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!
Never a shuffle, but a series of rash, unrelenting movements, the youth and her gourd maneuvered through the wilderness, plucking at leaves and nettles, striving and ascertaining for diligent pathways. She hadn’t ventured towards the Mathair since previous seasons: before LongNight, when the blight seethed and raged. A part of it remained somewhat of a stigma, a reminder, of everything she’d done, boundaries mauled and mottled because she’d lacked control. Not today though, as the sun rose and began to fall, soft in its amber illusions and blends, in the descended grace, in the hum under her breath. “What would we like to sing to Safrin?” Her inquiry was for Fangorn, but maybe to the forest too, in the way the leaves curled without the solar rays projecting, in the way the earth turned to something else when twilight began to settle. The pumpkin growled and hissed something in return, and they continued their wayward trail, marked by memories and recollections; footfalls soft and restless.
Sascha was out and about in the forest as always, searching for beautiful woods to use for his upcoming projects. The sweat laid on his brow from the longheat heat which had forced him to get down on one knee next to a sparkling stream to get himself some cooler water to drink. After investigating if it was drinkable he swooped up some of the water, using his hands as a bowl before drinking it. He had water with him but it had gotten warm and more recognizable as tea by now so some cooler liquid was highly invited to take in. He took a deep breath of relief as he stood up again, shirt sticking to his sweaty back since the day indeed were hot. He was thinking about which direction he would venture to as he heard a voice coming flying through the branches up ahead.
Well in tuned to that it might be a bad idea to follow the sound Sascha's mind didn't seam to care as he started walking towards the origin of the voice. Pushing through the heavy brush of leaves and branches he came closer and closer to then emerge from the branch prison of the forest. There a red headed woman was walking, almost right at the space he had come from like a swamp monster. Leaves sticking out of that long, black hair and a smile that lit up the forest even more. "Hello there!" He chirped as he battled to be completely freed from the branches that had taken a hold of his clothing on the way out. "Sorry if i scared you, i just heard a voice out here and had to investigate" He said as he unhooked himself.
Fangorn’s hisses and grumbles while they leapt and bounded through underbrush might have indicated his partiality for not listening to her sing. Melita lacked the fine fundamentals of a beautiful voice attuned for pitches and beats and strains, that had been her twin’s area of finesse. The honeybee girl had sunk into weaponry, munitions, and action instead, and despite her love of humming, of trilling, of warbling, it didn’t mean the rest of the world, much less Safrin, wanted to hear it. She shrugged and shook her head, not quite damaged or demeaned by the pumpkin’s accord; she knew exactly how awful she sounded. “Fine, fine, how about a story then? We have plenty of those.” Another sibilance echoed down by her ankles, this time meandering somewhere within agreement, and they carried on –
Only for another to chirp.
She swung around, hands instinctively wrapping around the staff belted to her side, Fangorn rushing forward, nestled somewhere in the thorns and nettles. Neither of them had met this particular individual, and despite the friendly, amiable overtures (and the clothing requiring dislodging from branches and boughs), her palm didn’t remove itself from her chosen weapon. “Oh, hello.” Breathing away the residual, quickened heartbeat, her eyes narrowed, speculative, and given that amount of sparse moments, the unrelenting weight of her palm left the staff’s fixture, extending outward to the stranger. “I’m Melita. Who are you?”
Sascha looked as far from dangerous as one possible could in Caido with that brilliant smile on his face as he tried to take out some of the leaves from his hair, without even noticing her suspicious stance before him yet. Unaware as well over the startlement he had cause her in here peaceful strut through the greatwoods. He let his hair be for now after reliving it from at least the majority of leaves His eyes wandered down to the weapon and blinked once before he suddenly realized that he might have scared this woman half to death. "Oh forgive me! I hope i didn't scare you to much! My name is Sascha." He stated with the smile as he tried to look less imposing (If that in a fantasy world would even be possible, lol) by taking a step back to give her some space.
