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!
Whether or not she was displeased with the arrangement or lack of information didn’t really bother him; content in his reticent countenance, in the mutual exchange, in defiance and sedition. She could have her sneers – he gave no reaction to it, as stony as the rest of the ramparts and cliffs refusing to bow to the water down below. He arched his brow, then nodded at her indication – those obviously not granting more without his own sagacity fostered back. His eyes watched the ministrations of her spear; if she intended to look threatening, he wasn’t bothered. Instead his mind reeled to the possibilities of stories, of customs, of legends, of old gods embedded within their tomes. “There are rumored to be Merfolk.” His chin jutted out towards the ocean again, deep below its fathoms; perhaps the Fae would find some sort of comfort in another realm of people isolated or distant.
Continuing to practice her forms, Alina looked for all the world like she was ignoring the man and his unicorn. The huntress' jabs and sweeps had started slowly, though they were gradually picking up steam. She completed one set of strikes, then paused. "Rumors hardly count as information." The words came out tauntingly.
What she didn't tell him was that the Fae already knew at least a little of the merfolk; both were natural residents of Caido, and beloved of the old gods, and the waterways that occasionally carried traders from Torchline even before the portals were reactivated were natural pathways for the sea-dwelling folk.
Pursing her lips together she finally resumed her practice. "There are books about magic in the Undercroft as well." It came out idly and in a distracted tone.
He surveyed her mid-air strikes, the rendered performance of movement and motion, before snickering at her first response, not rising to her taunts. A shrug of his shoulders; he had nothing else to go off of with the Merfolk, but it’d been better than nothing at all – books about invocations in the Undercroft, unfortunately inaccessible to his reach. But the notions there curled and coiled, because of the struggles he, and several others had lately – taking a shot in the dark. “Anything about creation magic?”
Then back to his proclamations and knowledge. “There are also the pink dolphins, encantandos.” As for what they could do was likely anyone’s guess – not about to hasten some sort of revelation any further, especially when Amalia had recently acquired such a shift. “Otherwise, I only know of the L’ma,” but he had a feeling he might have seen her in that midst of chaos and contortions.
Alina paused in her exercises. Snorting, she pointed the butt of her weapon at the man. "It's magic, isn't it?" Her derision was clear. "Yes we have information on creation magic." Although she was confused about the question, she still answered him.
Narrowing her eyes at the mention of pink dolphins, she glanced out at the waters again. However her gaze was brought back to him when he brought up the L'ma. "I was there when it tried to escape." Already, she sounded impatient, and she began to fly higher. "I guess that's all then." She kept departing, though if he called her back she'd paused momentarily.
Then, perhaps at some point, they’d have answers about the alterations to creative faculties. Otherwise, he had nothing left to offer her – requiring more and more time within this world to parse through sands, dunes, surf, and swell. Her impatience remained visibly clear, and since he hadn’t prompted or invited her to join him, he had no issue with her departure either. A subtle nod was granted, and if he were more of a undermining fiend, he might’ve blatantly handwaved her away. Instead, he and Zuriel resumed their prior stances (the unicorn watching as the Fae disappeared from sight), and the Sword miring his concentration back upon the earthen stones. In absence of anything else to pull his mind away from the task, he watched as the rocks began to pulse, shake, and shudder, before scattering once more. Thereafter, he continued to apply that same endurance, fortitude, and might into his wake, until it was time for them to leave as well.
{-FIN}
under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed
