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 is ready to get the fuck out of there, not go to the office. She did what was asked of her, she fought an ursur with nothing and answered a question. What she wasn’t going to do was offer respect that had not yet been earned. That was beyond the level of behavior Weaver was capable of, and truthfully, even if she was she wouldn’t do it. You earned respect. And no, a title doesn’t count as earning it. Earning it involved proof, and so far Weaver hadn’t seen any proof.
Instead of going home, she goes to the principal’s office. Her temper is hot and bubbling, which is not the time to have this conversation but she really doesn’t care. Besides, it probably was not in Zariah’s best interest to throw out a student this early in the game, let alone a natural, who could help give weight to the school to the rest of the naturals, many of whom were less inclined to bend to outlander leaders so easily.
She knocks on the door, waiting for a response. Her scythe is strapped across her back, her black cloak back on despite the fact she no longer needs it. It’s so much a part of her she wears it anyway, the string of knives around her waist somewhat hidden beneath it. She schools her face into something impassive and blank, at least having enough sense to hide the simmering anger.
Zariah was in her office, completing the necessary paperwork to accompany the course that had been completed. She had already sent the Ursur to the palace butcher to be processed and packaged for delivery to the three students. What she didn't expect was Weaver to show up so soon. "Come in." she called, hearing the knock on the door, assuming it to be a palace assistant. Seeing her student there instead had her arching a brow.
Silently she gestured to the chair across from her desk, waiting for her to either take a seat or continue to stand. "Why don't you say exactly what it is you would have liked to say to me earlier." she said, opening the floor for Weaver to air her grievances.
She sits, crossing her legs and leaning back slightly, arms folded across her chest. The scythe moves to accommodate the new position, though Weaver doesn’t bother to remove it from her back. If she was going to say exactly what she’d thought earlier, she would have said it. Zariah’s invitation now doesn’t suddenly make her feel like she should. She’s hot tempered and pissed off, but not a complete fool.
That said, she isn’t going to remain silent either. The door is open, and while she may choose different words, the crux of the issue is the same. ”What was the point in that? she asks, leaving the accusations at the door. The question is genuine and without malice, even though it’s clear that Weaver is less than pleased. It’s the sort of question that demands a very good answer. ”Right now all I see is an Outlander who doesn’t have a lot of respect for the dangers of Halo.” And she wasn’t prejudiced against the Outlanders, not normally, but at this moment she could understand why others were.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
The Archmage's head tilted slightly at the question, brow raising at the slight insult. Slowly she slid back in her own chair, crossing her legs as she held Weaver's gaze with slightly pursed lips. At least the girl was direct and capable of keeping her hot temper in some semblance of check. "Quite the contrary. I have the utmost respect for the dangers of Halo, and the other nations of Caido. It is the very reason I held this exact lesson, in fact." she said, voice velvety smooth, calm and soothing.
"You are out hunting or scouting or any number of things that would take you into the Tundra when a blizzard hits out of the blue. You become utterly lost and hunker down until the winds die down, finding yourself farther from the Citadel than you had prepared for. You are near frozen to the bone, exhausted, hungry, when an Ursur attacks." she said more pointedly, laying out a scenario that could easily happen in Halo. "In this physical state, the most powerful magics would be beyond your reach, your body unable to channel the energy necessary to sustain them. You might not even have the strength left to lift a weapon if you are so trained. All that is available to you are your weakest magics and your own ingenuity." she said further explaining the line of thinking.
"That was the point. To put you in an extreme situation to practice the worst case scenario. You were never truly in danger. I was positioned purposefully not just to observe you, but to intervene and protect you all should you fail." Between her mastered lightning and life drain at her vantage point, the Ursur would have been toast near instantly. "The more often you are confronted with the impossible and succeed, the more likely you are to succeed again. Halo offers no mercy to those who are not prepared or who lose their heads."
She listens, face impassive, as Zariah describes the life of a Halovian to a Halovian. It’s hard to keep the sneer off her face listening, though she does. The story Zariah tells is one she knows very well. It’s the reason she’s furious, the reason she doesn’t believe that Zariah actually understands. Because yes, everything she describes can and does happen. Weaver has lived through the scenario, though not even as bad. They were cold but not tired. Err or had full access to his magic. He just didn’t have time.It’s the last bit, the belief that Zariah could have, beyond a shadow of a doubt, stopped the ursur. That’s the part that she struggles with. Because you can’t predict what’s going to happen, and sometimes it doesn’t matter how good you are, how well positioned you are.
