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!
you had a heart, it's been gone since they left you
Running errands had been reduced to a minimum, but there would still be things to do even if hell froze over. Halovians rarely let things like deadly cold or howling snowstorms stop them in their daily lives, and Korbin had two very pressing reasons to be out and about today.
The door bell shook and swayed over his head as he entered, but the sound of it never reached him. Closing the door quickly against the cold, Korbin looked around, hoping to see Glas at the counter again.
If he wasn't there, things might get a bit... awkward.
Don't shout at me like I'm across the room when I'm right here, when you're right this time
The ring surprises him, as it always did. And just as he always did, the young crafter is sketching in his little sketchbook – this time a few other ideas, not nearly as detailed as the flute had been, but some were a mix of signs and furniture, of tables and chairs that were a bit too fancy for Halo, but still fun projects nonetheless.
His verdant gaze lifts to spot Korbin as he enters, offering a small wave before going to shut his sketchbook and stand at the back of the counter, reaching already for an empty page of a notebook nearby and a pencil, scratching out ‘hi Korbin, what can I do for you this time?’ Before sliding it over toward the young raven, still not quite meeting Korbin’s gaze but still giving him all of the attention the young crafter could in the way he does it so awkwardly.
you had a heart, it's been gone since they left you
The sight of the young crafter made Korbin smile, part from relief, part from genuine pleasure at seeing him. This was one person who didn't throw himself at the raven, begging for attention, which was very much appreciated. At all times, really, and especially now when he wasn't at his best, mentally speaking.
"Hey Glas," he returned, in a voice that was low and flat, unsteady and rusty from lack of use. "I came to see if you've gotten anywhere with the lute." Brushing off the hat, and removing his gloves, Korbin came up and leaned a hip against the counter, casual as if he strolled in and out every day. "And no, sorry. Still deaf as a doornail... Just remembered I can still use my voice."
He rolled his eyes with a self-deprecating chuff of a laugh, casually mocking his own lack of brains. "How've you been, since the building?" They hadn't talked while helping the Grand Healer build his school, but Korbin did remember the crafter's presence. Working together didn't require much in way of conversation to breed familiarity.
Don't shout at me like I'm across the room when I'm right here, when you're right this time
There’s a bright spark of surprise, Glas’ head lifting up to Korbin’s as he speaks, blonde brows furrowed together in his confusion as Korbin speaks. The voice is rusty, but still a voice nonetheless, and Glas sucks in a quiet breath before Korbin continues and leans against the counter. Ah, so he still couldn’t hear. That’s fine, fair enough. The mention of remembering that he could use his voice has a small smile ghosting along his face before he nods and slips away toward the back.
Glas pulls the lute out, restrung, the hairline crack fixed, the material polished and clean. It probably looks the best that it had in years, shiny and almost new if not for the slight nicks and edges to it that were a signifying factor that it was used and well loved. He sets it carefully on the counter for Korbin to inspect as he takes the paper and goes to write on it again. ‘I put in new strings for you. It needs to be tuned but it should be good as new.’ He writes out, before glancing up briefly at Korbin with the question that’s aired.
‘I’ve been good. Just getting ready for Deepfrost. You?’ There was one thing that Glas did like about Korbin, despite everything he’s been putting up with. And it was similar to the reason Korbin liked him. They didn’t try to adjust or change each other, just… Tried to simply be.
you had a heart, it's been gone since they left you
A hungry look came over Korbin when he saw the lute. The hands that reached for the instrument were almost trembling, eager yet reverent all the same, just as the way he lifted it. Turning it over, he inspected the mending closely - if he hadn't known where it was, he would never have known - and as he kept turning the lute back and forth, flipping it over to check the underside too, his eyebrows steadily rose. Clearly impressed.
Only with great restraint did he keep himself from stroking the strings, like a pet or perhaps a lover's skin. He couldn't hear the hum of music in them anyway; he knew it, and tried to spare himself the pain of trying, even though his heart already ached just by holding it.
It looked like he had all but forgotten Glas for a while. But then he looked up, saw the note, and brightened into a wide grin, surprise and genuine warmth returning to eyes that had been dull for too long.
"Thank you," Korbin replied, with a weight of sincerity behind the simple word. "You did a great job. Almost on par with old Misha." The name was of the woman who had made his lute; he wasn't sure if it meant anything to Glas. Might, if the guy liked to make instruments; the woman had been a master carver.
