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!
A couple of minutes before ten am on the dot - Wessex rounds the corner to the benches by the entrance to the Snowcloak. She’d done a lot of thinking in the space between their encounter, more or less trying to talk herself in to keeping her cool in the face of blatant racism. It’s a battle she’s fought a hundred times, a battle she’s damn tired of fighting, and yet… this is her job, isn’t it? In a way? Sighing to herself, the Wraith wraps an unnecessary cloak around herself before sitting on a bench and waiting for the Captain.
Part of her doubts the woman will even show up. The other half knows she will, because whether she likes it or not, Morgan is like Wessex. They’re soldiers who keep their word.
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off
Unfortunately for Wessex, Morgan was in an even worse state of mind when it came to the Ascended now than she had been before, after the reveal that her leader was one of the Voice's 'chosen'. Still, she had made a commitment and she set off to arrive on the dot at 10, thinking of this more as a chance to interrogate Wessex about the details of her race rather than the peace-reaching discussion it was perhaps meant to be.
Marching up to Wessex she gave a quick nod then sat next to her, one leg crossed over the other and her hands clasped together over one knee. "Good morning. Thank you for coming to see me." There was no point starting out hostile, even if she felt that way (and it was probably coming out in her clipped tone, but she was trying).
"Is there anything you want to tell me to begin with?" She asked, keen to get down to business right away.
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure, what I stand for
Morgan embodies briskness and the cold sharpness that is Halo, Wessex thinks to herself as the Captain arrives. She gives a nod in greeting, still stuck in the comparisons between this one and Weaver and Noah. There’s a common thread that she’s come to enjoy, but the way it manifests in each is fascination to observe. “And thank you for waiting another day for this conversation.” Right. Start out with politeness. My, but she’s having a number of these conversations lately - perhaps this one will go better than the rest, but Wessex ain’t holding her non-existent breath over it.
As for where she might want to begin, there’s a brief furrow of her brow before she lights up. “I suppose I should start with that I’m not trying to persuade you to like Her. Or me. I’ve got a bit of a unique perspective, which I’m happy to share, but if you have specific questions we can also stick to those.” Shrugging, she turns a little more to Morgan and waits for the first - or first couple - of questions.
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off
Wessex's polite and professional tone did her more favours than she would realised and Morgan tried to take an inward deep breath, remember that this woman was not Neron; she might have a chance to reason and make an ally here, or at least pretend to: she was unsure it was possible for her to be convince the Ascended were not a threat by now.
"Well, I can tell you right now I will not like your Goddess. I do not like any of the Gods." She stated, voice very sure of this. "As for you, it will depend on how this goes." A ghost of a smile was on her lips for a moment before she went quiet to listen to Wessex's proposal. A unique perspective, she said: given that Morgan had only spoken to two Ascended so far and Wessex was one of them, she was hardly awash in opinions to do with it anyway.
"Tell me of your unique perspective. Though my main question, should you wish to answer that instead, is: what makes the Ascended a race and not a cult, if what differentiates you is a choice to believe and follow in the Voice?" Hopefully Wessex would understand her question, the one that had been going around her head for days.
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure, what I stand for
The Wraith snort-chuckles. “That’s fine. I don’t like any of the other ones either. Even Eirachi’s a bitch.” Caido she might like. Mort probably comes after that. Vi and Rae she’s indifferent about but hold a bitter resentment for their prison. The heralds can fuck right off. And apparently there are Gods of seasons too. Who knows what the others are like. Shrugging, she settles into the bench for story time.
“I’m the only Natural who’s died and been reborn. As far as I know. I’m the only Natural I know of who’s ruled and actually taken care of my own people. Then willingly gave it up. Most of what I’ve done has been a reaction to growing up in the hellhole that was the Hollowed Ground and feeling more or less abandoned by Gods who told us we had to sacrifice ourselves for the good of the world. We had no choice in the much of anything. Except for this,” One hand indicates herself, her body, and all the changes that came with it.
“And we all have a choice, don’t we? To follow the Old Gods. Or the New. Or none at all. If you’re asking about what makes a race, then it’s truly only the Accepted or those born with Magic. People choose to Attune or Ascend. Look at the Attuned - they can even talk amongst themselves without us hearing it and that seems pretty culty and insular to me.”
She pauses and then looks at Morgan. “If you’re going to apply certain criteria, you have to apply it to all, not just a selective group.”
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off
Morgan let out a quiet huff-laugh at Wessex's opinion of Eirachi: while she had more respect for the spirit (unaware that she was a Goddess), she was still less fond of her than the nameless energies that lived in the world around them. At least they were in agreement for their dislike of the Old Gods, even if they disagreed on the new.
She listened attentively to Wessex's story. That she had died and come back: a concept that made Morgan shiver with how unnatural it was rather than be impressed at all. Hearing that she was the 'only Natural' to lead was odd though: "There was a governor in Torchline that was a natural. And while we did not have an official leader here, Halo was managed by Naturals for many years." Until recently, and she had opinions on that too, but that was beside the point for the moment.
