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!
There was a hesitation before Amalia answered and Sam wondered if she was suddenly going to change her mind; she seemed less willing than him to shed their identities and just talk. Still, she eventually did give him an answer, one that he was glad to hear, but that made him look off to the side with a little wrinkle of his nose. "I don't like honey. Though maybe I just need to try it in your scones...why are they your favourite?"
Luckily she seemed to pick up on his idea to get to know each other on other merits, and he gladly answered her question. "Well, when I was 17 I started spending more time out of the house and Cornelius, the old book seller in the market, would talk to me." A smile grew on his face, soft and sad. "He asked me if I wanted to learn his trade, because he was old and had no children to teach, and I had little else to do, so I agreed. He let me stay in his home, learn his skills and eat his food as long as I worked hard." It had been the only true kindness he'd experienced in his earlier life and it still brought him close to tears to think of it now, the pure gratitude he felt.
"...Of course, he died a while ago now. But I've found I actually love the craft of making books myself and it keeps my mind occupied. So...I doubt I'll ever stop making them." Even with his life so busy he had only paused for a little while.
Part of being alive is wishing that you weren't sometimes
Of course he doesn't like honey. Amalia nearly scoffs, holding the amusement by some minor miracle. Instead she shrugs, looking at her hands. "My grandmother used to make scones with me every morning. They were her favorite. And Deimos planted the lavender bushes around the shop." Her cheeks color, suddenly embarrassed, and pushes a lock of hair back. "And, y'know... They taste good."
Amalia nods slowly, remembering the old bookmaker and his stall. She'd loved it as a child, stopping in to try and read books of lore while her mother wasn't looking. That Cornelius had been a friend to Sam when he needed one most warms her a little, despite the guilt of her own absence.
There is no question for her to follow, so she thinks it fair to ask another. "Do you ever write books yourself? Or... Anything?"
"Oh, I remember your grandmother, yes." They'd not ever exchanged many words, but he remembered seeing her around the bakery. Hearing that Deimos had planted bushes...it seemed out of character for the warrior and he smiled at the thought, wondering if it would be too much to inquire about her relationship. Eventually he decided to do it - they were trying to get to know each other, after all. "I don't know Deimos very well. What is he like?"
He had tried to write his own stories in the past, but he had never been especially good at it; he had always struggled to find endings. "I write guides to things, sometimes. I've recently done one on the flora around the Hollowed Grounds...it's downstairs, I could show you, if you like...?" Clearly anxious, he couldn't quite meet Amalia's eye as he suggested it.
Part of being alive is wishing that you weren't sometimes
Everyone remembers her grandmother. Amalia smiles a little despite herself, always brightening at the memory of the old woman. Though the question about Deimos catches her off guard. "Uh... He's generous. And brave, and kind. He'll, he'll always help others and never asks for anything in return. And he's good to me." Wrapping her arms around herself, Amalia shrugs a little awkwardly, her narrow cheeks somewhat flushed. "How about you? Anyone, um, in your life?"
She perks up at his mention of guides, curious as to what he might want to guide people on. "For Outlanders?" The mention of them being downstairs and the invitation to see them has her nodding, already pushing away from the bookshelf, happy to move and spend some of her anxious energy thus. "Yeah, I'd... I'd like that."
Amalia's starry description of Deimos made Sam smile; it seemed she saw a different, softer side of the man than others did. "I'm glad you have him. He...he's quiet, but he was nice to me, a couple of Deepfrosts ago." Back then he'd been so bad at speaking to people those that had shown him patience had stuck especially in his mind.
As for himself? "Oh, um..no, well..sort of? It's complicated. I'm...casually seeing Loren, but not anything with a name to it." He held up his hands, not wanting Amalia to get the impression he was in anything like a committed relationship with the Summoner. It still felt odd to describe the arrangement, Sam long having been a romantic, but that was how it was.
Standing up to guide her downstairs, he shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, for anyone, really. I'm sure there are plenty of Naturals who don't know about our plantlife around here too." He hadn't known that much prior to researching the book.
Walking down the stairs, they would come to a table covered in pages, ink, tools, everything a bookbinder could need - and in the middle, a closed, finished tome with a careful pattern of leaves intertwining with stems cut into the leather. "Here. It..took me a few months." He told her, suddenly a little anxious about showing his work.