Carefully setting the lute back down, Korbin tilted his head at the follow up question. Thinking back over the past season, he had to grimace. "I've been better. It's rough not to hear anything." He shrugged, knew it was impossible to convey the full horror of the silence that enveloped him. His own thoughts - and the thoughts and emotions of other Attuned - were the only things that echoed in his mind. In everything else, silence reigned. When he chewed and swallowed, when he pulled a shirt over the head, when he breathed or his heart beat... It was like being excluded from a part of life he'd always taken for grated.
"I met a dragon, when I came back from the last trip to Torchline," he went on, with some effort tearing his mind away from what haunted him. Korbin said it casually, like it happened every day... but his slight glance at Glas suggested he was measuring the other youth for a reaction.
Don't shout at me like I'm across the room when I'm right here, when you're right this time
He gives Korbin as much time as he needs to inspect the work he’s done. And when the raven’s eyes turn onto him, Glas keeps his gaze averted – though the comparison to Misha has the curve of his lip raising in a small smile. He’s heard of her, never had the fortune of meeting her. But he only nods to that, nothing else to add until Korbin sets the lute down again and focuses on the question Glas posed back.
The answer is understandable, and Glas gnaws on the inside of his cheek. He can’t imagine not being able to hear – something about the idea strikes a bit of fear within him, though he tries his best to mask it, nodding along in understanding and taking the paper back so he can scribble on it again. There’s a moment of pause, the pencil stuttering against the paper at the mention of a dragon, and his head shoots up – verdant gaze strong as he looks at Korbin’s face, searching for something before his gaze drops to the paper.
’A dragon dragon?’ He writes, sliding the paper back over, unashamedly worrying at his lip as he focuses on Korbin’s face, quite uncharacteristically.
you had a heart, it's been gone since they left you
Oh, that caught the guy's attention, alright. Korbin leaned down, propping his elbows against the counter and looked sideways at Glas, eyes glittering. It was too bad he couldn't hear his own voice... he would've had a grand time spinning a yarn out of that incident.
"Thought so. I'd just stepped out of the portal, and there it was. Came sweeping down out of the falling snow, with scales glistening like silver in the light. It landed, and looked at me. I swear, I thought I was breathing my last. But then..."
He made a dramatic pause, eyes fixed intensely on Glas, mouth just barely able to hold back a smile.
"...then it spoke. I could hear its voice inside my head, and it said... 'Oh pardon, I hope I didn't frighten you!'."
He twisted his chords into what he hoped was a high pitched sound, exaggerating the polite tone Jigano had used to ridiculous proportions.
The truth was incredible enough, in this case. He didn't even have to twist the facts to make it difficult to believe.
Don't shout at me like I'm across the room when I'm right here, when you're right this time
Blonde brows furrow under the weight of Korbin’s gaze, while Glas tries to figure out what exactly had happened between Korbin and this dragon. He thought was a true dragon at first, he doesn’t know if that’s more terrifying when it didn’t just drop from the sky and latch onto him, taking him for lunch later. He exhales a small breath, chewing on the inside of his cheek, until Korbin mentions that it spoke.
And something about it amuses Glas, his lips quirking into a small smile as he grabs the pencil again and goes to write once more. “And then what happened?” He writes down, sliding the paper over toward Korbin, quietly eager to hear more of this story.
After all, he usually warded people away when it came to those that would tell interesting stories, ones that didn’t want to spend the time to deal with Glas and his awkwardness. But again, it’s far easier to write, far easier to sound better when he could scribble it out rather than stutter over his own words.
you had a heart, it's been gone since they left you
For a moment, Korbin reveled at the spark of interest he'd instilled in Glas, in the rapt attention, the urging to go on. Keep talking, tell more of the story. It filled him up, floated elation and content through his veins...
Then something flipped like a switch in his mind. It was a candle blown out in the dead of night, light extinguished... and all the fun went out of him with the next exhale.
"Turns out it was just an Attuned," he shrugged, and looked away. "Some friend of the Grand Healer's... He's in the market for a lute though. Can you make one, not just repair them?"
Leaning down to rest his elbows on the counter, Korbin searched the shop for signs of instruments. Was it just a hobby, much as the music was for himself?
