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!
The girl whimpered. A pouting lower lip had begun to tremble, and big, dark eyes were brimming with tears. But she kept still, and let Korbin examine the burn on her arm. It was big, and flushed a furious red. Already a few blisters had begun to form, but it could have been far worse. Gazing up at the young woman, he gave her a reassuring smile, warm and encouraging.
"It's going to be alright," he assured her. "It looks worse than it really is. I'm going to apply a salve that will cool the burn down and keep it clean, and then I'm going to wrap it. You need to come back so we can do it over tomorrow, and probably a few days more after, but you should be able to keep working just as normal."
It was hard to say if the kitchen aide looked disappointed or relieved at that. Korbin suppressed a smile as he went to fetch the things he needed. Work had become a lot easier since his hearing returned, and he had to admit, he almost enjoyed it at times. The girls from the kitchen were the most frequent customers, aside from the guards, and they were easy enough to deal with.
Applying the salve with gentle hands, Korbin proceeded to wrap the arm in clean bandage, and tied it off with a knot Loren had shown him before. He gave instructions not to get the bandage wet, and once the woman had finished her tea, he sent her off.
With no one else waiting in line, the young man took a moment to straighten out his back. Drawing a deep breath, he looked around, taking note of things that would have to be done before he left for the day. But rather than getting up to see to them right away, he poured himself some of that tea, and slumped down into a chair with a long sigh.
Already the day felt too long, and it wasn't even lunch yet.
They won't stop our evolution. Who do you think we are?
The morning's training had been a measure in disappointment: a lot of Morgan's fresher guards had proven themselves to be rather useless at the intricacies of swordplay and she'd had to devote more time than expected to correcting each swing and parry, chiding her underlings for not correctly studying their blades in their spare time.
Not all the training could focus on violence, though. That afternoon she was to show the new recruits some simple field medicine, things that one might apply in an emergency where a magical healer was not available. She headed towards the clinic to get some supplies for this lesson, in her mind thinking about other things entirely, the troubles brewing in the palace taking more concentration than the bandages she'd come to pick up.
It was only when she entered the room and saw Korbin slumped in his chair that she stopped, giving the man a look up and down. "Are you alright?" She asked, more the tone of someone checking that a part was not broken more than friendly concern.
Fight against your execution. Who do you think we are?
The sound of someone entering made Korbin pry open an eye to see who it was. The appearance of the Captain was not entirely expected, but not unusual either, and she didn't look like she needed any help. He closed the eye again, holding the teacup between his hands. The warmth of it seeped into his hands, and did perhaps more good than the brew itself.
At her question, he opened both eyes and looked up, offering a slight smile.
"Define 'alright'? But yeah, probably. Just had a busy morning," he replied. It had only been a few days since his hearing returned, but it still caught him off guard to hear voices again. It was rather pleasant, on the whole.
"Can I help you with anything?" he offered, and made a motion to sit up straighter. Break or no, he was supposed to be of assistance to people who came here. Especially when the Grand Healer wasn't around.
They won't stop our evolution. Who do you think we are?
"If it is just a busy morning that is troubling you, you can afford to look less--" Morgan began to chide, the words coming to her without thought, but then she paused and sighed. "--I apologise. It has been a difficult morning for me as well." If she did not have her position and reputation to consider, her own constant motivation to perform nagging in her head, she knew she'd love to have a sit down for a moment.
Stretching her arms for a moment, she nodded. "Yes. I need bandages for the class I am giving this afternoon. I presume you have spare? We will be returning them, as there will be no real wound to wrap." She could even wash them with her water magic in seconds, if need be.
Fight against your execution. Who do you think we are?
Blue eyes snapped to her as she started on a rant, something flinty stealing over his expression. But it softened immediately at the apology, and Korbin watched the captain for a moment.
"Would you like a cup?" he asked, holding up the steaming tea to indicate what he meant. "I can take care of those bandages while you drink."
Setting his cup aside, the young man got to his feet. Without waiting for a reply, he found a spare mug for Morgan and set it on the table next to the teapot, for her to accept or reject as she pleased. They had plenty of bandages, alright, and after finding a small crate, he began to fill it up for her.
"What kind of difficulty have you been facing? For my part, I've had three cases of sprained ankles, as many frost bites and two burns on a pair of silly girls from the kitchens who 'didn't realize that boiling water is hot.'"
