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 time passes, I find myself getting more and more used to the idea that this is it, this is my life now. My entire way of living has been shifted - I realise more than ever what a privileged life I led before, never having to worry about shelter over my head, having my desire to learn always met, having enough money to do pretty much whatever I wanted.
It was a curious sensation, that of having one's entire worldview thrown to the wayside and thrust into a completely new, completely different way of living, of thinking, of being.
I enjoy exploring, fortunately. I also enjoy learning. And when thrust into a new plane of existence, I do what I can to learn, and right now, this involves exploring.
But exploring doesn't necessarily mean moving - I wandered around the Citadel for the better half of the afternoon, learning my way around, earning food and board at a local boarding house by completely menial manual labour tasks. The season, as far as I could tell, was the Earth equivalent of Autumn, with the days glorious celebrations of sunlight, and nights getting colder as they extend for longer and longer.
I sit back on a bench, rugged up beneath my leopard seal cloak with its many pockets, and watch as the Citadel makes its transition into night - the lanterns coming on, fireplaces roaring within households, and the people becoming fewer in number. This is my choice of exploring for this evening - to sit back and watch the world for a bit.
The night was Neron's friend - now more than ever. The Warden, perhaps taking advice from those he had met from around the Citadel, was doing his part to be more present in town. Granted that was difficult when the sun liked to try and set him on fire these days, but he could certainly do his best to be approachable once it went down. And as the lanterns were lit and the people shut down their stalls and drew inside for the evening, he walked with the intention of finding somewhere pleasant to go. The Kraai, perhaps.
On the way past, he spotted someone seated upon a bench, just as a lamp flickered on above him. Raising an eyebrow, Neron paused and nodded politely to the stranger. "Brave of you, to take a break as the cold starts to draw in. I hope the evening finds you warmer than right now."
People watching. That's what I used to call it back home. Some days, I would simply sit on a park bench, and watch the world go by, sometimes inventing fantastic stories to go with the people I watched, sometimes just, existing. I couldn't think of any fantastic stories to go with the people I watched this evening - what could get more fantasy-esque than what I'm currently living, what they are currently living? I laugh internally to myself at the thought, my amusement causing an idle smile to soften the features of my face.
A man, pale and tall, paused before me, offering a comment about the impending cold, and wishing me well. "Heh," I chuckle lightly, nodding as I admit to myself it was probably a foolish venture, an accident literally sitting around waiting to happen. "Once temperatures fall below a certain point, any further below doesn't seem to matter," I say, though I concede the point that it probably is time to move.
So I stand, leaning my hands on my knees, dusting myself off lightly - apparently I had been sitting here so long that some snowflakes had begun to build up on my shoulders. With a kind, enquiring smile, I ask the man; "Know of a good place to eat? I'm still learning my way around."
Neron had to raise an eyebrow at that - no one native to Halo would believe that the cold simply 'didn't matter' after a certain point. And as the stranger before him stood and confessed to still learning his way around, it clicked into place somewhat at least. "Be careful," he cautioned, "Deepfrost is nearly on top of us, and the cold will make this look like the tropics." Smirking, he nodded and beckoned for the other man to follow. "The Kraai is a place you'll want to become well aquainted with, if you want good food and a place to keep warm," he said, beginning to set off into Snowcloak.
"I'm Neron," he introduced, taking a leaf from Weaver's book about showing his face more. "Where are you from originally? A refugee from the Hollowed Ground?" It was a guess, but many of the citizens would be flooding in soon enough.
Perhaps I was naïve, foolish, wide-eyed and incredibly unprepared. Perhaps I thought the climes of Antarctica, and the survival training I went through to qualify to live there for the time that I did, prepared me suitably for this world. Everyone kept talking about the upcoming season as some kind of metaphysical being, some weather event that was also sentient, that was out to kill and torture any who did not take necessary precautions.