"Sorry, i tend to be a bit brash sometimes." He let out a little nervous laugh while adjusting his outfit a bit after the tussle through the woods. He was wondering what she was doing out here in the greatwoods alone but considering it was Caido she probably knew how to defend herself so with that thought he asked. "What are you doing out here? Are you going somewhere?"
It’d likely been wrong to think of drawing her weapon on this individual, but after the series and cycles of their trials, tribulations, and tempestuous edges, it would’ve been far more foolish for her not to react at all. That wasn’t why she trained. That wasn’t why she wove precision into her arches and fronds. A tilt of her head in study continued, striving to remember if she could recall him from somewhere, but nothing seemed to ring a bell. Another portion of backdrops and surroundings, her head in the clouds. “Not scared. Prepared.” For what; she didn’t say (there were enough demons, monsters, and any other notion of things before they even hastened to the immorality of humans and their embittered souls). Her grin could’ve been considered feral or savage, if her eyes weren’t full of some distinct mirth. An assurance, a shrug to her shoulders, and off she persisted, her head inclined over her shoulder, Fangorn springing out of the brush and bushes to follow along. “I’m headed to the Mathair. I was going to tell some stories to Safrin.”
As if this summed up the explanation, she started to pick up the pace, skipping over elongated roots, bits of shadow, and curved trails, marked haphazardly by those who’d been here before. But she knew the way. Her voice was sing-song and light in the air, cast into ethereal bounties again, invitations and offerings. “You can come, if you want.”
Sascha nodded understanding as she mentioned she was prepared. Oh how he wished he had that spirit himself, sure; he did have a smaller sword tied to his waist just to be safe but he still had a loooooong way to go to be good at it. But Deimos had taught him to at least be able to defend himself and for that Deimos had his everlasting gratitude. He didn't however even touch the sword right now since he naively felt completely safe even after "scaring" Melita by his sudden appearance from the bushes. She was starting to walk and as she invited Sascha to come along he stopped in his tracks a breif moment before with his shining smile caught up to her again. "Sure! But.. what are we going to tell them and why?" He said curiously as he didn't yet fully know what was going on.
But he was however happy to meet someone new which was highly visible on his face as he a bit clumsier then her thanks to her high pace traveled through the woods.
Oh man, she's never been in THIS deep into the Greatwood! But she had to find him. There was important stuff going on back in the Settlement, and she was worried that the two of them would be needed soon. Besides, the members of the settlement often preached to never go alone into the woods- lest they find themselves trapped in one of those evil trees that suffocate people. Or accidentally insult the fae and cause even more trouble.
Either way, whether it was through luck, or good timing, she did find Sascha again! A heavy sigh escaped her chest. There wasn't that many artisans left, would have been bad if she lost another one! Besides, he had.. found someone? Who was that?
"Hey buddy, whatcha doin?" she trotted up, breathing a little heavy from her hike. "And who's that?" she whispered at Sascha.
The youth charged along, renewed in energy, zest, and spirit, a mettle to her motions, remembering the steps towards massive roots and unknown portals. She inclined her head back over her shoulder as Sascha paused, clearly puzzled by whatever they were doing – which meant he didn’t know the entirety of the legend. Was he new? Her voice sparked and toiled along the edges of ferns and light, pressing her existence into the earth, as if daring them to forget it. “To keep Safrin distracted,” she paused, lowering her tones to a whisper, as if it were a safely-guarded secret, and not what everyone else was doing. “and not let her bring the night back quickly. It's all part of the Capture the Sun myth from the Fae.” Wessex had asked her last year if she thought Safrin was listening; and though she wasn’t entirely certain or sure, she kept up with the tale, just in case. “We can tell whatever we like-,”
And her voice was cut off by another scampering through the woods; a popular choice for today’s antics.