He couldn't help but roll his eyes; no doubt it was just an excuse to cover up gossiping while they should be working, but he thought it was a fairly ridiculous one all the same. Were they trying to make themselves look dumb?
They won't stop our evolution. Who do you think we are?
Morgan stared at the cup, for a moment certain she was going to refuse, tell him she didn't have time...but she did actually, an hour or so before her next job...and it was very rarely that she let herself take a true break. She nodded and sat, leaning to look at the brew. "What is it? I do not drink a lot of tea." As with most soldiers she drank ale with her dinner and water every other time.
For a moment she didn't keep up with what Korbin was saying, thinking he meant he himself had incurred all the injuries: when she caught up though she laughed and shook her head. "Are you sure they aren't coming here to see you?" Morgan asked, raising an eyebrow at him. It was hardly a secret that any new young male staff always caused a stir in the kitchens and while Morgan was far too old for it, she had once been a teenage girl herself.
"I am finding that my guards who I have been training for years suddenly don't know how to lift a sword." Morgan sighed and shook her head. "Endless repeated training is fine in peace time, but I worry when we need to use these skills they will not be there."
Fight against your execution. Who do you think we are?
"Willow bark, rosemary, ginger and a few other herbs," he explained, as he reached up onto a shelf and retrieved a few more rolls of bandage. "It's to reduce pain and stave off inflammation. Won't do any harm even without wounds, and it's quite good." Korbin rather disliked the teas that affected the mind - chamomile, for example; he didn't want to be sedated even by a little - but this blend did none of that. "There's honey, if you want to sweeten it."
Filling up the basket, he set the bandages aside and returned to slump back into the chair he had left. Her suggestion that the girls had come for him made Korbin laugh. "I really hope they didn't scald themselves with boiling water just to come here," he winced. "Not that I mind having girls around, but I prefer them with at least a bit of brain."
Picking up his cup again, Korbin nursed it between his hands, savoring the warmth. He listened with interest to the captain's troubles, and thought back to the men and women he had met back when they restored the training area. To his eye they had been tired, uncooperative, and listened only when faced with a superior officer.
"Maybe they need some motivation," he suggested thoughtfully. "Have you considered switching up the training a bit? Hold some mock battles, maybe even a competition... Anything that shakes them out of the routine." It was easy to get complacent when everything followed the same pattern every day. It was the kind of thing that led to accidents on the Tundra, to fires in the home, to dropping skills in a soldier.
They won't stop our evolution. Who do you think we are?
Korbin's list of ingredients admittedly didn't mean much to Morgan when it came down to it as she wasn't familiar with the flavours of many of them, but she could appreciate it was hot and wet. "No honey, thanks." Perhaps it was partly some misguided pride, but she didn't like to weaken her food and drink.
She huffed out a breath of laughter and nodded, hoping that despite her suspicions the burn really had just been an honest mistake. Morgan went to take a sip of tea as Korbin continued to speak and his suggestion made her put the cup down slowly, raising an eyebrow. "...I am not running a club. Training is supposed to be a duty, not fun. I trained myself to be mentally strong by surviving alone in the mountains for three years with nothing but the clothes on my back to start with. That is the kind of dedication I expect from my guards."
Fight against your execution. Who do you think we are?
Taking a sip of his tea, Korbin tilted his head and considered the captain. Her dedication to her work was admirable - beyond admirable, actually, it seemed to border on zealotry - and the raven chose his words very carefully as he responded.
"I would never presume to tell the Captain of the Deepfrost Shields how to do her work," he assured, to start off, "but... You are an exceptional woman, Morgan. The example you set is great, and I am sure that your soldiers admire you greatly. But, as a normal man, I have to point out that most people go to work every day in order to earn a wage, so that they can make a living." He said it gently, and kept his eyes on her expression, in the hopes of catching any warning signs before he went too far.
"Duty and fun does not have to be mutually exclusive. Changing routine does not even have to be fun at all - just challenge the mind, and offer a new way of doing the same task.
"Tell me, what goals do you have for yourself in your training? And do your soldiers have those same goals?"