I suppose I should keep reminding myself that I was in Antarctica during the middle of summer, which was survivable, but only by those who had undergone the rigorous training to qualify for a spot there. My logical, scientific brain knew that temperatures plummeted there in winter, knew that all human life fled the southern island to warmer climes for exactly that reason - survival.
So when the man before me insisted I take more care, albeit kindly enough, I nodded, and fully intended to heed the advice a bit more seriously.
"Chulane," I offer in response to his name, easily falling into step with him, towards the Kraai. "I came through the Portal, some weeks ago, from a world very different to this one," I begin. "How about yourself?"
They walked together, and at least Neron didn't have to concern himself with the worry that Chulane would end up freezing to death on that bench. It would be a bad habit to get into, sitting outside so late. The Warden listened with curiosity, raising his eyebrows at hearing that another Outlander had been dropped into the midst of Halo. "I came through that same portal, but it has been over two years since I arrived," he explained with a quiet smirk.
"You came to Halo at about the same season as I did, friend. It isn't the kindest welcome, I'll admit. But if you can survive Deepfrost here, you can survive anything," he assured him. "How are you finding things? Do you have a place to sleep, any work? I'd not see someone thrown into this place go without."
I nodded as he explained that he too was an Outlander, transported through the portal from another world, thrust into this one. The difference was, of course, that he had been here longer, had time to adapt, to learn and change (and give advice to those still naïve about the oncoming season).
"Thanks," I respond to his assurance that as long as I survive the winter I'll be able to survive anything. Honestly, it sounded a bit like Australia, except there it was a matter of surviving the summer (and the spiders and snakes).
"I've been fortunate since my arrival to have met some very generous people, who have helped me to settle. My landlord allows me to pay rent by running errands and I have made enough contacts to keep myself busy." I explain amicably, genuine gratitude evident in my tones, as well as a bit of pride that I had managed to put something of a life together for myself here.
I wanted more, though I hadn't quite worked out what that more was yet.
"What sort of work do you do?" I ask, the Kraai not far ahead of us now.
They walked quietly together, through streets that were soon draped with darkness - night fell quickly in Halo, Neron had learned, and especially now that the seasons were drawing in. Nodding as Chulane explained his situation, it was a relief to hear; no longer was the Warden quite so cold and blueblooded as he had been, and he appreciated that the Citadel needed every able hand that it could get.
"What kind of errands do you do?" he asked, wondering if he might be able to tease enough out to figure a more permanent place for the newcomer in the city. The Kraai and its ruddy red glow appeared up ahead, and a soft snow was already falling. Perfect timing, really. "Me?" His smile was wry. "I am the Citadel's Warden," he said. "I keep things running, though as you can imagine, in a place like this there are definitely snags along the way." Holding the door open, he beckoned the other man inside.
"Oh, collecting food ingredients for the cook, making sure the woodpile is always stocked, helping with the Ningos that are due to be useful on the dinner table," I respond easily as he asks after what errands the landlord has me doing. It was mostly busywork, giving me something to do so that I could continue to stay with the landlord, who seemed to like me well enough - he hadn't given me an end date to my stay, at least. "On my previous home I was raised on a farm, and also studied to become a doctor for animals - a veterinarian, they called it - so I have joined Loren's healer's college, to hopefully put what skills I have to use, and to learn and adapt to what this world has to offer the art of healing."
I offer a surprised smile as Neron reveals he is the Warden of the Citadel, unable to stop my mind from jumping to thoughts of Ned Stark being Warden of the North. But I don't mention the old stories from home, not now, anyway, keeping the thought to myself as I follow him through the door of the Kraai, taking in a deep breath of the fireplace-warmed air.
"I could only imagine running an entire citadel would prove quite a challenge," I agree easily, the mere thought of being that involved in a government a bit daunting to me. "Do you enjoy it though?" I ask, genuinely interested as I make my way to the bar, placing an order for a cider drink with the barkeep, as I await his reply.
