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!
Loren stared at the countertop before him, eyes not really focused, hands leaning against the wood. Unsurprisingly, he looked incredibly haggard. There were dark circles under his eyes (in addition to not sleeping much at all, he’d been working almost non-stop since Fiat Lux) and he’d lost weight, leaving his thin features gaunt once again.
A pot of water was on the stove, and it had just started whistling. Sighing, he pushed himself off the counter and wrapped his hands in cloth. Pouring some water into a waiting cup, he set the kettle aside. Steam wafted from its surface, and he dumped a packet of tea in there, then settled in to let it steep, expression dull and exhausted.
The only thing that is humiliating is helplessness.
ABASI
Loren was not the only resident in the Launceleyn manor feeling exhausted; the work Fiat Lux had given Abasi had been hard and for a while, seemingly never-ending. He had never been bothered by the sight of the dead, but it had been hard to not be effected by the bodies of the young on his table, especially in such a number. His hands were sore, smelt of the solvents and mixtures he used to work on the bodies, his back aching from leaning over the table.
In addition to all of that, things had been odd with Loren since Fiat Lux. Abasi had played the conversation over in his head a million times, wondering if he had said something different it could have gone better, not left an awkward silence between them in quiet moments. The resolution they'd agreed to have had been pushed aside by disaster and forgotten, it seemed.
Hearing boiling water as he walked down the corridor, rubbing at his eyes and cursing another failed attempt to sleep, he glanced in the doorway to see Loren. Not really knowing why, Abasi found his feet taking him towards the man and then, in something so unnatural to him it felt almost as if his body had been taken over by a spirit, his instinct was to simply put an arm around him, press his face into his shoulder. Wordlessly. An attempt at something like a comforting word, an acknowledgement: Things are hard right now. But I'm still here.
If his heart rules him,
his conscience will soon take the place of the rod.
As Abasi shuffled into the kitchen, Loren looked up a little guiltily. ”Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to—” his voice cut off as the undertaker wrapped his arms around and pressed himself against the summoner. Stiffening for just a moment, he swiftly slipped one hand around to the small of the other man's back and rested the other on the back of his head, then hugged him close.
The Launceleyn rested his chin on the top of Abasi's head for a moment. Tears sprang to the summoner's eyes, and he lifted the hand from the undertaker's hair to angrily dash them away. "Sorry." The Launceleyn gently extracted from the other man's embrace.
"I made tea, if you'd like some." The offer was incredibly tentative. Loren fidgeted, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other and tapped a hand nervously against the counter. "Also, we should, um, talk." The words were equal parts sad, exhausted, and resigned.
The only thing that is humiliating is helplessness.
ABASI
Loren's words melted away as they embraced for a moment; it was a quiet moment, one where Abasi was keenly aware of the sound of his own breathing underneath the whistle of the kettle - as he heard Loren give a telltale tear-logged breath he moved back, his face gently concerned as he watched him wipe his eyes. Abasi didn't say anything, but a thought arose in his mind: There has to be a way for us to fix this.
After all, he rarely got so affected by someone else's tears. Loren meant something to him.
"Yes, please." Abasi stepped back, fingers lightly tracing down Loren's arm before he let go. It was true: they did need to talk, and it could well get uncomfortable again. Still, it had to be done, and Abasi had never been one to push off things that were to do. "Then we shall talk. Let's sit down. I think..." He went to sit at whatever sofa or chair was closest, then looked back to speak to Loren, perhaps needing the distance for the moment to express this, a thought he found a little embarrassing in it's genuineness. "...Perhaps..we should frame what we speak of as not an argument between two opposing sides, but as a discussion to finding a middle ground in our relationship, working together. Do you agree?"
If his heart rules him,
his conscience will soon take the place of the rod.
Nodding, Loren grabbed another cup. Wrapping his hands in cloth again, he poured hot water into it, then dumped another packet of tea into it. Holding out the new cup for Abasi to take, the summoner lifted his own. Seeing as the only seats in the kitchen were stools, he bit his lip. ”Let’s talk in the library, then.” With that, he padded barefoot to the other room.
Opening it up to reveal the dark and cool room, lit dimly by half-shuttered windows, he walked inside. He walked over to the window to let in more light, then settled into an armchair. As the undertaker spoke, the Launceleyn’s eyes grew haunted. ”That’s a good idea.” His voice was quiet. ”But before that I think...what do you know about me? My life, my past.” Curling his fingers around his cup, he ignored the sting of pain from the heat.