Part of being alive is wishing that you weren't sometimes
Whatever happiness talking about Deimos may have inspired turns quickly to blinking disbelief as Sam names his latest Beau. "Loren?" the Shield repeats, incredulous, half expecting Sam to laugh and say it's a strange joke. The raised hands do little to deter her. "You- he- Sam, he's a mess. And what about Remi? He can't-" The lines of her face tell a story of disbelief and doubt. This seems like a recipe for disaster.
Still reeling, Amalia follows Sam down the stairs to the Loreseekers Guild. The comment about Naturals not knowing much entices a laugh, at least: "Yeah, I've forgotten most of what my mom taught me," she admits ruefully.
At the bottom of the steps Amalia stops, taking in the scene with wide, fascinated eyes. "Oh, wow." There is some reverence to her as she steps forward, hand hovering uncertainly over the beautifully bound tome. "You made this? It's... Wow, Sam, it's beautiful. May it?" Her youth shines through as she looks back at Sam, eagerly waiting for permission to open up the book.
Amalia's surprise at Loren's name made Sam wince; initially he assumed she'd think he wasn't good enough for the Launceleyn, or maybe that an Ascended shouldn't be with someone not following the Voice...but it seemed her worry was something else entirely. "He has problems like anyone else, but he's sweet to me and I think he's doing his best." Honestly, he wasn't sure why everyone had so many issues with Loren; so far the man had been wonderful(just wait til next week sam).
As for Remi, Sam gave her a sideways look. "I don't care how Remi would feel about it. Why shouldn't Loren and I be together? He doesn't own us, and frankly I think it's very immature that he thinks he has any say in who we see." Maybe it wasn't wise to say this when he was trying to make good with Amalia, but...this particular issue really rubbed him up the wrong way.
When they reached the basement at least Amalia had something to be pleased with him about. He beamed as she praised his work, nodding. "Of course, it was made to be read." Inside she would find first an index then on each page a carefully copied drawing of each plant then information on each; when it grew, in what conditions, what it could be used for. "It took me a while to find out all I needed to. Of course, over time some of it will be proven wrong, so I'll have to make another eventually." He shrugged. It was part of the job.
Part of being alive is wishing that you weren't sometimes
Sam's arguments aren't particularly convincing, causing the Shield to worry her lip further. "I doubt he'd say anything like that," she counters, shaking her head at the portrayal of Remi. "But it might hurt him, and I thought you were friends? And Loren... I don't know." Trailing off, she rubs her wrist, not sure where her rights to protest begin and end. It all seems like a terrible idea to her.
"Just... be careful. I wouldn't want you to get hurt." She's looking back at the ceiling, not Sam, but the sentiment is sincere. Opposite sides they may be on, but the Ascended is her family now. Amalia may be allowed to fight him, but she will also fight for him... in matters not diametrically opposed to her morality and understanding of the world.
At least the book is a safe topic, something they can both enjoy with abandon and genuine delight. For the first time Amalia fees her guard truly slipping, falling away with each page she turns as gingerly as she might handle a butterfly's wing. "My mother would have loved this," the baker remarks absently, pausing to read through a page on the medicinal properties of nettle. "It'll help a lot of people, having this information. Did.. did Evie help you?"
Amalia's doubt immediately drew a response of "Well, he did." from Sam, something he regretted a second later; he'd wanted to stay quiet about his accidental meeting with Remi in Rae's Fingers. "Me and Remi...are certainly not friends anymore. It's all very complicated." And he was sure Amalia would likely take Remi's side in the matter, if her track record with him was any indication.
As for him getting hurt though, her concern made him smile and he shook his head. "I won't. I can tell he's a good man...Loren, I mean. He's trying his best and I want to give him a chance." People had given him a chance, after all. When he could see so much good in the Launceleyn's heart, how could he turn away?
The admiration for his book was a pleasant reprieve from these topics and he began to feel quite flustered as Amalia continued to praise it. "Oh, um, no. I got the information from other books in the Atheneum in bad condition. The bits that seemed out of date I asked someone in the market for. Me and Evie..." He tilted his head side to side. "..We're not in a bad place, but it's a little odd."
