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!
As much as she could help it, Morgan did not dwell in the past. It was not productive, rarely did anything for the future and unless it contained some kind of strategy or plan, had little to learn from, despite old sayings. Her own past was typical enough of someone in the city that it had no reason to hold her that much (she was not egotistical enough to think her own traumas and hurts were any more important than the current moment); all of that said, this time of year always brought with it memories.
Her father had been a strong man. Broad, with stern eyes and a thick, bristly beard; scars across his body that told of someone that had survived many fights. The Captain of the Deepfrost Shields brave in more than one way - he had never tossed away his illegitimate daughter. She had been taken in warmly, shown the way of the guardsmen, taught to use a sword. Easily, he could have told the men around him she was no child of his (she had always looked more like her mother), yet instead he had welcomed her in and taught her his ways.
That was, until his job had claimed him. It seemed stupid that after all his great achievements and battles that what would finally kill him would be a robber with a lucky shot, but that was how life was. Unfair, sudden, unexpected.
Kneeling before the memorial made for him in the guards tower, a painting depicting his stoic face and candles still lit beneath (by herself and the few older guards that remembered him) she closed her eyes and sighed, wondering how it was that after all this time, the wound could still smart so when she let herself pick at it. Holding out her hands palm up she whispered words too quiet for anyone else to hear, completely involved in her one sided conversation.
After the incident in Whitebrim, Loren hadn't seen much of Morgan. In fact, the healer hadn't seen much of the administration of Halo: Neron was a ghost, Zariah was keeping her own council as always and Peter...was gone. Normally, Loren would've left the Captain alone, but he had an idea he wanted to run by her.
So he made his way through the hallways, then into the tower that housed the guards. It didn't take long for him to find Morgan, though he slowed to a stop as he saw her kneeling before what was clearly a memorial, presumably to the man in the portrait. Hesitating, the Launceleyn shifted his weight from side to side awkwardly before he side.
Approaching the woman, he cleared his throat. "Captain." Clasping his hands behind his back, he nodded at the portrait. "Who was he?"
Morgan heard someone enter the room but hoped it might be one of her guards, who would know well enough to see what she was doing and leave her alone. At the sound of a throat being cleared behind her she slowly turned with an unimpressed expression on her face to see the intruder, only slightly softening as it turned out to be Loren.
There was a moment's pause, then she sighed and shifted a little to the side so he could better see. "My father. The last Captain of the Guard. An honourable man and a fine Captain - in this time of remembrance, it seems pertinent to visit his memorial." A very flat answer, one that conveyed the facts but no emotions, her voice and face carefully dull as she laid out the words. She did not like to show weakness, especially not before people she did not know well.
"His body was lost to us, so this is the place he is remembered." She explained further, gesturing to the little shrine.
Loren nodded at Morgan's words and glanced at the portrait of her father. Though the healer didn't immediately see much resemblance, it was there if he looked hard enough, in the shape of her jaw and her nose. "I see." Turning to face her, he kept his hands clasped behind his back. "I'm sorry to hear all of that."
Pressing his lips together for a moment, he looked over the memorial once more. "There are a lot of bodies of people I've cared for that I've been unable to retrieve. So I know how hard that can be." He risked a glanced back at the Captain. "If you don't mind me asking, how did he...how did it happen?"
"Mmm." Sorry to hear. He'd asked, hadn't he? Morgan had never seen the point in those little meaningless apologies.
Not answering his question right away she placed her hands on her thighs and stood, gaze lingering for a moment on the portrait before she turned away to face Loren. Recounting the tale of her father's death was hardly what she wanted to do, but neither did she want to seem weak over it, like it was a point of vulnerability (though of course, it was).
"He was responding to reports of a burglary. The thief had quick hands and threw a dagger that landed right. ...Dumb luck, more than anything else. He'd fought in many wars beforehand and been almost unscathed." She shook her head slightly, the only show of the disbelief and pain she still held over the event. "...I was not in the Citadel, when it happened. I did not find out until a few months after. The body had been...taken, when the guards with him went to get back up. I assumed by the time I returned it was a lost chase."
Remaining silent during Morgan's explanation, Loren gave Morgan a sympathetic and understanding smile. "It sounds like he was a brave man." Returning his gaze to the memorial, the healer's eyes took in the Captain's father's features, committing them to memory.
When the Launceleyn next spoke, it was quiet. "Did they ever catch the man who...the burglar? And taken where?" He forced himself to meet her gaze, knowing that she detested any sign of weakness. Indeed, his voice became firmer, and maybe just the slightest bit curious. "What wars? I wasn't aware Caido had wars in the recent past." Indeed, his eyes narrowed slightly. Although he'd been in the barrier, it had been down for a while now and no one else in Halo had mentioned battles, let alone wars.
Morgan nodded just once in agreement. "He was." Every day she tried to imbue her actions with her father's spirit, make moves with his sense of honour and bravery; she often felt that she fell short, but the thought of him made her continue to try.
She stepped away from the memorial to lean against the wooden lockers on the wall, as if trying to distance herself away from the mourning space now. "No." Often, Morgan had fantasied about finding the person that had thrown that knife, but she knew now the case was cold indeed; there was little chance of ever finding the culprit. Loren's second question made her frown because she felt she'd already given the answer, but she permitted him this one repeat: "I don't know. We never found it, as I said: when I returned to Halo, there was no knowing where they had taken him."
As for the wars...a rare moment of embarrassment flushed over her cheeks and she shook her head just slightly. "I apologise. Wars is not the right word - not when the world is so much larger now. I refer to the fights with those who are now living in the town in the mountains...their exile was bloody and violent and there were many...battles, perhaps, is a better term. A local conflict but certain one that killed many men on both sides." She'd seen her father come home covered in blood - sometimes his own, sometimes not.