The only thing that is humiliating is helplessness.
ABASI
The dim room was calm, a good quiet place to talk; certainly more fitting than the bustling festival dance floor. Hands curling around his own cup, Abasi sat on a sofa by Loren, turning to look at him as he spoke.
"Well...I know you are a Launceleyn. You have told you me you come from a place very different to this. That your magic was not as impressive as your cousins." There was no judgement in this statement, just a recollection of what Loren had said himself: to Abasi, any magic at all was still a feat of miracles, even though he had powers himself. "You...have a twin...and..." He tapped out a beat on the side of the sofa, trying to think of more. Surely, that could not be it? Yet, it seemed like it might be.
He could only recall one more detail. "You told me where you came from, two men could not be together. ...And...I believe that is all." Expectantly he looked up to Loren then, waiting to see what he was going to reveal: it seemed like it might be something he was ashamed of.
If his heart rules him,
his conscience will soon take the place of the rod.
Staying quiet as Abasi went through the few things he knew about Loren, he sighed at the end of it. Taking a sip of his tea in the hopes that it would steady his nerves, he found his foot tapping nervously until he stilled it. Biting his lip, he took a deep breath. ”I come from a very old family.” His voice was barely above a whisper. When he opened his eyes, they were haunted and distant.
As he continued, his tone was still soft and filled with sorrow. ”We were always magical, always powerful. Although we were faithful servants of the crown, they grew...I don’t know. Jealous? Nervous about our political and magical power?” The summoner shrugged to indicate that the details were lost to time. ”So my ancestors and the royals made a deal. They bound us, by blood and magic, to be fully obedient to the crown’s orders, to always act in the crown’s best interests, and to never harm a member of the royal bloodline.” Tapping the edge of his cup, he found his eyes grow tearful, though he refused to let them fall.
”The oath only triggered in those with magic, so my family...bred magicians. Those without magic were...they were enslaved to their magical brethren.” He shuddered at the memory of his poor kin, the few who were worse off than him. ”The cur...the oath demanded total obedience. A careless insult, or a stubborn refusal would...it would kill us instantly.” Now his voice came out as a half-choked sob. ”So they instilled complete and total obedience in their children.”
The only thing that is humiliating is helplessness.
ABASI
As Loren sipped his tea Abasi waited in suspense, waiting to see what it was he would reveal. When he started with the fact he had come from an old family, it felt rather like an anti-climax, something Abasi was already well aware of...but for the moment he stayed quiet, simply nodded to encourage him to keep going, drinking his own tea.
He could tell, from the way that Loren talked of it, that he considered the binding to the crown a bad thing. From Abasi's perspective though, it was not too dissimilar from the expected loyalty to the God-like pharaoh in his home; though given that cultural differences and arguments had begun this discomfort he did not mention that. Perhaps the important thing was that it was something Loren disliked.
Though as the Launceleyn went on, Abasi began to understand more. Even as his mind, steeped as it was in the rules of a system devoted to hierarchical unfairness, fought to provide rationalisations, he felt something in his chest tighten with a pain. Perhaps it was his connection to Loren that allowed him the more emotional viewpoint. Regardless of what it was, he found himself only nodding slowly to show he was listening.
"...Was this...long before you were born?" He asked, unsure of when this had occurred. After all, it wasn't still happening, with no royal family (at least not in the same sense) to bow to in Caido.
If his heart rules him,
his conscience will soon take the place of the rod.
Loren sighed, then shrugged. Taking a cup of tea to try and steady his increasingly rattled nerves, he finally shook his head. ”Yes. I don’t know how long though.” Once again, his finger tapped against the side of his mug. ”Centuries, perhaps.” He gave Abasi a troubled look. ”Like I said, we come from an old family.”
Taking a deep breath, the summoner had to let it out before he could finally continue. ”As I said, the magical binding would kill even children for the slightest misstep.” Eyes growing misty with tears he refused to shed, he looked away from the undertaker. ”So the family ensured there would be no missteps.”
Biting his lip, he found his gaze growing unfocused as he was silent for a long time. As the silence grew unbearable, he finally spoke in the barest of whispers. ”By torturing us until we were obedient.”
The only thing that is humiliating is helplessness.
ABASI
Abasi took a sip of his own tea and nodded to acknowledge Loren's answer - this system had been in place since he had been born, then. He suspected that likely made it harder for Loren to imagine changing it, at least until he'd seemingly escaped it by coming to Caido.