” I don’t need a lecture about my own home,” she says, her voice cool though not icy. ”And I don’t disagree with your logic. I only disagree that you are so very confident we weren’t in danger. We were. I am not suggesting you are not powerful, but rather that things in Halo go south within the time it might take you to blink. That is the sort of thing you understand growing up here.” That’s her point. Because it seems to her there are other ways to train for that lesson without risking the lives of novice students. There are other ways to learn to survive without dancing with death. It is something they do daily simply by living here, and it isn’t necessarily the thing she wants to do needlessly.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Zariah sighed, shaking her head slightly. She hated when people requested an answer they didn't think she had, theb balked when she had one. "It is not a lecture, but proof that I have indeed thought deeply on the dangers of Halo, and how to best prepare our mages to combat them." she said dryly, though keeping her temper in place for the moment.
"Tell me, Weaver, how on earth would I have gotten a perfectly healthy, strong, battle ready Ursur to the very top of the Acadeny tower without anyone in the Citadel noticing?" she asked, beginning to poke holes in the girl's perception based on the facts she knew, having arranged the training. The answer was she couldn't have. She probably could have gotten it up, but not without the entire Citadel knowing about it. "And, are you aware of the way in which Life Drain magic affects those caught within it?"
”Drugged it?” she says with a shrug and a raise of her eyebrows. Weaver has nearly no magic to speak of, but she does know how to hunt and survive against an ursur. You don’t need magic to make things happen, though it does certainly make it easier. Though the point is not actually to argue on methods of how to transport a fully grown, pissed off ursur, but rather what she says next. ”Sure, in concept. But you are assuming I know your magic, Zariah. I know your name and your title and nothing else and you expect me to believe that we were never in danger.”
Here’s the thing about trying to poke holes in someone’s feelings - you can’t. You can logic through it all you want, but feelings don’t really work by logic. Zariah doesn’t know Weaver. Not yet, anyway. She might know Loren or even some of the others from the Grounds, but not the Halovians. She’s too new, and she hasn’t spent time with them (at least to Weaver’s limited knowledge). Zariah has no idea why Weaver is upset, not really. So she can poke all the holes she wants, but it doesn’t really change much. ”I’ve seen powerful mages at full strength fall to those things. Don’t tell me it’s impossible.”
She pauses for a moment, but then adds. ”Look, I don’t expect you to back down from your methods. But I am asking that you give a shit about the students you are putting in danger and the reality of a place you don’t know like many of us do.” Weaver has spent twenty six years learning to survive here. There’s certainly things Zariah can teach her, and she’s not suggesting there isn’t, but rather that there’s a few things the Halovians can teach the Outlanders as well, no matter their magical skills.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
"Then what is it you wish for me to say?" she asked pointedly, clasping her hands. "You say that I don't know the dangers of Halo, then I present evidence I do, and you complain I am lecturing you. You say you were in true danger, I insist I conducted the course with your safety in mind, then complain that you simply don't know my capabilities." she said, tilting her head to the side as she considered the young woman.
"I welcome your insight as a native Halovian. I welcome your questions and concerns. However, I also expect some respect for my position. Neron did not place me here simply because I am powerful, but because making other people stronger is what I do. Because he knows I have survived equally dangerous circumstances, and that I want nothing more to take this fire you are raging at me with and turn it into a honed weapon to bring Halo to supremacy." she said, leaning forward as she held the young woman's eye. "Now, why don't you tell me exactly what you're upset about."
”I don’t expect you to say anything. I didn’t come here looking for an answer, but because you told me to. You asked me to tell you what was on my mind, and I have.” She isn’t smug or even annoyed, but she is matter of fact. She hadn’t ever planned to say anything about it at all, but rather to just deal with Zariah’s tactics. At the end of the day, Weaver wanted to learn her magic enough that the rest paled in comparison. It was Zariah who had demanded she come here. And though she could sit here and rebut every point the Archmage just made, she doesn’t, because she really isn’t in the mood to argue. There’s a reason she never said what was on her mind in the first place. It’s not like she expected them to become friends, or for Zariah to stop being Zariah, or for Weaver to stop being Weaver. Sometimes it was easier to just shut up.