Fangorn growled again, an unearthly, hissing sort of sibilance that pulsed and pervaded, settled into her veins, and the honeybee child ceased her movements again for the sake of a stranger’s appearance. This one appeared to be looking for Sascha, based on the resounding, ricocheting calls along the ethereal foundations, and her head tilted, curious, as she wasn’t addressed at all – save for an inquiry not laced for her ears. Narrowing her eyes and not giving it much more thought, leaving Sascha to deal with it, Melita continued on her way, her purpose not to be damned, embarking into the grounds as if she were part nymph and sylph (anything but), and the massive tree was suddenly in their wake.
"Ohh that indeed seams like a quest right up my alley! Last LongNight was really harsh after all so any attempt at all to make it shorter is a struggle worth fighting for if you ask me!" He said as he skipped over a hefty root cluster, almost falling on his butt when doing so. ALMOST. He quickly gathered himself up again from his flailed steps to keep up with the woman. Cheerful as ever he skipped along the path she was walking on and gave a second to think about what story to share as he heard a familiar voice call his name. LIBBS?! Surprised he turned around too indeed see Libbs come half running towards him with a lot more grace then he himself ever could muster in the forests. "Libbs!" He stated in pure surprise over his friend running into him out here of all places! Pleasantly surprised however! But was it safe for her to be out here all alone? Thinking this he of course didn't give a second thought that he himself had been out here all alone in the first place.
Listening to her he choose to answer in a way to sum it all up neatly that maybe made at least some sense in it all. "I was out gathering items and met a new friend, this is Melita! We are going to tell stories to Safrin, would you like to join?" Yes Sascha was indeed that sweet of a guy; Literally just met Melita and already saw her as a new friend. naively wonderful one could chose to describe him as to be honest. He looked back at Melita with a smile to in horror notice she had kept on going, ohh snap they were going to fall behind! "Please come with me!" He stated, grabbing Libbs hand to start running after the sneaky Melita.
Libbs nodded, watching the woman just walk away, as if there was no concern or reason to stay guard. Out here in these woods? Libbs' raised an eyebrow, looking to Sascha with the same narrowed gaze. That was a very.. interesting friend of his. Still, Libbs was willing to indulge, if only for Sascha's sake. He was a lovely boy. Therefore, there had to be some merit behind his actions, right?
"Sure! I'll tell her a story or two. Though, I don't know if she'll like what I gotta tell her. My stories are kinda bland." she admitted. But hey, perhaps she'll think of something by the time they get there. And as such, she started to walk alongside Sascha.
"Though, we oughta hurry. Your 'friend' just went off that way." she pointed in that direction, and hoped Sascha would decide whether to dedicate himself to the task or not.
Melita’s mission wasn’t to be daunted by unfamiliar people. It wasn’t a lack of compassion, the youth often had such kindness in spades, but her convictions had woven hard through the treeline, along the mysterious, enigmatic twists and turns of the rapturous land, and if she gave over to distraction, they might have all been lost. She crossed along paths, stopping, pausing every so often to glance back and ensure they followed, then advancing, graceful and poised, breathing along the restless air, the relishing breeze, the kiss of summer branching and brambling before them. The pumpkin and the honeybee girl, keepers of the path.
Then, all at once, the Mathair’s presence signified the landscape. Like a Colossus, like a palisade, like a citadel, despite all its hardships, entanglements, and portal battles, still managed to channel a sort of distinction and quality. The massive roots and limbs left a larger than life impression, and she hummed, whistled, content with a merry tune as they made their way to the first few intervals of wood. “Here we are!” A loud announcement and proclamation, in case they needed it, before she settled upon a portion of the tree and timber, making herself at home, patting the earthen wares. Fangorn coiled around near her feet, content to rummage along nests of leaf litter. The girl’s gilded eyes went back and forth to strangers and newfound companions. “What sort of story shall we tell Safrin?”
"I have no idea what story to tell either.. what would be suiting.. i'm a bit nervous" Sascha stated as his close friend had spoken. Yes what did you tell to a god? Something true? Made up? a mix in between? Sascha was also the type that saw people as friends at the first word between them, which was foolishly naive and probably very dangerous so it was good he had been lucky this far. The only person he had run into that he didn't really get fooled by was that woman named Zariah but that was a long time ago now. He wondered slightly how it had gone for Zariah after all that had happened and hoped she was feeling well after it all. Yes Sascha hoped all felt well probably.
