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!
She had not slept a minute. The Daughter of Death, as calm and collected as she usually was, had been shaken to her resurrected soul but the word and feelings imparted by the spirit of the Ascended she had stolen from the Voice. She had seen and helped tortured souls before, addled and shaken by their lives or deaths or Cat Sith, she had felt a great number of dead at once before too. But this? It had been beyond anything she had ever known. This spirit had been more than tortured, they had been nearly snuffed out like an ember, smothered over the centuries, pulled to her only through luck and grit alone. And behind them? The sheer mass of souls, so crammed together they nearly melded into one?
She had not walked to the shrine, she ran.
As she skidded to a halt in front of the statue meant to depict her father, her lungs burned as her breath came short, the lingering scent of spices and cedar clinging to her clothes. ”Father! I must speak with you at once, please!” she called, a slight tremble in her voice as her legs and arms trembled from exhaustion.
Time works differently for the gods. For the heralds it is a swift river, but for he and Vi and Rae? It is a current. To step away is to lose days, months even, in the blink of an eye. The sound of his daughter's cries are faint—a whisper through the gale—but the spirits are restless and it alerts the god of death that there is something amiss brewing below.
Appearing in a calming hushhhh, Mort immediately steps forward, arms outstretched. "Before you say anything, I require at least three hugs." His voice is warm, his looks boyish, and yet his power is unmistakable.
Mighty as he was, to see him there did not strike awe or fear into the Seer, but calm and peace. Without hesitation she rushed forward and hugged Mort tightly, face buried in his shoulder as if she were but a small child again. And really, by comparison, she was but a babe in his eyes, which had seen millennia while hers less than what he missed in a blink. Her limbs still trembled from exhaustion, from her sprint and from her ritual, but her heart began to calm. With Mort there, all was well. ”I am sorry to call you away.” she said quietly, breathless still. She knew to do so interrupted his important work. But this was not something that could wait.
But of course, he had said three hugs hadn’t he? And so she relaxed and tensed her arms thrice, a small smile on her lips. A god who traded favor for hugs was the kindest and most loving of gods indeed.
Only then did she pull her face back to look upon him. It always so good to see him, rare as it was, and he never changed. A perk of godhood she supposed. But her worry was etched into her haunted features, trying to make sense of her thoughts as she ran over what had occurred over and over again. ”I stole a soul from the Voice. One of the lost Ascended.” she said, voice shaking slightly. She had not been given this soul, like the fake-goddess have given some to Ludo. She had snatched this one away, pulled through the realms and planes of existence like a Cat Sith in the night.
"Now, now." The god tuts under his breath, his hands smoothing down his daughter's unruly raven hair. "Never apologize for calling out to me." There is a smile audible in his voice, and his laughs gently against her as she pulses out the hugs he has requested.
As she pulled away, his smile remained sweet and patient despite the eagerness and anxiety that he could feel quaking off of her. If she thought her words would surprise him, she was wrong. Or at least if she had been successful, Mort's expression didn't change from one of adoration. "An ascended soul?" His head turns slightly to the side, one eye half-closing playfully to indicate incredulity. "Show me."
To be comforted by Mort was the greatest gift of all, and she soaked it in as though she were parched and he water. It was a blessing, she knew, that she could call to him always, and when he did deign answer, he would never be cross, no matter how large or small her request might be. ”Thank you, father.” she said softly, finally feeling her breath begin to even out the longer she stood in his presence.
But something in his response, his incredulous look, gave her pause. Was…was she wrong? With a slight frown she reached out, gently pulling the soul she had just sent from his realm. Usually she could not do so with such ease, but it was Mort’s will at the moment. In her hands floated the little orb of light, held out for him to see. ”I called for answers about the whereabouts of the Ascended souls, and this one answered. I…I’ve never seen one so distraught.” she said, holding what was left of this person with tenderness and care, heart swelling with as much love for them as when she had first encountered them.
But to be fair, she had not seen their form, nor had she ever encountered an ascended soul before to have a basis of feel.
With a loving and tender smile, the god of death allows himself to remove one arm from his daughter to gently coax the orb of light his way. As soon as it touches his hand, a vague silhouette appears. Not an ascended at all, but a small child.
I wish I had more to tell you, I really do. The only thing I saw was cold and the air...it's so thin! It's like you can't even breathe! It was this that made Mort look kindly towards Delphia, luscious brows raised ever so slightly. The ascended don't breathe; so why would one notice such a thing?