She laughs at the next bit though. She can’t help herself. ”Raging. Sure. If this is raging…” she shakes her head. The conversation had been polite though firm. If Zariah thinks she’s just going to roll over to a bunch of Outlanders who come stomping in and claiming titles that the citizens of Halo never asked for, she may be disappointed. ”I’ve told you why I am upset, Archmage. You have rebutted every point I’ve made, and I have no interest in arguing. When you have lived here long enough, you will perhaps understand me better. I have watched people I love die at the hands of very creature you claim you can keep us safe from. Perhaps you can. But we have no way of knowing that, for we do not know you, or Neron for that matter. It might benefit you to come out of your office and your school and spend time in the streets with the rest of us. Get to know us. Sit in our bars and hunt with the locals and become one of us.”
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Zariah listened quietly as Weaver went on at length, not interjecting, but clearly engaged in what she had to say. Her blank, hazel gaze never wavered, locked on the younger woman's face. When she finished speaking, she waited a few moments, contemplating her words. "You will clearly be surprised to know it, but I have spent time in your bars, trained with your Captain, gone to great lengths to understand and know the people and the place." she said slowly. That had been one change she had made from her time in the Hollowed Grounds. She had made considerable effort to be a face amongst the people, known and spoken of in good regard.
But clearly, that had not been enough for Weaver.
"Tell me then, what I could have done differently." she said, encouraging some kind of feedback she could take to heart. If she pissed off the native Halovians, she would do herself no favors. "I am trying to come to some understanding, Weaver. You are a valued student here, you have great potential, and could help bring about great, substantial change to make your fellow Halovian safer and more comfortable. But if you have an issue with me or my methods, or do not trust my judgement, none of that can come to pass, and this place you clearly love so much will be the poorer for it."
”Good to know,” she says in reply, looking mildly pleased and surprised. Weaver can admit when she doesn’t know something, and certainly it’s possible Zariah’s been out and Weaver hasn’t seen her. Maybe Weaver’s only experiences with Zariah just happened to be particularly bad ones, given that they were off to a hell of a start. Zariah doing nothing obvious while everyone else scrambled to set up her school. Zariah watching her students nearly get impaled to death. You can’t really blame a girl for her bad first impression at this point, can you? ”Guess I missed you around. Clearly you found a better bar than the local tavern,” she says with a bit of amusement, an inside joke if you know the local tavern at all. The booze is piss and the place is dingy as hell and there wasn’t really anywhere else to go.
She is more pleased and surprised though that Zariah doesn’t continue to argue. Instead she asks what else she could do, and Weaver clearly gives the answer some thought before speaking. Because at the end of the day, despite Zariah’s reputation, she’d far rather end up on the same side than against. ”I am glad to know you have been out, and clearly I cannot expect you to be everywhere. Yet, all I know of you are rumors and hearsay. I’m not asking for your secrets, but let your students get to know you too. Show us what you can do. Show us a little of who you are. You will find that many Halovians do not trust on blind faith, and it is hard to follow someone you do not trust.”
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Zariah remained silent for a time, considering Weaver's words and her own carefully. She was clearly more of a see it to believe it sort rather than one who walked on blind faith. A pity but something easily rectified. She leaned back in her chair, eyes still locked on Weaver like a lioness eyeing up her prey. "So your insecurity with the lesson lies with your inability to trust in power you have not seen demonstrated, and to rectify that, a show of power is what you'd require?" she said, no judgement in her tone. This was merely what she had heard, parroting it back to ensure she understood Weaver's qualms and what could be done to assuage them.
Weaver nods at the statement. It seemed like a good compromise. She did not trust Zariah, given all she had heard. Yet at the same time, Weaver was open minded, and she was willing to give a second chance. Perhaps Zariah was not quite the same woman who’d once called the Grounds home. Perhaps she had different intentions, different tactics now. It certainly seemed that way.
”It would go a long way,” she concedes easily enough. It is a start to actually getting to know the Archmage. ”I would like to know who you are, other than simply appointed and trusted by a man I’ve never met.” It is not everything, but it is something, and she does not expect to be given everything. She also doesn’t expect to find much pity in pointing out that dying by ursur tusk is rather a large fear of hers, so keeps that bit quiet. In the end, she wants to know who the other woman is more than she cares about her pain.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Zariah nodded slowly, mulling over the conclusions that had been brought to light by this conversation. Despite her best attempts it seemed she had yet to make her intended impact on the community in Halo.
"I appreciate your candor, Weaver. I will see what I can do to rectify the situation. You are dismissed for now...but do know my door is always open to you, my dear." she said, a small hint of a smile gracing her lips.