Not having grown up in the Hollowed Grounds she couldn't speak on what that experience would be like, though she wondered if Wessex knew the barrier had been the fault of The Voice in the first place.
What perhaps might have surprised Wessex was that Morgan, when she thought on it, agreed with her final point. "You're right. In fact, I'd make the same argument for the Attuned. It is a choice that has been made, and our city is right to, if we choose, exile those who have made that choice, as we did the exiles that live in Whitebrim. The Attuned, for the moment, are not causing us any harm." Predicting Wessex would say the Ascended weren't either, she added: "I have heard the Ascended brought a Blight upon the Hollowed Grounds. That your Goddess is keen to convert anyone she can. Surely can see why we would consider this suspicious? A potential threat?"
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure, what I stand for
Ah. Now we're getting down to it, aren't we. Wessex raises a brow. “The Governor in Torchline was a puppet, from what I hear. Perhaps the number of Outlander rulers should alarm you more than the Ascended?"
“There was a Blight, yes. No one died, though, unlike during droughts that Rae’s refused to fix, diseases that run rampant, or even the Mud Monster made out of Rae’s Memory Snow. Did you hear how many children that thing killed?” Gesturing to Halo and then a vague ‘out there’ to Torchline. “There will be no Blight in Halo or Torchline or any other part of Caido." That 'bug' has been fixed, but saying it is probably pointless. "Where did you hear she was recruiting?” Wessex chuckles at the notion of the Goddess or her children actively going out to try and ‘convert’ people. “Couldn’t you say the same of the Old Gods with the Outlanders? Or any who choose to Attune?” Making a bit of a face at Morgan, as if you say >you’re smarter than that (or is she?), the Wraith then looks out to the frosted expanse of the city.
“The Voice doesn’t Ascend anyone who doesn’t want to Ascend. And how, precisely are the Ascended harming Halovians? Threatening them? Or are you looking for an excuse to do something because you’re prejudiced?”
Because therein lies the rub. The Captain seems to want to do something without any evidence of harm.
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off
"I am no keener on the Outlanders. I would happily have all our leaders be Naturals who understand our history and values." Morgan stated without hesitation, not caring if this visibly and obviously pitched her against Neron: Wessex had to know she wasn't fond of him already, after all.
As for the crimes of the Old Gods, she nodded along to that without much trouble. "I am not aligned to the Old Gods. I understand they are flawed as well. In fact, I struggle with our leaders being overly devoted to any God. It will cloud their judgement when they should be thinking foremost of their people." Morgan had found it entirely possible to lead a life in Halo without depending on the Gods and didn't understand why more people didn't try it. A life not beholden to anyone was the best of all.
"I have not 'done anything' yet. I am just telling you my thoughts and concerns plainly so we can have a truthful discussion." There was no point covering over her true feelings. "If the Voice is not actively recruiting, then what is it that attracts people to her? Average people? Not yourself, who was brought into it through death."
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure, what I stand for
“So you say. But I would pay good money to see you have this kind of discussion, using the exact same language with Safrin’s chosen.” Insinuated in the dryness of the words is the Wraith’s disbelief that the Captain would spend any sort of energy doing the same with others. As far as Wessex is concerned, Morgan is a hypocrite and more.
With a shake of her head, she means to dismiss the last question, in part. “I think you misunderstand. I came to Her as a normal person. The disease that took my mother and sister was coming for me, in me, and I wasn’t ready to leave this world yet. So I traded an inevitable death for life. Then was stupid and actually died and was remade. But again, I ask - what makes someone want to live part of their lives as an animal? One they don’t necessarily get to choose, at that. Fear, devotion, frustration, wanting more out of life. Pick a reason. Feeling abandoned by the Old Gods. Wanting protection. The end of physical addictions?” Throwing out the last one as an actual remedy to destructive behavior she wonders if Morgan has considered that it might not all be bad.
But that’s probably not what the other woman is getting at. Wessex surmises that what she’s actually talking about is what makes people change and the answer will only be the same. What makes someone want to fly when humans aren’t meant to fly?
In a bit of a turn, and it’s a gamble to go on the offense, the demigod continues mildly. “Ask your people how I’ve helped feed them. Aren’t I joining you to hunt the cannibals? You may disagree with the Voice, but the Ascended who’ve decided they like Halo enough to be here frequently - and that’s about two of us, at this point - have been nothing but helpful.”
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off
"Again: if I noticed such a sudden increase in those people, if they were converting those within our walls, if their changes came with such significant effects, then I would take them to task with no issue or hesitation." Morgan said, now becoming a little frustrated. She did not see herself as a common bigot but someone assessing a threat like any other.
