizon and faint shadows that cut through the layers of swaying grass.
It felt peaceful, productive, to feed his mind with something other than trouble thoughts of love and loss. For once, he felt like himself, a rare treat to say the least.
"The human spirit needs places where nature has not been rearranged. The poetry of life is never dead...I was told that once before and never understood what that meant until now..."
Alistair spoke to Rexanna having heard her steps disturbing the stillness that once surrounded him. Though he kept sketching and his eyes on the pad resting on his lap.
He would pause only briefly to turn and regard her. "Alistair...sorry, have a habit of waxing poetic over the littlest things."
She hadn’t noticed anyone sitting when she had set out – but then again, she hadn’t been looking for anyone else. All she could see was the wide expanse of earth and the world in front of her, and she couldn’t help but to be drawn to it. Caged for too long, hidden for too long, she longed for wide-open spaces. She was, however, surprised when she heard a voice begin to speak, rough and unlike anyone she had met yet. Her head turned toward the sound to spot a man, sitting and what looked to her as a sketch pad in his lap that he was dutifully working with. Her sapphire gaze watched him for a brief moment, uncertain of what to say before he turned to her.
There was something about his words that intrigued her, and she found herself smiling in greeting to him as he offered his name and an explanation for his previous words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was here.” She offered in her own kind of apology. When she was closer, she remained standing in the grass, close to him as acquaintances often were as she glanced to the sketch pad. “I’m Rexanna. A new arrival, I suppose.” She admitted with a half hearted laugh before looking to the expansive land around them.
“You’re quite good.” The girl finally said as she looked back to him, her eyes darting toward the sketchpad again. “Are you from here?” She questioned with a tilt of her head, her hands unconsciously folding together behind her back as she had done during her years of servitude.
"Not your fault." Alistair excused, keeping his attention on the sketch. "Quite expansive here, odds of finding a seated man sketching a landscape were slightly in your favor..." though he spoke in a rather smokey rasp, which masked his jest, his faint stubbled grin betrayed him.
As Rexanna introduced herself he paused again and looked up toward her. "Seems we're all stuck in this purgatory of sorts, though some have managed to make the best of i..."
His words froze a moment as his eyes appeared to focus as he really just took in the young woman's appearance for the first time, not just giving a faint glance.
His face turning beet red as he cleared his throat. Thankfully her compliment adjusted his focus. "I uh...thank you. I haven't had much time to focus on much of anything since arriving...It's been um..." her eyes weren't wavering and he found himself being more the fool as crimson consumed him.
"Drawing from reality...tends to put things in perspective. You um..." fingers scratched the back of his neck as he finally focused on the pad.
"You learn to accept things as they are. Learn the beauty of imperfection..."
The world was imperfect no matter how much you tried to save it...harsh lesson Alistair was forced to learn.
His attention remained on the sketch for a time being, as he continued to speak. She offered a slight laugh in response to it, nodding along with him despite the fact he probably didn’t see it. “That’s true.” She offered in her accented voice, her eyes leaving the page sprawled out and focusing on him, noticing the stubbled jaw line and watching while he answered her, talking of purgatory. Her dark brows raised briefly but she agreed all the same. It was an odd place, to have fallen into. Where for Alistair it might have been a terrible place, so far despite what Rexanna had seen, it was pretty close to a miracle.
She noticed when his words began to falter, and his cheeks began to tinge. He continued to speak and she couldn’t help but smile more as he seemed to stammer over his words. She nodded to him, taking her gaze from him in the hopes he might not be as red the next time she looked to him. “That’s very true.” She announced, finding a spot in the grass beside him to sit and look out over the expansive field before them. “I never really spent much time with artists. Back where I’m from I mostly took care of others.” She said softy. “I worked in a castle, though, and saw a lot of finery and paintings there. I loved to look at them, but I never had the time to try my hand at it.” She mostly rambled, thinking aloud as she looked back to Alistair.
“The gold ones were my favorite.” She said with a laugh that crinkled up her nose. Gold had always been her favorite color, and it always would be. During her months on the run and her escape, she had lost the ability to enjoy any kind of finery, but oh how she loved it. When she was a peasant girl, turned royalty, turned into a bride, she had mostly found herself in love with the clothing and rooms she found herself in. Here, however, she was practically back to square one, poor. Only this time, she had a vengeful ex-husband who was no doubt still searching for her. She took solace in the idea that he might never find her here, and she looked back to the field around them as if she could see him searching every city in the world back home only to come up empty. How he would roar to the heavens when she wouldn't ever be found.