"You have done so very well. I can't wait to play with you. Why don't you go and find the others, and I"ll be along shortly?" The soul vibrated so brightly that its light became incandescent. With a smile that dimpled his cheeks, Mort tossed the soul upwards where the ether and fabric of the universe seemed to part to allow it through.
Delphia watched with awe as the soul to the form it had had in life, brows furrowing to see it was indeed not what she had thought, but a small child. That a child’s soul had been lost for so long that it had been unrecognizable pained her almost as much as the disappointment she felt in herself. Her eyes were not strong enough yet, her senses still too weak. How could she be of any use to him when she mistook a child for an ascended? She pulled in her lower lip, worrying it with her teeth as the child spoke, though it did warm her heart to see them bloom so under Mort’s loving gaze.
”I’m sorry. I will be more observant next time.” she said at once, eyes falling to the ground, not even daring to look upon him for her shame. She never wished to fail Mort, not even over something as seemingly small as this. But, even if she had been wrong about what sort of soul it was, she had gotten some information that was useful, and she didn’t want to waste his precious time on her mistakes any longer if she could help it. ”They…they told me more though.” she said, glancing up at him sheepishly, hoping to at least add some value to this visit. ”They said that the souls the Voice keeps from you are the Core.” she said softly. She didn’t know what that was really, but it obviously had some connection to the Voice.
"Of course you will." Mort said warmly without a hint of disapproval or disappointment. One of his hands rubbed gentle circles into his daughter's back as he smiled. "You're still young, my daughter. You've lived the blink of an eye. To understand the nature of souls...it isn't something that's digested so easily. But you above all others have the capacity for it."
For a moment Mort's youthful expression looked strained, his deep hazel eyes flecked with worry. With a breezy sigh however, his stroking of Delphia's back continued and he smiled deeply. "The Core. That is good to know."
Pulling back and giving his freckled-offspring a paternal look, Mort took her hand in his and began to walk with her through the trees. "Do you have anyone to talk to Delphia? Other than the spirits?"
The pressure Delphia put on herself was always far greater than what Mort ever did. He was always so kind and understanding, believing in her with such confidence it was humbling. That he so believed she would do better, and moreover that she had the capacity to understand that which only the gods did? She could have shone as brightly as one of Safrin's stars. "Thank you, father. I will make you proud, I promise." she said, a sure bod following her declaration.
But the sudden worry on his features gave her pause. She had never, not once, seen anything other than warmth and love and patience in his infinite gaze. To see one so mighty as him worry...it was unsettling to put it mildly. "What is it, this Core? Why would she keep souls within?" she said. Her worries about the Voice using these souls to maintain her immortality suddenly rose to the surface, and her dark brows furrowed above her pale gaze.
Could she really be so...so evil?
His hand wrapping around her pulled her from her thoughts and she followed him through the trees without hesitation. Someone to talk to. She considered quietly, looking up at the branches as they passed between them. "I've spoke with Ludo, who is as wonderful as you described." she said with a smile at Mort. "And Safrin and Frey...though Frey wasn't really interested jn answering my questions." she admitted. That he might mean other people of the human varied did not occur to her at first. A result of her upbringing - raised in such a devout family she had been raised with her soul purpose being to the gods. She was a child of Mort. She did not have the luxury of the usual and mundane lives of others. She was to serve his will and the will of the gods, an extention of Mort's own hand in the world. As much as she loved them, to want and seek other people was not her first instinct.
The inside of his cheek puckers as he nibbles at it, considering her question. "We believed that the Core was her body. The Voice just...a manifestation of it. When the barrier fell and the Core seemingly destroyed, we assumed that couldn't be the case, as she still persisted.." Mort explains. "But if the Core exists still...then perhaps we weren't as wrong as we believed."
His fingers are soft, shockingly so, as if he's never done a day of work in his life. Indeed his body is lean and without muscle, giving off the incorrect impression that he has lived an easy life. With a light chuckle, Mort nods. Around them the trees seem to sigh and curl inwards; not begging for death, but pleased enough to be so close to the one who gives their lives meaning.
"No, no Frey wouldn't be." Mort agreed, the smile tugging at his lips colouring his words as well. "But that isn't what I mean, daughter. When you're out in the world, day to day...is there no one with you?"
