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!
Quanil's always wanted to know. To learn. They've always enjoyed the discovery of something new, and they've felt that learning about Caido was the best way to survive it, despite their parents' time-tested "run and hide" strategy.
They were perhaps pushing things into a whole new kind of danger now.
While talking with Miss Valair, they'd discussed Ludo, with whom she had a... a bond, of sorts. She'd denied it being anything akin to "friendship," but the way she'd discussed Ludo had sounded, to Quanil's ears, very... person-y. Non-god-ly.
Maybe that was just how your brain - or her brain - processed dealing with the divine. Perhaps Quanil had misunderstood; that happened very, very often. But it had sparked a question in them, which wasn't unusual. Lots of things sparked questions in them, but usually the questions faded away into the background or were lost entirely as new subjects and topics of conversation came up, and new questions arose, etc.
This one had stuck with them, and it was purely and simply this: Had the Old Gods, once upon a very, very, very long time ago, been human themselves?
And since they were here in Torchline, and they'd been talking about Ludo specifically, and there was this great shrine to Ludo right here, Quanil had decided to... explore a little.
They weren't stupid enough to ask. That seemed like a good way to get...smote? smitten? smoten? - to make the gods angry. They weren't sure why it would anger the gods to find out they'd once been human - if anything, it would make Quanil feel better about them, personally - but given that the New Gods' ascension to divinity had pissed the Old Gods off to unprecedented levels of... of pissiness, Quanil decided to be careful about this. So, no asking directly, but they wanted to see if there was anything, perhaps in the construction of the shrine itself, that might point to such a thing.
They would have liked an old shrine, more ancient than any written sources. They didn't know much about Torchline yet, so they weren't sure how old this particular shrine was. For now, they walked in and just...wandered, looking at the walls and windows, the structure of the place, peering around for anything that might catch their eye.
For once, Amun's sunny and cheerful disposition was gone. He'd seen the message from Maea. For a moment, he'd thought it had to be a sick joke, some cruelty played by the gods.
Then he'd wept, the fluid streaming down his cheeks in lieu of tears. Wandering aimlessly, he'd stumbled through the portal in the Spire. For a moment he'd just stood there in the mists, having no destination in mind beyond away. Away from the news, away from everyone, away from the reality that Maea was...gone. Far too soon, and beyond his reach forever.
Eventually, he'd stirred. Still crying, he headed through to Torchline, needing the comfort of the ocean. Sobbing, he walked blindly through the crowds, unwilling or uncaring about any danger he might face. He pushed his way through to the docks, mostly just following the downward motion of the slope towards the shore and the water.
In his haste and his grief, he wasn't watching where he was going. So he ran nearly headlong into someone, a stranger, who was apparently examining the buildings of Torchline without a care in the world. Only quick thinking kept him from knocking them down. "Sorry." However, it came out half-choked, and not particularly apologetic.
There wasn't a way to easily know how old or young the building was, but Quanil's eyes were flitting about for details...
...until they got knocked back a bit by a sudden interpersonal collision. They made sure they were still on their feet even as they exclaimed, "No, no, nothing to be sorry about! Probably my fault anyway, and..."
They took in the person's shaken and tear-soaked countenance. "Are you okay? Can I help?" Probably not? They were likely here to pray for some sort of solace, but they had to offer. It was as automatic as... well, as stumbling backwards when you ran into someone.
Nodding distracted at the stranger's response, Amun moved to push past them, still heading for the sea he could see sparkling just below (though that might've been the fluid still springing to his eyes). When they spoke again, though, he paused. Turning just his head, he shook it mutely for a moment.
Then, as his hand clenched and unclenched subconsciously, he faced them more fully. "Do I look okay?" It came out in a quietly despairing and deeply sad tone, and he spread his hands helplessly. "Unless you can bring back the dead, no, you can't help." The Ascended turned to resume his unsteady walk down towards the docks.
"I wish I could. I mean, properly. I read a story once about a wish to bring people back from the dead but... um, well, nevermind.
"But if I could do that, I'd bring back Miss Maea," they said, not expecting a response. They assumed the person would keep going; most people who bumped into Quanil did. They turned back to investigating the walls, raising a hand to feel the texture of them beneath their fingertips. "And Mr. Adam, even though I didn't know him, but his death made Miss Melita sad."
As the stranger spoke about a wish that would bring people back, Amun pressed his lips together. The normally kind and laughing potter's features were twisted into an angry and ugly mask. "Got any wishes lying around?" It came out practically dripping with sarcasm.