Alistair placed the charcoal and pad down and leaned back on his hands when Rexanna spoke. As she spoke of her affinity for gold he smirked. "I never knew my family. I was left at the doorstep, discarded. Never really learned to appreciate much of anything really.
When your own family doesn't want you, it's difficult to grow up with such values as appreciating what you have...spent the better portion of my youth in gutters and rooftops.
Kicked at, spit on...than someone found me, gave me a life...He was wise and generous..." He reflected with a faint smile.
"He insisted I strive for more. Saw I knew my way around the arts. Painting, literature...lost myself in countless works."
He was rambling, and this time he was smart enough to catch himself. "Have you adjusted? To the freedom that came with arriving here? Or is there always a lingering need to please or serve. Putting others ahead of yourself."
He began to speak again and she found herself looking over to him, interested though her brows furrowed together slightly. While her own mother and father had been slain a few days after her birth, she at least had a loving family to grow up in. At least until the truth was revealed, where Rexanna would be shipped away to a foreign land, engaged to a foreign kingdom, unknowing of her true birth. The truth always had a way of coming to light, however, and she nodded along with him as he spoke. “Sounds like a wonderful person.” She offered as a response.
Then, as his question shifted toward her about how she was adjusting, and she rolled her shoulders slightly. He asked if the need to put others ahead of herself, and she felt the gut twist of her encounter with Remi and Frey and half heartedly laughed. “It’s always a part of me, but years hiding from the law makes it harder to care for anything other than yourself.” She admitted to him, flashing him a grin before clearing her throat to speak again. “Here, however, I haven’t met a lot of others yet. I’m still trying to learn about the world and how it picks those that come. I did find an old friend at least.” Her voice was soft and thoughtful as she reminisced about Deimos and their time in that odd alternate universe she could recall – like pulling fabric from the reality she had been to.
It was like a dream, and yet not. And she found herself wondering if the other version of her could see what was happening to her here. “I also encountered a god of sorts? We never had them back home so it was an interesting experience to say the least.” She muttered before looking back to Alistair with a tilt of her head. “Have you been here long? I have all these questions about this land and I’m not even sure where to start.” She added with a bright smile.
"Long? No..." Alistair replied, turning his eyes forward with a shake of his head. "No longer than you perhaps." He continued, fingers aimlessly picking the grass as she spoke of speaking to gods, running from the law, and connecting with an old friend.
"Familiarity is scarce, suppose we should embrace it when it comes...I'm glad you've found such a connection. It's bad enough waking in a new world with no memory how you've gotten here, I'd imagine tougher so, arriving with no connection to your past life. Though I imagine for some, that's a welcome change."
Gods knew Alistair probably felt a twinge of envy for those who arrived with nothing tying them to their past.
"I'm not one to believe in gods...the thought of some entity other than myself, dictating my life is..." He thought a moment about his choice of words, his dark brows lifting. "Oppressive...I'd like to believe the life we live, the people we become at the end, was shaped by our own free will. Our decisions and its rewards and consequences and all that come with it. Though if you spoke to a god...suppose that leaves it into question. Seeing is believing right?" He asked with a faint smirk.
"So what were you running from? You don't strike me as some bandit on the loose sort...and I've known my fair share. I was one once upon a time...stole a bag of coin from a taxer, just as he was relieving himself. There he was ascending ladders and chasing me along rooftops, without pants...in all his flappy glory...needless to say the guard was not thrilled about the exposure...it was a laugh, what can i say?" He chuckled...and almost immediately ceased, as if almost embarrassed with himself having done so. Clearly now wasn't supposed to be a time to laugh...he was supposed to be wallowing in self-pity...he looked to Rexanna however, and chuckled again, thinking better of himself.
He shifted slightly to face her, his pad again placed onto his lap as he took up the charcoal. "Would you mind?" Alistair asked, making a phantom sketching motion to cue her in on what he wanted.
He shook his head and answered her question poised at him. He hadn’t been here long, but in comparison she was certain he’d been here longer than she. And she nodded as he picked at the grass and continued to speak. She offered him a smile and agreed. “Most certainly welcome for me.” She admitted, her smile faltering slightly at the thought. But he continued to speak, answering her about her information on the gods. “Where I’m from it was very similar. Here, however, seeing is believing. I don’t believe they’re the only one either. A man I was with spoke of another.” She mentioned, eyes roaming the fields thoughtfully.