He could get to like Chulane, he thought as they headed into the Kraai - though whether that was because he was useful or because Neron genuinely enjoyed his company remained to be seen. "Loren is my twin," he said of the healer's college. "And a very good medic, if I do say so myself. You'll have no finer teacher, and if you want to put those skills to use on the animals around the Citadel, that's a noble cause. As you've probably noticed, we don't have much by the way of farms or general wildlife." He chuckled.
Sinking down onto a barstool, Neron didn't bother to order anything, and he made sure to shy away from the firelight that warmed the air. "It can be impossible," he said frankly of running the Citadel, a catlike smile curling across his lips. "But yes, I think I do enjoy it. It definitely has its moments, though." The cannibals, the culture, the cold... yeah.
When he informed me of his relation to Loren, I almost slapped myself for being so slow on the uptake. He clearly worked in the Palace, which was where Loren also resided, being Grand Healer and all that, and now the brotherly resemblance seemed screamingly obvious. "I have noticed," I confirm about Neron's observation of the general lack of animals and farming. "I have some… ideas. Techniques, from my homeworld, that I think might be able to be adapted here, to ensure a steady supply of meat throughout the Deepfrost, but it will take a lot of local support."
I wasn't about to force my ideas or ways upon these people without permission, without their full understanding of my plan or my intentions - and I needed to ensure my plan was solid before anything else was done. With the way the weather had turned so quickly into this Deepfrost, I figured I would need to wait until Flowerbirth before I could proceed with anything anyway.
Watching Neron take a seat and not order anything twigged something in my brain, and as I looked him over, I realised the coat he was wearing wasn't as dramatically thick as mine, or most of the others in the place. "Forgive me if I am being rude, but I am still quite new and not sure…" I begin, unable to restrain the question that I simply had to ask now that more dots were being connected in my head. "Are you an Ascended?"
"Oh?" Neron raised his eyebrows, quietly impressed by the other man's ideas and willingness to try and help wherever he could. "Well, if it's for a cause like that I imagine support won't be lacking. And I must say, of all the Outlanders to arrive here, you're probably the most proactive I've ever met." Most - himself included - at least spent a season wondering what the hell had happened and how they might get home. Not Chulane apparently - and it was refreshing.
As was the sudden question - to even know about Ascended, let alone ask about them, had Neron flashing a fang tipped grin in the other man's direction, and he nodded. "Guilty as charged," he said. "Though when I ascended I was able to retain my magic, so I suppose I'm a mix of Ascended and Abandoned, in a way." Which was odd enough to explain in itself. "I hope it isn't an issue - I'm aware that we are not the most well-liked."
A smile tilted my lips at his words of being proactive, and I shrugged, not denying the words. The "good" thing about compartmentalising your emotions like me, was that you could pack away the trauma to deal with it later, at a more convenient time (never), freeing up the present time to get on with life. I'd be the first to admit it was unhealthy, not an ideal way to live, but I had survived this long. Granted, I had never been transported against my will to a completely different plane of existence, but hey, here I was, continuing on with old emotional habits, making 'em work.
He grinned a rather pointedly toothy grin then, and I arched an eyebrow as I took in the expression, and the implications. "Huh," I say with a nod as he explains that he is both Ascended and Abandoned, which I assumed meant he had received the upgrades the Voice promised, but maintained the magical abilities his (original?) Abandoned form held. "Oh, it's not an issue to me," I reassure Neron with a small wave of my hand. "I've heard some, uh, unfavourable things about the Voice. But I do my best to refrain from casting final judgement until I've experienced some things directly for myself."
"Huh is about right," Neron agreed with a quiet laugh. "I didn't expect it, truthfully, to keep my magic. But it isn't a choice I regret." And at least it didn't send Chulane running for the hills; the Warden would have been lying if he said it wasn't something he was worried about when he'd first changed, that the whole of the Citadel would turn their back on him.
"You've got a good head on your shoulders," he said of the other man's opinions on the gods. "You'll likely hear unsavoury things about all of the deities, at one point or another. Best to reserve judgement."
Curious now, he glanced across at Chulane. "Did these things exist where you were from? Gods, magic, palaces made of ice?" He chuckled.