Morgan had always been taught to accept death when it came, to greet it knowing it had come at the right time. While she could understand the desire to delay it, defeat it...she did not respect it. It seemed cowardly. "..Do you know of any Ascended who have joined to defeat physical addictions? And given your need to drink blood or 'fluid' from your Goddess..could you not say you were just swapping one for the other?" She didn't see a great deal of difference between a drug habit and the insatiable thirst the Ascended had for blood.
"Oh, you are helpful. I will not deny that. You are helping us defeat the problems in Whitebrim." The sentence was very loaded with an obvious but. "That is how these things work. There are always benefits, always good points. To obscure, to draw people in. It's also worth you knowing that I am, along with many people in the Citadel, less happy with Neron's contribution than you seem to think."
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure, what I stand for
“There’s a sudden increase of Abandoned in the Citadel - Zariah and her children, Loren, Evie. Those in the Aracane Academy. But that’s what you are, isn’t it? So it’s okay.” She scoffs, unable to pretend any more. “That’s far more than myself and the one person who decided - by himself - to make a change. And how is the need to drink a singular thing worse than the need to eat? If you’re calling needing something to function an addiction then by all means, you’re addicted to food.” Wessex’s tone has turned a little sharper now, throwing Morgan’s inane questions right back at her.
“You know what Zariah is and what she’s done. You know her nature. You’ve had warning after warning, and yet when it comes to who you’re actually concerned about, it’s a small number of people who’ve made no move to threaten you or yours. Who don't want anything you're accusing them of.” Not yet, at least.
“But making your own power better by keeping her around is somehow okay? Do you realize how that sounds? How is being able to withstand the cold naturally worse than the Arcane Academy’s little bribe? It’s a similar choice, Captain.” She’d made hers, and in Wessex’s mind, she had little integrity left to stand on. “Quick to condemn, except when it comes to what benefits you.” Just like the Grounders. Ah, but she can't expect anything else from the poor, brainwashed Naturals. There are a few good eggs, but not many. The Wraith stands and looks down at the freckled woman, shaking her head.
“Don’t delude yourself. You’re a bigot with questions that are thinly veiled accusations and you’re here so you can say you tried, and it failed, better move on to plan B.” Isn't that right? For Morgan’s phrasing, her words have betrayed her. It may not have been in specifics, but Wessex caught on.
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off
Morgan was silent for Wessex's long tirade this time, though one eyebrow did slowly raise. Did...Wessex think she liked Zariah? She supposed she hadn't mentioned it and to the outside eye, it might look like her inclusion in the college and the presence of both of them in the council was approval. "Believe me, I am far more than concerned about Zariah Launceleyn. If I could change one thing about those working in the palace...even with my thoughts on the Ascended, I might have her leave first. What's worse is the way Neron and Loren cower in fear of her as if she were anything more than a petulant child with over-imbued powers."
Wessex stood and Morgan watched her flatly. She could call her a bigot all she liked, but Morgan still looked out for the people of the Citadel first and foremost, and saw it as her duty to assess any threat. "You are very sensitive to the kinds of questions you must regularly have about your choice. More will come in the coming years."
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure, what I stand for
“And yet despite your concerns about Zariah… here you sit, with me, still unable to tell me why the Ascended are a threat to Halo.” She shakes her head slowly, in pity and condescension. This woman, for all that she might be a Captain, isn’t very bright if she can't back up her claims.
If it weren’t for their position in the Citadel, Wessex might have hit her with a biopulse then and there. Stabbed her, let her bleed out into the cold air, the red, red, red of her life congealing on the ice. The Wraith already knows what her next step is. Several steps, actually. She shrugs at Morgan’s comment. Sensitive? Perhaps. Maybe the questions would come. Maybe not. Maybe Morgan wouldn’t live to see them asked. Who knows. “What makes you uniquely suited to say who and what is a threat?” What proof does she offer of her abilities, other than a title? Which really, denotes only a physical prowess, saying nothing on her critical thinking skills.
If she wants a discussion, then let’s having a fucking discussion.
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off
"Potential threat. Honestly, if you were in my position and this situation were beginning to arise, would you not want to investigate it? I would be very poor at my task if I did not try to stop what seems to be a quickly advancing issue in our Citadel, at least until we as a people have a better handle on it." The people of Halo had no idea what Ascending meant, she was sure: not the average citizen, who might easily be swayed by the offered delights of the choice.
No idea that Wessex was considering violence (Morgan was proficient in physical combat, but did not resort to it unless necessary) she coolly watched as the woman turned back to ask her question. "Oh, I am not. Not especially; but who else would investigate? I am charged to protect the people of the Citadel and so I make it my work to delve into those things that might harm it. I investigate crime rings with the same intensity, and often their bosses are less unreasonable than you are being." Maybe that was petty and unnecessary, but she was beginning to grow tired of Wessex's refusal to see even the slightest flaw in her cult.
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure, what I stand for