But his question was angled at her, and she listened as he continued to speak of being a thief in his own right, and she laughed along with him – the sound bright and charming regardless if he had stopped suddenly. Yet her laughter and smile began to shift as she stared a bit harder into the blades of grass. She wanted to answer him, glancing over to him as he asked if he could draw her and she nodded, clearing her throat to answer him. “I can tell you all of that while you sketch, if you prefer?” She answered, standing up to move against the field backdrop and settling back down in the grasses, allowing him the opportunity to pose her however he wished.
Then, she cleared her throat and inhaled deeply, shooting a glance at his face that made her feel somewhat comfortable in sharing a bit of truth from her past. “Well, I was raised with servants to a kingdom in another world. Our kingdom was at war with the other kingdom to the east, but it had gone on for centuries, so we just figured it wouldn’t ever change. But the threats grew bigger and bigger, and on my eighteenth birthday the king hauled me and my family into a room and basically told me that I was his child from him and his queen who had died a few days after my birth. He told me he hid me away to keep me safe.” She paused, glancing to him to see how he’d receive it. “I didn’t know it at the time, but that wasn’t entirely true. I still have royal blood, but I was an affair between the queen and the warrior general. Anyway,” she paused with a bit of a choked laugh. “I didn’t know that, and instead they had me spend a few months learning the ways of court before having me shipped off to marry the prince of the other kingdom that had threatened us for years.” She began to go a bit slower in her recollections, as if it was difficult for her to recall the happy times she shared there.
“He was kind enough, at first. We were wed when I turned nineteen and we had a decent life at first. Though he always remained curious of my upbringing and why they had suddenly just heard of a royal appearing out of thin air. I didn’t have a good answer for him, I didn’t know any better, but I tried. It didn’t end up being a good enough story when the prince had found a spy from my homeland, making sure I was settling in well enough in the hopes I’d bear a child – only this spy was one that had been there at my birth and knew the true story of it.” She paused once more, turning slightly to look at him fully while she spoke. She wouldn’t mention anything of her pregnancy and what had happened, but instead a more round about truth. “He had me thrown in the dungeon.” She paused once again, refusing to admit the beatings. “I stayed there for a time before he shipped me off to my homeland when he left to claim it. During the process and the destruction of my home, I made my escape. So as you can see, I wasn’t much of a bandit as I was fleeing someone wishing for retribution.” She said with a small sad smile. “My face was very recognizable. He had also… branded me. But, I managed to literally fall into here before he had a chance to find me.” Her eyes remained on his face as she spoke, hoping to catch any information across it. “It’s a very welcome change, I’m sure you can imagine. I’m twenty-five now and ran away when I was twenty-one. I was very good at staying hidden for those years.” She laughed a bit nervously, unsure of why she decided to tell most of her story to this complete stranger.
Maybe it was the kind, solemn looking face. Maybe she had simply bore the brunt and feelings of it for so long that she needed to tell someone.
12-05-2018, 04:49 AM (This post was last modified: 12-05-2018, 07:50 PM by Alistair.)
ALISTAIR
Alistair nodded, accepting her offer to hear her story. Though he appeared distracted by sketching he soaked in every word.
"You were forced to grow quicker than most at such a young age...I can't imagine the weight suddenly placed on your shoulders, sent off to marry one you hardly knew..."
Than she went on and the tale grew darker. Mentions of branding hinted other forms of abuse were not far off, but he didn't pry any further.
He took in only what she allowed him to. Alistair often wondered what it was about him that made people open up with little in terms of pressure.
It was something he never took for granted. Unprovoked people revealed a vulnerability. Any other man would like seize the advantage, weave words to string a wounded or lost heart, and capitalize on it for their own benefit.
Alistair, simply listened. Growing up alone as long as he had, and finding himself feeling alone once again...he understood the value of just being there, being an ear for their voice.
"You chose to survive. Despite the loss and the odds against you. You chose to survive...and here you are. A princess without a kingdom to lead, without a reason to exist in fear...being crudely drawn by a stranger in this strange land.
That is...quite the path you forged for yourself."
Adding finishing touches, Alistair handed the pad to Rexanna as his fingers raised to scratch along his stubbled chin.
