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!
Time has passed in a blur. She slept some but there was so much to do, and her morning flies by as well. It is really beginning to feel like Neron got the better end of this deal, though she cannot say she is entirely surprised. It’s not like she expected this to be easy, but it is amazing some of the things people will complain about. As a whole though, the town rallies together, stepping up to help one another. The Kraai is not quite as bustling as it had been last night or even this morning. People have begun to trickle out, going back to their homes to assess the damage. The area around the Palace had been hit the hardest, but many houses and business farther out had been spared. Or the damage had been minimal, at least, and would not take long for them to repair.
Still, she knows they need to organize a few rebuilding parties. Many people had offered help, but she couldn’t be everywhere at once, and she needed the opinion of someone outside of Neron’s old council. Though she valued their opinions as well, it is her brother she seeks now. Hey, she’s entitled to a little nepotism after the Launceleyn reign. Particularly given that Korbin was actually good at this sort of stuff.
So she seeks him out, figuring he’ll be somewhere around the Kraai, helping others out. Or maybe he was looking for her as well. Regardless, she stays at the bar, popping out on occasion to see if he was on the street.
Remember when I swore That you and I would never die
Korbin had not really slept at all. From the moment he left Weaver to take over the organization of lodgings at the Kraai, he had been more or less in constant motion. People had been accommodated, wounds tended, squabbles about sleeping places settled and food distributed. At one point he had watched Weaver and Loren slip away in the night, but said nothing; he had just picked up where they left off.
When there was nothing else left to do at the bar, his attention moved elsewhere. Heading back to the Academy, he repeated the process there. It was too cold and too dark to do any surveys of the Palace yet, but the dislocated Grounders needed blankets and food, water and fires. At least he could leave the calming and explaining to Kiada; he had quite enough to do without trying to explain why they had changed Warden in the middle of this crisis.
It was close to noon when the young man's strength finally started to flag. In desperate need of a bite to eat and a nap, he made his way back to the Kraai, head swimming with things that still needed to be done.
Seeing Weaver poke her head out through the door was a relief. If she was up, that meant he could relax a bit. He gave her a lopsided smile, fully aware that he looked like shit. His hands and face was still flecked with blood, as was his clothes, and the dark hair was standing on edge, streaked through with dirst from diving into half-collapsed homes to retrieve essentials for people before they relocated. There were dark bags under his own eyes too, but his gaze was sharp and alert when he looked her over.
"Glad to see you're alright," he said quietly. As soon as he was through the door, Korbin pulled his sister into a rough embrace, finally not caring if there were other things that needed doing.
She finally finds him on the street, and he’s quick to come to her. It’s clear he hasn’t slept at all, and she feels bad for not dragging him back to their house last night as well. Well really, it had already been the wee hours of the morning by the time she’d left at all, her head a jumble of thoughts and the sounds of screaming cannibals. How they smelled as they burned, how she just kept going with no remorse.
He pulls her into a hug and she lets him. ”You as well, brother. Gods, I was so worried.” She breaks the hug after a long moment, stepping back to look him over. Dirty and grimy as she had been not too long ago, but otherwise unhurt. ”Do you need sleep, or do you have time and the brain capacity to talk?” Though she’d talk to Loren and Morgan first, there was a reason. She wanted all the information she could have before she talked to Korbin, because she trusted his opinion the most.
Still, she makes her way to the bar and before long, there is a bowl of steaming oats set before her. She turns and hands it to Korbin, guessing if nothing else, he could use a little food.
Remember when I swore That you and I would never die
Her hair smelled clean, and he breathed deep the scent of her as he held her. Again he relived the panic of the night; the crash that woke him up, the screams and the cries as people ran this way and that. The struggle to help them get organized and safe, and the terrible, awful wait while the sound of battle raged; knowing that she was out there and he couldn't go to help.
"As was I," he mumbled, allowing himself a moment to close the eyes, reel with the shock and terror. They had been attacked. The gate was destroyed. Their people had died, and Weaver had become Warden of Halo. Gods, what an exquisite mess.
She withdrew, and Korbin reluctantly let go. He cast a glance around the room, and saw that many of those who had been sleeping on the floor were up and had left to go about their business. The room was far from empty, but it wasn't as crowded as it had been in the night.
"I do need to sleep, but it can wait," he told her, returning his gaze to his sister. His expression brightened when she handed him the bowl; the ravenous look suggested he hadn't eaten anything for a while either.
"If I can sit down, we can talk all you want," he promised fervently, and dug into the oats before he'd even found a proper seat. Someone brought a plate with steaming meat to go along, and he nodded a quick thank you. Already he was starting to feel better, and looked up at Weaver with interest, ready to hear her out.