Delphia could have bloomed like a flower from Vi's beard at the praise, holding it close to her heart so it might keep her in good spirits for many days to come. "I am so lucky to have such a loving father as you." she said lovingly, looking up at him warmly. Sure, he did not make her of his own body, but he was the reason she had been born again, the one who placed her soul within the womb of a woman.
The subject had grown serious though, and her gaze fell in contemplation. "I see..." she said quietly, thinking back to her conversation with Ludo, how - while not positive of the accuracy of her conjecture - they did not immediately deny the possibility. "Is it...could she be using the souls to keep herself sustained? So that she seems as immortal as you and the others?" she asked, dreading any possible confirmation. Such a thing would be so deplorable, she wasn't certain if even her Mort in all his loving glory could forgive her such a crime. Ascended or not, a soul was a soul.
Despite the softness of his hand, which she squeezed lightly, lovingly as they walked, she knew his life had been no luxury. He had the most difficult task of all the three high gods she thought, the duty to take what people clung to with desperation, begged to not come. He and his work were unwanted by the masses, and he loved them still. It could not be easy. Yet here he was, asking after her, and her well being.
Her pale eyes blinked slowly at his question, having to think harder on it than she should have - which in and of itself likely answered his question. "I see people sometimes and help them. More now that the barrier is down. But...I don't have a companion, if that is what you mean. I live alone and spend most of my time on my own." she said, pursing her lips and slowly shaking her head. "My duty is to you, to do your work here in the mortal world. To focus on friends or finding one who would be to me as Vi is to you is not the purpose for whicb you made me." she said smiling at him.
"Sustained?" He repeats thoughtfully, glancing up at the sunlight flickering through the canopy of leaves overhead. "No, I don't believe so. She does care about them, in her own way. If anything she hoards them as if they were treasure, but no, I don't believe she is tied to them in that way."
Smiling adoringly as Delphia explains herself, the god hums warmly under his breath for a moment as she finishes. "That's true my daughter...but the friends and relationships we make and maintain shape the lens through which we see the world. You, like the rest of the humans, were never created to live a life of isolation. You have a task to do, yes, but never should that impede your ability to live a life of flourishing."
"How does she maintain her immortality then?" she said in confusion. The Voice had been human. For a human to be immortal, Mort had to allow it. He kept that balance with his beloved Vi for the sake of the world itself. That he had allowed it seemed unreasonable to her, and so some trick must be at play.
But she was becoming distracted from her real task now. Finding these Ascended souls to return to her father, where they had belonged all this time. "The child said the Core was somewhere cold with thin air...so atop a mountain I presume...the Fangs are quite tall aren't they?" she said, glancing over at her father. She had been focused on maintaining the Greatwood her whole life, and like others had no access to Halo until recently. She knew of the Fangs...but that was about it.
Delphia listened thoughtfully as her father explained his concern. She was alone too much. Her world view was too small. To see only through the lens of the dead was not all she was meant to have - and he wished her to live as full a life as the others. She squeezed his hand, looking at him like a playful, mischievous child might. "You're terribly concerned with the goings on of life for the god of death you know." she said teasingly. But it was true. Her life had been very narrow so far. "I've considered trying to find and train a Cat Sith, to keep as a companion to help me find lost souls...I suppose I can try making people friends too if that is what you'd wish." she said, giving him a loving smile. Mort need only say jump and she would ask how high.
'With magic." Mort replies with a soft sigh and twirl of his fingers. "Souls might grow weary and tired, but they are evergreen. Immortality keeps the body alive to house the soul. So long as that happens, the soul can persist."
Mort's heavy brows come together for a moment as he considers Delphia's suggestion. "They are, yes. It might be worth a look, though I'm not sure how you will find them. Wherever she keeps them is veiled from us. We have searched and tried to find a way to penetrate through her veil, we've never managed it." Though Vi might not, Mort was willing to admit their flaws and failures. It was the truth after all. "The mountain range in Halo is the tallest in all of Caido. There would be no where that the air was thinner than there."
Turning a warm and crooked smile towards his child, Mort nods. "That might be the case. But a life unlived makes for unhappy souls, and no one wants that." He replied with a chuckle. 'A Cat Sith?" Though the god's lips turned downwards in a frown, he looked delighted and amused at the idea. Only Delphia would think to befriend such a creature. 'And you would care for it? And ensure that it didn't run away with any of the souls in your collection?"