As Libbs pointed out Melita was disappearing he hooked his arm with Libbs and started to run after his new friend with Libbs next to him. Didn't wanna lose poor Libbs after all! "Wait for us!" He shouted as they came towards her to soon cool down the pace behind her. "I met Melita out here!" He then stated to Libbs, a bit out of breath after their small chase. "What are the odds to run in to both Melita and you? This is awesome!" He stated happily as they followed Melita to the location ahead.
Well there he (without letting go of Libbs) Sat them down next to Melita without slightest fear with the eyes witnessing the gorgeous tree in front/under them. As Melitas question came Sascha felt that nervousness again since he litterally had no clue to what story to tell. Thinking about it in silence for a while he then said a bit worried: "Im not sure what to tell.. oh why don't you tell us all about the story of your companion?" Yes that might be an interessting story no?
Libbs paused for a moment, but actually was in agreement there!
She still huffed, trying to capture some of the air that was lost during the small little dash to catch up to Melita. She leaned her hands onto her knees, as if bending would somehow force the carbon dioxide out of her lungs quicker, before pushing herself back up again, wiping some of the sweat from her face. It was a hot, summer day after all. And as much as she loved the weather- it had it's downfalls.
"I'll admit, I could probably tell a story or two, but a lotta it would be out of context." she pointed out. "I'm still pretty new here, so unless you wanna hear about how I absolutely fail at basket making, or drinking.. or flirting.." she awkwardly shuffled her feet, "It may be best to go with yer story. Otherwise, I'd be talkin' about how I accidentally got antifreeze into a transmission- and destroyed a $120,000 car." she warned. Which, was a very hilarious story when you got down to it. If people understood context.
"Sides, it's a cute lil' pumpkin!" she pointed to the gourd. "I hadn't seen a walkin' gourd before!" she grinned.
They truly were an interesting little group assembled beneath the bounty and grace of the Mathair. Melita tucked herself along one of the larger, raised roots, encompassing it much like a throne, except she leaned forward to watch and wait, gilded eyes studying and scrutinizing as they arrived after her. No stories were actually offered, a suggestion of Fangorn being the subject matter was met with approval by the gourd, and Libbs seemed to have an account of strange, bizarre things (after basket making, drinking, or flirting) that the honeybee youth didn’t have the wisdom to behold. What was a car? "Maybe each of us can offer up a story, from our past?" Better than just her shouting everything...
Since her companion seemed to the end result, the youth leaned down to snag him in her grasp – a triumphant, eerie grin settled upon his otherworldly, ethereal features, while she segmented her legs into a criss-cross style, placing the pumpkin in her lap. “Hm. Where to begin then…” her eyes lifted towards the sky, the light dusk floating and segmenting in. Wessex had asked her last year if she thought the goddess was listening; maybe, maybe not, but Melita always thought things were worth a shot, worth a try. She never expected a response from deities anyway.
She attempted to provide a tone of narration meant to uphold excitement and wonder, eyes widening on particular inflections or intriguing, interesting tidbits. “Every Leafchange, vampire gourds come alive. They roam across the Hollowed Grounds, in search of prey.” At this, Fangorn shuddered, an excitement, a rapacious pulse to his movements, corresponding with growls and hisses in all the right places. “Citizens usually don’t take too kindly to this, so they slay them anyway they can. Sometimes they’re smashed, sometimes they’re cooked, sometimes they’re used in games.” The youth had done so herself, without knowing, ignorant, and hadn’t participated in any of them since – unless one counted the Punking. “At the end of Leafchange though, one little survivor, maybe smarter or stealthier than the rest, came out of hiding. That’s when me and another person stumbled across him.” Her fingers pressed against the top of the gourd’s head, scratching at the stem while he purred. “I offered him a piece of meat, and he decided to stay with me.” Then he lifted him, triumphant and intoning a rumble of dedication. “Meet Fangorn.”