The sketch held a muted realism, as if she had been looking through a hazy mirror. The fullness of her lips, doe-like gleam in her eyes, the faint signs of the brand...Alistair captured her beauty to the most minute detail, such as the subtle sleepy-eyed puff of her eyes, drawn to endeer instead of insult.
Every facet of her face handled with the up most care.
"So now what? You have a chance to forge a new path, a chance to be more...What will you do?"
He was quiet while she spoke, and she could have thanked him for that kind duty if it weren’t for his responses. Her head lowered slightly, a faint smile blossoming on her lips. “Oh I loved the finery, I really did.” She admitted, reminiscing of the dresses and power she welded. “But it wasn’t very uncommon for arranged marriages where I’m from. The only rank of power exempt from it were usually the farmers. I expected it, but not to that magnitude.” It was a way of saying that she had expected to be married to some stranger – but not to a prince of all things. Deep within her mind, she still remained a servant girl trying to make her way in the world.
He continued to speak, sketching while he did so and she watched in silence while he worked. His words having a way of washing over her, as if to say it was okay to have that happen – that she had made it out, that she survived. But she laughed when he spoke of crude drawings and her nose wrinkled yet again as she looked to him with a bit of disbelief. “I guarantee you it’s better than those terrible bounty posters I was on.” She jested, watching as he handed the pad to her. She took it in her hands, her sapphire gaze slipping to look upon the rough pads surface, of the charcoal and waves of grey and black build up for shading and sketching, and she smiled to herself at the picture. She hadn’t really seen what she looked like in quite some time – and she believed that she had turned out beautiful.
Her fingers hovered over the faint lines of the brand, refusing to contact the paper for fear of smudging it, but instead she traced it in the air before she looked back up at Alistair. “This is beautiful, certainly not crude.” She wanted to laugh to him, but she found her eyes sparkling with the idea. But he directed another question toward her and she aimed to hand the pad back to him before folding her hands in her lap. “Survive.” She shrugged, looking back to him with a half grin.
“If anything else happens after so be it. But for now, I’m planning on surviving as a woman that had been on the run for far too long with nothing to her name.” She answered confidently, her head raising with the poise and power of a would be queen. Her eyes softened however, and a smile graced her lips as she looked upon Alistair further. “So, now that I’ve told you my story, what’s yours?” She paused, grinning. “Aside from stealing from the nude?” She laughed a chiming sound and patiently waited.
12-06-2018, 05:12 AM (This post was last modified: 12-06-2018, 05:29 AM by Alistair.)
ALISTAIR
"It takes a daft hand to steal coin, much less when a man is his most vulnerable..." Alistair chuckled more genuinely this time, pleased when he saw Rexanna take in his handiwork.
"Typical fairy tale life I suppose
Orphaned child left at a door step, little did he know his life would hold a deeper, greater purpose..." a mock hushed whisper given before Alistair smirked and shrugged.
"I was fortunate, one of the few in my position to find a home, a family. His name was Ishmal...an elderly man but, so full of life and wisdom...I can only assume he is still swimming in vast volumes of books in some sort of organized chaos..." he laughed at the thought he knew would be an accurate assessment.
"He gave me everything really...gave me a chance to make something of myself. Before arriving here I worked as a farmer and scribe, one of the few that held such an education...but I always felt most at home on fields such as this..."
Alistair took a breath and picked at the grass once again.
"Fell in love...it was complicated from the very beginning...perhaps I was a fool to pursue...she too was haunted by the ghosts of her past except hers caught up to her.
She was so broken...and for the smallest periods it felt like I was able to salvage what was there, you know? Salvage what good was left in her...she married me...and for a blink of a moment she was happy..."
His voice trailed briefly before he continued.
"However, I came to the harsh reality that there are some things beyond saving...she just...gave up. On herself, on us...on everything. She had grown so used to her misery, she just couldn't part from it...even at the cost of a man who gave her everything he had."
Alistair paused thoughtfully.
"I thought many times, since that day, if I failed her somehow you know? If I could have done anything differently...I just...I had nothing. I guess that's the most troubling thing...now I'm here, attempting to gather the pieces of who I am."
Alistair turned his eyes to Rexanna and pushed himself up, offering her his hand to take.
"I've got a camp, just past the hills over there. Homes are difficult to come by...sort of enjoying the freedom given to me though."
Stubbled lips pursed into a smirk as he made a motion with his head to follow.
"I had planned to cook...if you have no other obligations...you're welcome to join...to eat that is...food..."