As Morgan spoke, Loren nodded in understanding. "Again, I'm sorry." Although his brow had furrowed, and he was slightly confused, he managed to press his lips together to prevent himself from asking an intrusive and unwelcome question.
As the Captain went on to explain what she meant by wars—which weren't wars at all, but skirmishes—he moved to lean against the wall by the memorial. "I see." He smiled faintly at her, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I suppose it is a testament to your father, you, and your men that we haven't seen such skirmishes recently. Or if we have, that the casualties haven't needed my services."
Loren's smile, which didn't reach his eyes - there were a lot of things it could mean and Morgan wasn't sure how to read it. Was he laughing at her? Was he thinking their fights little and local? Or was he just trying to be polite? She'd often wondered if her keen strategic eye had ruined her social abilities; she certainly found it hard to engage in casual conversation.
"The exiles have mostly kept to themselves...though of course, they have begun to...eat." She wrinkled her nose, not explaining further; Loren already knew and she didn't want to expand on that if she didn't have to. "I worry that with the portals we will see much more conflict in the coming weeks and months. Perhaps I am being paranoid, but it is better to be cautious. Such sudden openness, so many unknowns..." Morgan shook her head.
Grimacing at Morgan's words, Loren nodded slowly in understanding. "Do you think freezing their food storage will cause them to seek...sources farther afield?" His expression and voice were both troubled by the possibility.
Brow furrowing as she expressed her concern, he ran a hand through his hair. "I wouldn't worry about attacks from the Hollowed Ground or the Fae in the Greatwood. Neither have any interest in expanding their territory. And from what I can tell, the Torchliners, while opportunistic and violent, aren't organized enough to mount an attack." He sighed. "No, I'm far more worried about treasure seekers. And...other dangers."
With that, he pressed his lips together. "How much do you know about LongNight in the Hollowed Ground?"
Loren's concern was one that had come to Morgan's mind as well, but she shook her head. "They'd have trouble getting into the Citadel. I have a constant guard rotation on the gates, and a patrol in the streets...as for anywhere else...well. I hope they have similar protection." As far as she was concerned if other regions could not guard their own cities well enough to protect against a few cannibals, it was their own fault. "I followed Neron's orders on the matter. If he has more later, I will update our response."
"Treasure seekers? After the mageglass, you mean?" Morgan wasn't sure if she believed in the legendary material hidden in the mountains, but she knew plenty of people went out looking for it.
His question about Longnight was something she'd never considered at all. "Nothing, really. Is it different from Longnight in Halo?"
Loren nodded slowly at Morgan's words. "True enough. But there are lone hunters who might be at risk." Tilting his head to one side, his brow furrowed. "Do you think posting a warning notice might be a good idea?" His voice was out quietly, but firmly.
At the mention of Neron, the healer raised his eyebrows. "And have you heard from the Warden recently?" The question came out with a bit of an annoyed edge, so he took a deep breath.
Nodding again at her inquiry, he clasped his hands behind his back. "I know many who would go chasing a rumor, no matter how ridiculous it is or how dangerous it might be." His tone indicated how little he thought of those who would needlessly risk their lives for the barest chance at power.
Hesitating, he shifted his weight from one side to the other. "Yes. Yes it is." Pausing, his eyes studied her features for a long moment. "There's a week of darkness, yes, but there are also monsters. They can impersonate people, and kill them instantaneously. They're attracted to light and sound, and can only be repelled by magical light."
Morgan shrugged. "I see no harm in doing so, but I assure you any hunters used to adventuring out into our Tundra have experience with all kinds of dangers." She'd bumped into plenty of such people on her own journeys around the mountains and knew most of them were not to be trifled with.
She noted Loren's apparent irritation with the mention of Neron. "Be careful how you speak of the Warden. He might be your brother, but he is our leader first. But...no. I haven't. I need to seek him out." Neron's willingness to let her get on with her own missions was appreciated, but sometimes she did need some more direction; it was hard to carry out the wishes of someone that did not make their wishes known.
"Mm. I've spent much time in the mountains and I have never seen any of this mythical Mageglass...perhaps I was not looking for it, but I don't feel that it exists." A shrug: this could well be something she was eventually proven wrong about, but she wasn't overly bothered.
The news about Longnight though...well, that was something indeed. Morgan raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes, never having heard about these monsters before. "..Do you..have any reason to suspect these monsters may arrive here?"
Loren just raised his eyebrows slightly at Morgan. "I know that. But forewarned is forearmed." Although his tone was polite, his posture had grown slightly stubborn.
Narrowing his eyes, he crossed his arms. "He was my brother long before he was Warden. And if he is unwilling or unable to discharge his duties, I'd like to know the reason why." Still, his words came out evenly, without the trace of the annoyance he'd displayed earlier. "Do tell me if you manage to speak with him. And feel free to communicate my insubordinate and insolent tone, if you feel it is necessary." It was clear he wasn't particularly worried about that possibility.
Lowering his arms, he looked away from her. "There are too many rumors about it. Surely there has to be some truth to the myths." That, at least, he was sure of, not least because he knew where one such deposit might be located.
Hesitating, he finally shook his head. "Quite the opposite, in fact. I do not think they can leave the Hollowed Ground. But our people might wander into them unsuspecting, and there may be an exodus from the Ground that spills over into Halo." Pausing, he studied her features for a long moment. "If I may, I recommend turning the post out in the Fangs into something more permanent, with a wall, just in case it becomes necessary."