He was more than a little interested in the reply. Korbin never had much to do with the soldiering life; he was a decent fighter but didn't have the right mindset for it. The Hale way of fighting wasn't with sword and shield side by side with others, either. They were trained to be independent and self-sufficient. Weaver in particular excelled at that bit.
They won't stop our evolution. Who do you think we are?
Morgan was used to quelling disagreement in her troops and had to bite back her immediate rebuttal, not comfortable enough with social conversation to listen to Korbin's opinion without wanting to bark it down. Still, she controlled herself and drank her tea, considered his words as she stared out of the window..when she looked back, she tilted her head from side to side to indicate her partial agreement.
"I know not all my guards have the same dedication and desire as I. That is why some of them are trained more for settling the disputes of the merchants and petty thieves on our streets." It was a position she would be ashamed to be delegated to, but it seemed for some of her guards it was a relief. "I want the guards in my inner circle to be able to fight through war, through pain and yes, through boredom. It is as much a part of the fight as anything else."
As for her own goals, though..that was harder. "I only aim to protect Halo and I would hope my guards want that too. I want to be as good a Captain as my father was for this Citadel."
Fight against your execution. Who do you think we are?
The young man hummed thoughtfully at her response, quietly impressed with the dedication she showed. It made his presence in the infirmary feel arbitrary; his dedication to healing was paper thin, and served as no more than a means to an end. He simply didn't want to let his sister provide for him with a business he didn't like.
"Well, I think they do share that, at least," he said. "I'm no soldier, but I want to protect Halo and its people too. It's a rather vague ideal though, don't you think? Easy to lose track of in the day to day dealings." No matter how much you spyched yourself up, eventually you would lose the edge, even if only for a day.
"I don't remember much about your father," he admitted. "What was he like?" Korbin wasn't old enough, and had been rather occupied with his own family and their tragedies. He couldn't imagine that any father would be anything but proud of a daughter like Morgan though.
They won't stop our evolution. Who do you think we are?
Korbins words drew a shrug from her and Morgan sipped at her tea as she thought them over. "This is why I have guards for different levels of problems. I deal with more...overarching issues and plans. They do the tasks needed to solve them. Protecting a whole city is indeed a complex duty. But it is one that many people have done before me, and done well." She could only hope to be remembered as well as them.
The chance to speak on her father would once have been one she would have turned down, but recently she was finding some worth in reminiscing. With a clear smile of pride, she thought for a moment on what she'd like to say. "He was strong. Clear minded, and a good Captain. He never once refused me, even though I was his illegitimate child." She had no shame in that, no need to hide it. "I...can only hope to be half the leader he was."
Fight against your execution. Who do you think we are?
Korbin nodded his understanding. It came as no surprise that Morgan had her job under control, and it seemed like none of his suggestions won any real ground with her. "Possibly it's just one of those days," he said, with a disarming smile. "I'm sure they'll be back to normal in no time."
Sipping his tea, Korbin hid an understanding grin as the captain started to gush about her father. His command had ended when Korbin was still just a boy, around the time his father passed away, but he had vague recollections of a tall man walking the market place with purposeful strides. Someone to look up to, for a kid, even if his dreams had been circling around becoming a hunter like his mother, sister and older brother.
"I'd say you're doing a good job so far, not that I'm one to judge," the raven assured her. "I've only ever heard people say good things about you." Possibly there were some muttering about her backing of Neron, but it was because of her that none had thought to do more than grumble. Or so Korbin understood it.
He sat quiet for a moment, fingering the rim of his cup with a long finger. "Captain... may I ask you something? It's not likely to be very pleasant, mind..." He glanced sideways at her, expression fading into a serious look.
They won't stop our evolution. Who do you think we are?
"Possibly. I just worry it will be 'one of those days' when we find ourselves in a situation that needs competent warriors." How right Morgan would find her fear to be in the oncoming days. For the moment though, it was just a far-off hope, a worry for the future.
Not one really plugged into the social on-goings of the Citadel, it was pleasing to hear that the people had a good opinion of her. The vain part of Morgan (one that admittedly did not appear often) wanted to ask what it was they had said, but she resisted. "That is...good to know. I am not skilled at social niceties. I hope the people know I am trying to protect them." To the best of her ability, always.
The moment of quiet was broken by his request, which drew a raised eyebrow from her. "You are not making this sound appealing. But go ahead."
Fight against your execution. Who do you think we are?
