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!
'A final gift...' She says, before the Sword might turn to depart. He is not of her, in the way Amalia is. Though Safrin might have revealed the strength within him, still she senses that Deimos keeps his council and that of his friends with more devotation than he has shown to her. For this he ought to be punished, cast aside. She is oh so fickle after all.
And yet..
Safrin looks up towards the heavens and waves her fingers. As she does so, the stars twinkle more brightly, dancing with light that makes them almost seem like they are laughter with the voice of a thousand small bells.
We're lost in the space between
who we are and all that we're trying to be
If it weren’t for Amalia, Deimos might’ve never been amongst a herald’s wisdom at all. For all the amount of times he’d tried, both here and in other worlds, not been answered, not been heard, not been acknowledged, would it have been a surprise that their counsel wasn’t the first he went for? He’d once established faith and accord in the foundations of his allies, comrades, and friends, habitual, routine, to rely upon their experiences and knowledge. But he’d tried here, listened, bowed his head against stars, skylines, and the cosmos – a work in progress, to understand what it meant for the divine to even speak to him. There was always gratitude in it, regardless of the circumstances.
His confusion was evident in the furrowing of his brow, in the bewilderment of his eyes. A final gift? He hadn’t asked for anything else, hadn’t quested for anything else. An enigmatic, eerie sense of wonder, and some apprehension, coasted along the surface of his skin as she waved her fingers, as her gaze went to the heavens, as his stare followed the patterns, the works of light. Pick one.
In the midst of silence, after ensuring Amalia’s ring was safely back in the confines of its box, in his pocket, his hands went to an effervescent bounty of light along the middle, of stars dotting the world.
DEIMOS
Stop trying to show how to save our souls
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
When finally the Sword settled on a star, it would flash brilliantly in the velvety sky. Tilting her head slightly to the side, smiling with a fondness as if she knew intimately the one he'd suggested (and indeed, she did), the goddess nodded. "So be it. When Amalia wears that ring and finds herself away from you, that star will shine all the brighter for her. For you, it will shine like no other in the sky, that you might both look upon it no matter where you are, and know you are looking at the same thing."
We're lost in the space between
who we are and all that we're trying to be
He could naught but watch as the chosen star flashed, brilliant and blinding, uncertainty landing in his vestiges, in his wake, all over again. He only swallowed it all down, the apprehension, the consternation, when Safrin nodded, when she explained. For a few moments, he was still, silent, placing that kindness, that ambience, that gift in the sanctions of his heart. He didn’t deserve it, but surely Amalia did, and the gesture was overwhelming, glorious, and monumental. Bright stars and symbols, a single one for them, when they were away from one another, when they were bound by other clarities, distinctions, and missions. So the beast stared at it, then back to the goddess, strangled into his own quiet, affected, overcome ministrations. He bowed his head, but then tilted it once more, to pinpoint the exact location, memorize, the stature of the night sky. “Thank you again for this, and everything else.” Because now Amalia could be healed, her legs, at the very least – and then maybe they could go forward, instead if constantly sinking into the mire.
DEIMOS
Stop trying to show how to save our souls
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
'You're very welcome, Deimos." Safrin agreed with a starlit smile. Were it anyone else she might have reached forward to softly stroke his cheek, but there was something about his stoic nature that seemed to cow even Safrin's hand.
"Off with you then. If you hurry you'll catch Amalia quickly." The goddess said with a laugh as she vanished into a fading plume of midnight lavender.