"...I see. That is cruel." He stated simply, perhaps too much so, but he didn't want to say too much until the Launceleyn had said all that he wanted to. It seemed like this was going somewhere and Abasi wasn't sure they were there yet. When Loren had first begun to speak he had thought he was listening to a confession, but so far it seemed more like a list of other people's sins.
There was a long silence. He didn't push Loren to speak, just watched him carefully, observed the contours of his face. Perhaps they were currently in the midst of an argument, but he found himself nearly smiling. He was indeed very fond. When Loren finally spoke again he took in a breath, feeling a tightness in his chest.
There was only really one question to ask. "Were..you tortured?" He asked quietly.
If his heart rules him,
his conscience will soon take the place of the rod.
Finally, the inevitable question from Abasi came. Loren hesitated, staring into the depths of his tea, as if they'd reveal some way for him to speak the words without pain. Eventually, he screwed his eyes shut. "Yes." It was a small and shameful whisper, and he found that he was trembling.
So he forced himself to still, and to open his eyes. They gazed sightlessly ahead of him, boring into a point in the floor. When he spoke next, while still pained, it came out in more of a dull tone. "You see, it didn't matter if I was obedient or not. Because I was weak." He took a shuddering breath. "And because of the need to enforce the oath, and served the crown, weak magicians weren't tolerated any more than disobedient ones were. The strongest and most destructive mages were in charge."
Suddenly, his fingers were white-knuckled against the mug, which shook slightly in his hands. "And because I was weak, they tortured me. Over, and over, and over again, for years and years."
The only thing that is humiliating is helplessness.
ABASI
Usually, when Abasi heard of unfairness or cruelty, when he saw something unjust, he was able to judge it from a distant sort of place; he was used to matters of politics where the people had to be pawns in the game and nothing else - which is why as Loren confirmed he had indeed been tortured, not just once but many times, he was surprised to feel what could only be described as an emotional punch in his gut. Anger, sadness, and an intense need to comfort.
Without a word he stood and went to kneel before Loren in his chair, gently putting his hands over the other man's tense ones on his mug. He had no idea what he was doing, but thought only to continue his physical affection from earlier - it felt natural. Gently he stroked the edge of Loren's hand with his thumb.
"I can only hope to...apologise, if any of my words or actions brought this to mind for you." He began, knowing that it likely wasn't a coincidence this was coming up after their last conversation. "I also want you to know I..." He paused, considering his words. This was far more difficult than repeating scripture or trying to justify his past - this was in the moment, words with a responsibility to make Loren feel better. "...obviously do not believe you deserved any of that. And I will do everything I can to stop you from taking it again. I promise this to you."
If his heart rules him,
his conscience will soon take the place of the rod.
As Abasi came over and knelt, and laid his hands over Loren, he had to choke back a sob. Gently, he extracted one hand so that he could angrily dash away the tears that threatened to fall. Slowly, he placed his hand over the undertaker’s. ”Not...exactly. You just reminded me we had sworn to be honest. And it made me realize that I had...been less than forthcoming about my past.” The summoner’s voice was guilty, and he found that he couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes.
"Thank you." It came out barely above a whisper, but the Launceleyn was more touched than he could possibly say. "I'm not really...worried about my family anymore, though. They disowned me, and I'm strong enough now that they would likely leave me alone."
He hesitated. "I'm...I know we need to speak further. But I'm sure you have question and I...there's probably more I should tell you." Again, his tone was ashamed.
The only thing that is humiliating is helplessness.
ABASI
Abasi was not used to see Loren cry and watched with a sinking feeling in his chest as the tears were wiped away; yet he found he did not feel the same uncomfortable awkwardness he usually would - just sadness. He tightened his hands around Loren's and shook his head as Loren said he had been too secretive. "I forgive you this. You never lied to me, after all."
He was glad that Loren's family was no longer too much of a concern. He had meant his promise, but he knew he'd likely die sooner than the Launceleyns would be stopped; his magic was still weak and hardly any use in a fight.
There was more to say, yet Abasi found he didn't want to go back to his own space. He sat more comfortably, a hand resting on Loren's leg. Perhaps Loren would not understand the significance of this position, to lower oneself before another, but for Abasi it was intimate enough to feel he was giving the Launceleyn some comfort. "Tell me everything, before I ask. I want to have all I need to know."
If his heart rules him,
his conscience will soon take the place of the rod.
