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!
I pray to blades of grass
To find forgiveness in the weeds
Osozo's question let Sam talk about his favourite topic: book restoration. "Well, you see: I try to sort them into several piles. Those that contain outdated text or information are usually the lowest priority, I just mark the sections that are incorrect. Then texts that are simply old and frail come next, because they will usually keep for at least a while longer. After that there is the books that are moulded or otherwise rotting: those I have to work to copy quickly, before they are eaten away." It was always a shame to see a beautiful work be covered in slimy green, though he'd seen it happen more times than he could count.
"I'm sure there's plenty of books on things you don't know in the Atheneum, if you've only just arrived." He smiled kindly, glad to show Osozo the selection if they so wished.
The disinterest in the Greatwood was likely a good thing if it meant the Demi-God would stay out for the time being. "Well, you can get to them both from the Spire portal. I have to say I'm rather partial myself to Torchline...the ocean is beautiful in the moonlight."
Talk of piles and sorting and organization had Osozo's nose wrinkling, just a little bit. It was not the innate sense they'd been hoping to hear about, wasn't the sense of purpose they wanted to learn about. "So you just remake the old? Forever? Have you remade something more than once before?" Then, a pause as they tried to get the next idea lined up to say it properly. "Do you think the book is the same if everything changes?"
There's another laugh, and a slight shaking of Osozo's head, their hair brightening to a light blue. "I wasn't made to read things. I have to experience them." A book was a step below being told about something, a far step below as far as the demi-god was concerned. At least talking to someone was more personal, gave more information than just reading.
The spire portal was well known to Osozo, part of the information they'd been given by the Voice, but ocean was something new, the grin falling in exchange for pure confusion, their brows pulled together tightly. "Where is the ocean? I haven't heard of it."
I pray to blades of grass
To find forgiveness in the weeds
Clearly Osozo was not thrilled by the description of his work and Sam's face fell a bit from his previous enthusiastic explanation, but he continued anyway, nodding. "I have remade some things again when I find the information is incorrect or, if I made them early in my career, that they are not well made: but they tend to be at the bottom of my priorities, since they are not in danger of crumbling away." It was also a task he loathed doing, finding it boring to write the same words as he had only a couple of years prior. "Whether it's the same book...that's...quite philosophical. I'm not sure. It is in the words that the author originally wrote."
Osozo was swiftly going down in his estimations now with their continued put down of literature, though Sam did find himself distracted by the shifting colours of their hair. "The Ocean...is in Torchline? You mentioned the sand yourself. You meant the beach, yes? It's through the portal."
"Are many books in danger of crumbling?" This question is a little more pointed, a little more sly. "I mean, are you usually busy with the books?" There was another interested tilt to their head, the disappointment from moments before melting away with the renewed questions. "Having the same words doesn't make it the same." They protest, brows furrowing. "Taking the soul out of one body and putting it into another doesn't make the same person again, does it?" Not that Sam would know it, but Osozo themself was almost an example of that. Almost.
Confusion only continues to sweep over the Demi-gods face at Sam's answer, brows pulling together and a sharp violet spreading over hair and eyes, the hues almost matching. "There is no water near the sands I know." They hold their hands out like they're holding a book, like they're making an offering. "Snow is here," the fingers on the left hand wiggle, "sand is here," now the right hand, "and in the middle, Caido sits!" They clap suddenly, watching Sam carefully for his reaction.
I pray to blades of grass
To find forgiveness in the weeds
"Well, the Atheneum is very old and while there have been restoration teams before me...there are a lot of books still in desperate need of repair. Even more than I know of in the backs of shelves I haven't explored yet, I imagine." Sometimes at night he tortured himself with thoughts of the tomes that were surely rotting away in forgotten corners of the Atheneum as he laid there. "Right, but a book is very different from a person. The words..would be more like a soul. Or a brain. It's the content, not the physical body...? Does that...make sense?" He'd never been very confident with his philosophical waxing.
Osozo's next words sounded like some kind of strange riddle. Sam leaned forward as if trying to see the 'book', but of course there was nothing there to help illustrate the concept. "Um...You're saying there's...more sand by Halo? Can you go to places not accessible by the portals...?" The Voice had once teleported him away from the Greatwood, so he knew it was possible.
"Do you have a team? Or simply you?" A whole team of people devoted to keeping the Atheneum alive seemed easier to manage than a lone ascended. It brought to mind the image of a buzzing beehive, a well oiled machine, the many making up the whole. "A book is not very different from a person. The soul might be the same, but it can be... read different, if it's bound in gold and leather, or just paper. All people and books are is what other people see." The metaphor here was admittedly getting away from them now, but there was a point wrapped in the centre of all the words Osozo was trying to reach. Trying.