Don't shout at me like I'm across the room when I'm right here, when you're right this time
There’s anticipation in waiting to see how the encounter with the dragon had gone. And when he sits there, quietly, silent and chewing on the inside of his cheek, he finds that he can’t help but to feel his heart thundering in his chest. Only… To have the end result be just as disappointing as Korbin makes it, silently exhaling a long breath as Korbin looks away, gaze dropping to the paper as he recovers as swiftly as he can.
“That’s disappointing.” He begins, moving a few steps down to answer the next question. Again, it wasn’t something that Glas was supposed to be doing, but something that he wanted to start doing in his own time, a slight secret of sorts. “I’ve never made one before but I can try.” Glas offers honestly, sliding the paper over toward Korbin and glancing toward the man leaning on the counter with a raise of a pale brow.
you had a heart, it's been gone since they left you
Korbin's mouth twisted into a wry grin as he nodded agreement. It had been, very much so. An outlander was far less glamorous than a real dragon, and even if the body had been remarkable enough, it was like expecting the appearance of a god and be met with cursing spirits instead. A complete letdown. Never mind that he probably wouldn't have been alive now if it was a real dragon...
Glas response was equal parts good and disappointing. It would have been nice to tell the outlander that there was nothing for him to find in Halo. At the same time, now Korbin could put the man in debt to him, which was almost as good.
"Good. You have all Deepfrost, so take your time. If you need materials, I have a share of the wood we hauled back from the Hollowed Ground. Just treat it as a commission for me, I'll take care of dealing with the outlander."
He offered the crafter a sly wink. Korbin would pay well for the work, and take just as much back from Jigano. Perfectly reasonable and just good business.
Don't shout at me like I'm across the room when I'm right here, when you're right this time
He chews on his lip as he writes down his response for Korbin, green gaze flickering up to try and see what the other man makes of it. And at Korbin’s response, some sort of… Enthused sensation fills him – the fact that it wouldn’t be a hobby, that he could proudly beam to his parents that he’s been commissioned for it, that he would be doing it as his job. Perhaps that would make it easier to convince them to let him.
Regardless, there’s a small smile that crosses his face as he nods to that – able to figure out exactly what all he’d need, some trial runs he could likely pass by Korbin to see how the other man thought of it, what tweaks needed to be done, things of that nature. So he grabs the paper again, nodding, before he goes to write again. “I’ll probably have some first… Versions of it, if you wouldn’t mind testing them out for me to ensure they’re okay enough?” He writes, sliding it over toward Korbin and looking back up to the other man’s face.
you had a heart, it's been gone since they left you
If only he could share that sensation. Perhaps he might, once his hearing returned (if it ever did), once this dark cloud lifted from his shoulders and he was able to feel properly happy about anything again. Right now though, even the work at the informary - which he might have loved any other time - was done out of sense of duty and nothing else. Being around Loren was a pain, memorizing names and uses for plants was a pain, getting up in the morning was a big, fucking pain.
He was just... too stubborn to stop trying.
Glas at least seemed eager to take on this job, and it meant one less headache for Korbin. The question he got hurt quite a bit - what if he never got his hearing back? How could he test lutes if he couldn't hear what they sounded like? - but he forced himself to smile.
"I can do that," he said with a nod. "Wouldn't want to leave an outsider with anything to complain about." Only the best should be passed from Halo to the outside world, if it had to pass at all. It seemed very fitting that they would be using materials from the Grounds to complete the order. Ironic, somehow.
"If you have time to spare once that's done, I wouldn't mind if you could make that flute for me," he added, on impulse. If he was clinging to hope anyway... might as well go all in.
Don't shout at me like I'm across the room when I'm right here, when you're right this time
Glas hadn’t realized how the question might come across – how it might become this… Sort of stalemate when it came to whether or not Korbin would know what it sounded like, if it even sounded good. But the question was already in the space between them, and Glas couldn’t take it back – had he known what war raged within Korbin with the thought, he would have absolutely shriveled up like a paper bag. But he doesn’t and it’s probably for the best. So Glas offers his own nod back to Korbin, chewing on his lip in agreement and beginning to think of where to start.
But he’s distracted when Korbin mentions the lute, his verdant gaze surprised and wide eyed as he lifts his gaze to meet Korbin’s once more – briefly – before looking down to the paper in front of him. “I already have the materials for it.” He writes out quickly, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “I went with Noah and grabbed some to try in my free time. I’d like to try it out too.” He offers by way of working to make that instrument as well. Perhaps that might make the whole crafting bit a bit easier – to make something other than just furniture.
