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!
Ouch. Thanks Amun. It hurt a whole lot to basically be told that his biggest problem was that he wanted to live life happy. That the things that made him happy were wrong. That when he felt joy being around another person it was bad. It wasn't a happy thing to think about....but if it meant he would stop fighting with others, then he'd try to hold it back at much as possible? As long as Amun didn't hate him, it was fine. Yeah. He'd be happier anyways if Amun was nicer to him.
His eyes focused on his basket as he chewed on his lips, not even daring to watch as Amun started to make his exit. Before the man could leave, Oliver looked forward towards the canvases. "What about your art? Aren't you going to take it with you?" Even if Amun didn't give a flying fuck about his artwork, Oliver still cared about what others had to produce. Surely, the ascended would want to keep what he had created, even if it was minimal. Oliver hadn't gotten to see it, but he could bet it was beautiful.
I JUST WANT MY EXISTENCE TO BE MORE THAN TREMBLING
The words halted Amun in his tracks. Turning, he stared at Oliver. The Ascended wasn’t even breathing. "I'd hardly call it artwork." The words carried a dangerous edge. "And I don't want a reminder of the fact that I can't do anything."
Facing forward again, he stood in the doorway. "Get rid of it. You can burn it, for all I care." With that, he walked forward again, fully exiting the Sanctuary. The heat and light outside mocked him almost as much as the blank easels and unworked clay did. Frowning slightly, he tucked the basket more fully in the crook of his arm. Then he walked away.
The words echoed in his ears as Oliver didn't dare look back at Amun. It was obvious that Amun wasn't doing too hot, but even still, Oliver thought he was being a small bit of a dick about things. It's fine, though, he was probably just being too 'excited' over the idea of art. Even if Amun didn't view it as art, Oliver was sure that Bastien would. So, walking over to where all of the supplies were stored, Oliver took out a small parchment of paper and a cloth and returned back to the desk.
Scrawling out on the paper, Oliver left a special message for his guildmaster. The note would read.
Bastien,
I wasn't sure what to do with this. Amun created it, but states that he feels as though it is better off burnt. Told me to get rid of it, but I wanted a second opinion. I've left a cloth over it so to preserve his wishes for others to not see it, but if you desire to do something else with it, go for it. I just thought it was wrong to burn a piece of art, even if he doesn't currently see value in it.
~~~~ Oliver
Walking on over to the easel, Oliver plucked up the canvas without looking, headed on over to the stage, and proceeded to drape over the cloth on top it. The finishing touch was the piece of paper on top.
With that mission done, he picked up his sketchbook, mostly completed basket, and headed outside. Hopefully he wouldn't run into Amun anytime soon. That'd be preferable.
FIN
I JUST WANT MY EXISTENCE TO BE MORE THAN TREMBLING