Same as this, really.
Part of being alive is wishing that you weren't sometimes
She doesn't say anything in response to Sam's revelations about Remi, storing her questions away for later. They're straying far from the purpose of getting to know each other, and despite her reservations, Amalia truly does want to find some common ground with Sam.
And they seem to find it in his book, her fingers stroking over diagrams, his voice flustered as he explains. No help from Evie, which earns a raised eyebrow, the Shield glancing back at her brother. "Odd how?" With Evie and Loren both in Halo, Amalia imagines the twins see each other fairly often - more than the sisters, at least.
Or does Sam even know about Evie being in Halo? Because if he did, he would have to know about her being in the Academy, and being Abandoned, and as far as she is aware Amalia is one of very few to be privy to that secret. Had she ever told Sam? Biting her lip, the girl searches for words for a feeling of guilt that suddenly sits on her throat. "I'm sorry if... if Evie and I being so close affected your relationship. If you two weren't as close because of it."
Amalia said nothing more about Remi, which was probably for the best. While Sam felt a need to purge the various roiling emotions he had about the man still inside him...this wasn't the place for it. He'd not let Remi ruin his chances with his sister.
As Amalia stroked her fingers over the diagrams Sam watched closely, irrationally worried that he might have somehow left some wet ink there to be smudged, even though the book had been closed for a day now and no mark remained. The question distracted him a little and he glanced up to meet Amalia's eyes, then shrugged. "Just...awkward, I suppose. I think...you and I have more in common than me and Evie do. Still, we're trying."
He was not at all expecting the apology that arrived after and he was quiet for a moment as he considered it. Had Amalia and Evie being close ruined their relationship? "Well...thank you, but...I don't think we'd have been close regardless. I spent a lot of time on my own and our parents loved to pit me and Evie against each other. Evie had other friends too...and I didn't." He shrugged. "So it's not your fault. Don't worry about that." Sam gave her a reassuring smile.
Part of being alive is wishing that you weren't sometimes
The idea that they have anything in common elicits a very self-unaware eyebrow raise, skepticism and amusement in her face. "I don't know... You're both passionate, and guarded. And very invested in your interests. And talented." She turns back to the book, absent-eyed. "And you both want to belong to something bigger. You both want family. To stop feeling alone."
Amalia, of course, wants these things too.
Still, she's a little relieved that he doesn't blame her for the rift, if unconvinced. "Your parents sound awful." For all her difficulties with Rishima, at least Amalia could trust her mother. And she'd always had her Nani to smooth things over.
Her hands rise from the book to wrap around her chest; the girl is suddenly quite tired. Not looking up at Sam, she runs a hand through her hair. "I should... Should get back to the bakery. But this was... Nice. Um." Floundering, Amalia blushes and shrugs. "Maybe... Maybe before too long we can do it again. Maybe dinner at the bakery? Evie could come too. It'd be a family meal." Obviously. Woefully awkward, Amalia trails off, looking to all the world like she might flee at any moment.
Amalia listed the ways he was like Evie and Sam thought they were rather...general things: he could see far easier the ways he and Amalia were alike. "Right, but you and I...we're both quiet and like stories, we are dedicated to our Goddesses, we are dedicated to our crafts - you're just as invested in your baking and your work for Safrin as we might be books or plants." It was a little awkward to say all this, but it was meant and he felt glad he was saying it. Now that he and Amalia were bound by the ties of family, it was important to bring attention to the connections between them.
He laughed at Amalia's statement and nodded. "That's a way to put it." It was surprising to think that she wasn't able to see it as a child, but he supposed they were able to keep up better appearances outside of the home.
It seemed Amalia found these awkward encounters as tiring as he did as she was quickly making her excuses to go; Sam just smiled and nodded, honestly glad they wouldn't be prolonging things longer than necessary at this stage. "Dinner. Wow, um, yes. Alright. I'll bring some wine." It had been a long time since he'd eaten anything close to an actual meal, but he didn't see why not. With the date agreed, he walked Amalia out of the Atheneum, wondering if this would someday be a memory of when things were distant.
{FIN}
Part of being alive is wishing that you weren't sometimes