Crimson found his face once again as he cleared his throat.
"...this...sounded much better when rehearsed in my head."
He attempted to assure Rexanna with a faint, slightly embarrassed grin.
She found her eyes lingering on Alistair as he spoke, chuckling now and then. But when he began to speak of his own story, her gaze hardened a bit – not in an intimidating way, but a way that showed that she focused on him and only him while he spoke. Not the birds chirping in the trees nearby, or the wind that blew around them, flickering the grasses like candle light. She nodded with him when the story called for it, understanding in a way that most others didn’t. Rexanna was privileged too, she had experiences that others like her didn’t (of course before she knew her true life.)
Then he spoke of love, and she watched curiously as his face began to change – where fondness became hurt, and she wanted to reach for him, to comfort him if she could. After he spoke, his attention again landed on her and she offered him a small, kind smile. “I wouldn’t blame yourself. Sometimes… People just need to learn about themselves rather than expect others to fill that void.” She mentioned, thoughtfully, before Alistair stood from the grass and offered a hand.
He asked her if she’d be interested in following him to his camp for food and perhaps some well needed rest. Well, with that kind of idea, she nodded and took his hand gratefully. She stood up in a fluid motion, chiming a laugh as he stumbled over his words. Was he that nervous? She grinned to him, a brilliant wide smile, patting his hand should he let her as if to say it was fine.
“That sounds wonderful. What’s on the menu?” She asked, her sapphire gaze lingering on his red tinged cheeks before looking to the place he had previously nodded with his head; willing to follow him to wherever the camp was located.
12-06-2018, 11:40 PM (This post was last modified: 12-06-2018, 11:41 PM by Alistair.)
ALISTAIR
"Venison. I hunted, for years. Ishmal had taught me to man a bow, taught me to respect every creature and the necessity of its offerings to us. Life to sustain life, a precious gift..."
Alistair replied, his tone easier this time as he appeared more relaxed, relieved even to having opened up. Perhaps hearing the very words spoken out loud instead of stewing in his own mind was a welcome release.
It was also comforting to know someone seemed content to open up their own revelations to him, eliminating the smoke and mirrors some practice during social interactions.
"I became quite good at it...there's peace with the whole act of it you know? The silent moments before the quiver rings and the fall of the beast..."
He smiled as he recalled the many lessons he had taken with his adopted father, the whispered instructions. The respect he instilled on Alistair to have for every living thing, even when harvesting.
"Cleaned it, prepped it myself as well. Most of it is back at the Tavern run by Vervain Calob...she's a fine woman, she's like my mum...if I could imagine her being here that is. I managed to bring some for myself when I set for camp...but there's enough to share."
The camp was rather modest looking. A ring of stones built to contain the fire once built, a sheep skin knapsack, a pan, some mushrooms, potatoes, and the meat which was secured in its on ventilated sack.
"I'm afraid it isn't much in terms of comforts..."
Alistair teased folding his knapsack into a makeshift seat for Rexanna , taking her hand gently and leading her over to seat her. He'd gather some wood splayed on the side and begin to stoke the flames.
The sun was setting and a leafchange chill began to breeze through. The thin, sheepskin coat Alistair wore was insulated and warm, though he wore a long-sleeved shirt beneath as well.
As the flames began to build, he would walk over to Rexanna and begin undoing his coat, draping it over her shoulders where he rubbed along the arms to quicken the warmth around her.
"There, much better yea?"
His eyes were dark but held a sincere warmth to him, his slow-forming smile equally so.
"You're in good hands..."
He muttered before correcting himself at the way the phrase had sounded.
"I was excellent cook, you'll be hard pressed to find another to dispute that. Ishmal insisted, I be as well balanced a man as I could possibly be."
His voice was soft in recollection as he continued to gently rub the sleeves of the coat along Rexanna's arms.
"Manners maketh man right?"
Chuckling, Alistair stood and began prepping the food, going about cooking the meat first.
"Suppose it isn't just isolated to men. What's the point of living if not to explore the boundaries of who we are and what we are capable of?"
As he set the meat to cook he walked over, made sure the coat was sealed around her so she remained untouched by the chill, before sitting next to Rexanna, stoking the fire occasionally as the pan, hanging over the flames began to cook.
He would reach for a leather flask, its sack filled with wine Vervain was kind enough to relieve to him, to which Alistair would open and offer to his guest.
"The age is unknown but there's no questioning its worth in taste..."