However, when the stranger mentioned Maea the Ascended's anger bled out of him. It was replaced by a fresh bout of tears. "You knew Maea?" His voice was raw, and he found himself staring at the horizon again, grief fresh on his features. "She's gone." It was a whisper, meant more for himself than anyone else. Shaking his head as if in denial, he hugged his arms to his chest.
The sarcastic question made Quanil actually turn back to face the stranger. They were too surprised by the fact they were still interacting with them to be upset. Though, honestly, enough people had made sarcastic comments at them to sort of inure them to it by now.
But then... Oh. Oh."I did. I considered her a friend. She was a good person." They weren't sure what to say now, so they smiled a little. "I'm Quanil, of the Loreseekers' Guild. It's always nice to meet someone new, especially if they're friends of Miss Maea's.
"I knew of her before I actually met her. I didn't really get to know her until I ran into her here. Well, not exactly here here, but here in Kaiholo, in Torchline. Is that why you're here, too? To honor her here?"
Amun nodded, at their words, his expression sad. "She was a good person. And a better friend." Unsurprisingly, his voice was quiet and filled with a great deal of sorrow. "We considered each other family." Laughing mirthlessly, he shook his head. It was clear he was heartbroken by her death.
"Amun." That was all, no bow, no friendly greeting, no explanation. Shrugging, he slipped his hands into his pockets. "I guess. I was mostly just trying to get away. Find some comfort in the sun and the sand and the sea." He spoke in a tone that was fully aware of an Ascended enjoying such comforts.
"Oh. I'm even more sorry for your loss then, if she was like family to you, Mr. Amun." As usual, they expected to be corrected if they'd used the wrong form of address.
"I don't want to get in the way of what's comforting to you. I know the first time I saw the sea... well, actually, every time I see the sea, it... calms my brain. And the first time I saw it was with Miss Maea." They took a deep breath, inhaling the strange, salty air of this place. They associated it with her now.
"I watched her walk right out into the sea. She got a large seashell for my sister, Freina, even though she'd never met her. Just to be nice, because she - Freina, that is - was having a hard time.
"The sea must have been very special to her, for you to come here to seek comfort?"
"Just Amun." The correction came out automatically. There was no animosity or even a teasing tone behind it. He was too sad to even mock Quanil's distinctively odd speech patterns.
Listening silently as they recounted their meeting with Maea, the potter turned to face the horizon again. Fluid leaked from his eyes again, but he made no move to wipe it away. "Not exactly." He crossed his arms and sighed.
Going completely still, he didn't move or speak for a while. "The sea is important to me. It was barely above a whisper. "I grew up on it, basically, in my world. And I was hoping it would bring me some comfort now."
Quanil nodded at the correction. They'd remember that, of course.
And after they had babbled a little about Maea, they listened to Mr. Amun talk in turn.
"Oh, you're an Outlander! Was your sea as blue as this one?" they asked, eyes alight with curiosity. Oh, how they loved hearing about the various worlds of the Outlanders! None of this was helping them answer their Question, but that could wait; they'd never expected that to be answered here, now.
Besides, there was someone who knew Miss Maea and who was pained over her loss. Quanil wanted to help them.
Quanil's enthusiasm wasn't particular welcome. Indeed, Amun frowned a bit as they asked about the seas from his world. Looking at the ocean that was so near, he shrugged slightly. "Some of them." Slipping his hands into the pockets of the shorts that were all he knew, he sighed. "I sailed all the seas of my world. Some were blue, yes. Others were every color in the rainbow, and more besides." There was something wistful about his voice, though mostly he was sad and longed for the days when everything was simple.
Wanting to forestall more questions, he glanced at them. "What were you doing before anyway?" He didn't sound all that interested.
Quanil listened with interest, completely unaware that their curiosity was unwelcome. The idea of seas in every color of the rainbow... "Oh, what a sight that must've been."
They were lost in trying to picture it when they were on the other end of a question, for once. "Oh, studying the shrine itself. I have a... curiosity about the Gods, and I was wondering if the way the shrine was built might give me some clues about it: how old the building is, what materials used and why, that sort of thing. Maybe some old carvings, though I haven't found any here yet."
Sighing, Amun nodded. "It was." The response came out slightly more curtly than he'd intended, so he forced himself to smile at Quanil. However, it was obviously not a genuine one.
Glancing at the building, his eyes narrowed slightly. He inspected it for a moment, as if trying to glean the secrets they'd been interested in. "The gods, huh? Any gods in particular?" It came out idly, as if he didn't care one way or another what the answer was.
"How would the building tell you anything about the shrine? Do you even know if they were constructed at the same time?" Again, he spoke in a distracted and slightly disinterested tone.