Though there was nothing in them, the Demi-god still held their hands closer to Sam as he leaned in. "That is what I was told by the Voice. Do the portals not reach there yet?" What a strange thing to have been told then, when this particular vista could not be touched yet. "I think I was most excited to go there." There's something wistful in their voice then, but it does ignite a sense of purpose - opening more of the portals.
I pray to blades of grass
To find forgiveness in the weeds
"Well...the Loreseekers do a lot of the research that goes into the books, and there are a few other bookmakers in the town...but I'm certainly the most prolific and I wouldn't say I worked in a team." Most of his work was done in isolation after all, sat in dark rooms lit by candlelight late into the night, carefully copying down ink letter after ink letter. "...You make an interesting point, but the books are all bound as close to the original as I can get them. I often use the same leather or paper if I can, just treated or repaired."
It sounded like Osozo couldn't go to the 'sands' they spoke of, that they just had foresight the others did not: Sam secretly liked this, as it meant his position as portal guardian was still somewhat special. "..No, I certainly don't know of anywhere like that you can reach by the portals. The only sand is Torchline. Do you know any other areas? Anything else we might discover or..or...what the Voice's plans are?" That was likely bold to ask, but he'd suddenly found himself overtaken by curiosity.
"The Loreseekers?" Now that sounded like something Osozo would be interested in, if it was what they were imagining. Though they weren't entirely sure what they were imagining, other than a nebulous mass of knowledge sharing, a more physical form of the transfer they'd received from the Voice. "I didn't think paper or leather could be restored. I thought it all had to be replaced when it was worn out?"
Thin lips purse into a disappointed line, Osozo's head cocking to the side. "I only saw the sands, the trees, and the snow. And I am certain it isn't Torchline." There's a thin sigh heaved through their nose, before the questions pull them out of the mood, the Demi-god leaning in to clap a hand to Sam's cheek. "The Voice wants the portals opened. The whole continent connected, for everyone!" It seemed obvious, but so did many things, when they were said out loud for the first time.
I pray to blades of grass
To find forgiveness in the weeds
"Yes, the Loreseekers. They are Jigano's guild...an organisation dedicated to discovering our history, lore and anything else too." Sam admittedly didn't do a lot of the 'anything else', his speciality being in history and myth, but he was still proud of the work the guild accomplished. As for paper and leather, he shrugged. "Sometimes the leather isn't the problem with a book and I can reuse it. As for paper...there are ways to break it down and recreate it. It's...a pain, but it is possible."
Osozo didn't know of any other new locations other than 'the sand', which was a little disappointing: Sam wondered if The Voice knew more than that.
The sudden clap on his cheek made Sam jump and he blinked a few times at the sudden enthusiasm. "..Right, yes! I know. I just wanted to know more details of the plan.." Gently he pulled Osozo's hand off of his face.
The Loreseekers sounded interesting, a note tucking itself away in Osozo's mind to look into it when they had had the chance to wander and acclimate to the Grounds some. If nothing else, a guild calling itself the Loreseekers should be able to point them in the right direction for answers to their questions. And perhaps illuminate new questions. Already the idea was so exciting they hardly wanted to wait, but there was an order to things.
Disappointment seemed to splash across Sam's face at the admission that they didn't know any other lands, Osozo's lips quirking into a thin, disappointed line. "The plan is spreading the Voice's influence so she can open new portals. What more is there to know?"
I pray to blades of grass
To find forgiveness in the weeds
Osozo's knowledge was beginning to impress Sam less and less as time went on, though he supposed it wasn't fair to expect them to have anything really interesting just because they were a Demi-God. "...Right. I just...I don't know. I wanted to know more Long term...you know, after the portals. What would come then? But...it doesn't matter." Giving Osozo a polite smile he waved a hand.
"Have you got somewhere to stay? ...Do you...need to stay somewhere? I'm not sure if you'd like to sleep or eat or anything. I can show you to town." He offered.
"There is still much of the world to connect to." Osozo offered easily, not concerned about their lack of knowledge, but quietly suspicious of Sam's. They had been given a task, something straightforward, long and overarching, what point was there in looking so far to the future? "I'm sure we'll all learn about what comes next together, as a family." The hand indicates an end to the subject though, to the questions that Sam has, that Osozo cannot offer answers to.
The offer that the ascended makes is considered carefully, head cocking back and forth as colours ripple through their hair, coming and going as frequently as the thoughts. "I do not have a place to stay, but I can find one." Shelter was easy, in a place like this. "I have never slept or ate or anything though. I need to experience them still." They know the path to town, information given by the Voice to make these first steps easier, but... "I would appreciate the guidance." They say brightly, stepping back to give Sam room to take the lead, ready to follow him to town.