She wasn’t sure it was an exquisite mess, but it was definitely a mess. She’d spent a little time surveying the damage this morning in the light. The Palace was destroyed, and while some part of her was tempted to just burn it and be done, the building had its uses. Training rooms and infirmaries, council chambers and meeting rooms. Though she would be vastly more comfortable running the entirety of Halo from the Kraai, it was rather small. This is why she shouldn’t be Warden. She’d run a region from a damn bar. Actually, maybe that suits Halo better than a Palace.
She nods, waving a hand toward the cellar and leading him in that direction. ”I set up some very temporary quarters with all my booze,” she says, some trace of her usual humor in there, though it is a hollow thing.
She leads him down, taking a seat at the table they’d set up which has a few chairs around it, gesturing for him to do the same. ”I need someone to help me, Korbin. And you are young and often a jerk but I also think you can do it.” She gives him a hard, appraising look, waiting to see how he reacts.
Remember when I swore That you and I would never die
In a wonderful display of less than stellar manners, Korbin kept eating even as he followed Weaver down into the cellar. Blancing a bowl and plate in one hand, he shoveled food into his mouth with the other, and didn't let go even as he slumped into the chair she offered.
"Good, then you can keep an eye on it," was his only comment, around a mouthful of porridge. "Better not let people descend into drunken stupors just yet." It was a real danger. Soon the shock would wear off, and once the immediate crisis had been averted, morale would be lower than ever. They would have to find a way to keep people on their toes; a population half-drowned in booze would never be able to rebuild.
"Of course I'll help you," he replied immediately. But something in her tone made Korbin pause. Swallowing, he looked up, a brow raised. "With what, exactly? And what does being a young jerk have to do with it?" His mind was still on logistics, on food inventories and sleeping places, on the need to dig out provisions from the rubble of the Palace. It was clear he wasn't looking further than that at the moment.
She doesn’t care about manners, which he should know. He’s seen her manner, or really, her lack of them. So as he shovels food, she doesn’t bat an eye. Good, he needs to eat, and then sleep. ”Yes, I can. And you can get some sleep after this, brother. That is an order.” Even if it would be fitful sleep at best, it has proved to be slightly better than nothing. She would ensure that the bartenders were not serving liberally as well, even though she didn’t blame people for wanting a drink. She kept a bottle of whiskey on the desk down here with a clearly used glass. Not much, but just enough to be reminded she was alive every now and again.
He seems to catch her meaning, at least a little bit. ”I need a second, a right hand. Call it whatever you want, I don’t really care. Morgan remains the Captain as is best for her and Halo. Loren...it can’t be him, and he is best suited to remain our Grand Healer anyway. Besides, there is no one else I trust more.” It is no small thing to ask of him, her young brother, but he wanted to be needed and he wanted responsibility. Here it was. Besides, the fact that his mind too was on all the things that needed to be done was exactly why she wanted him, because he could help her get it done. She could not be everywhere at once, and they needed to move quickly. ”So you can see why I need you not to be a jerk. Argue with me all you want in private, but you will behave as befits your role if you accept.”
Remember when I swore That you and I would never die
He did know what she was like, and it was part of the reason why he didn't bother. But then, even if she had cared about manners, Korbin still wouldn't be assed right now. He was too hungry, too tired and too numb to give a damn
A brow arched up when she ordered him to bed. It wasn't needed, really, but even so, he was taken aback by the tone she used, that she thought she had to order him about at all. His gaze remained fixed on her as she went on to elaborate on what she wanted from him, and the one brow was joined by the other, until both had all but disappeared under the disheveled mop of hair.
There was a moment of silence as the young man processed what she really offered him. Asked? Pleaded him to do? Slowly, he leaned back in the chair, and after stufying his sister for a bit, he returned to his meal.
"So you're going to stick to it, then?" he asked, poking the spoon around the oats before taking a bite. "You don't have to, you know. If you'd rather just keep the bar, I'm sure someone else would step up to be the Warden." Morgan had offered, and he did not doubt others would be able to do the job too.
Yes, she does think she has to order him to bed, and really, is she wrong? He would keep going, keep helping, until he collapsed. Which she didn’t particularly want. Loren would have done the same thing, and it was still a miracle he’d gone with her when she’d dragged him out of The Kraai. As much as they did not get along, Korbin and Loren were alike in that. They would give and give until there was nothing left.
Her brother is silent for a while, and when he speaks, it is not what she expects. Hadn’t Loren said the same thing, though? It made sense in the context of their conversation though, when she’d outright said she had never wanted to be Warden. Which was true, but how could she back down now? How could she turn her back on Halo and leave the mess to someone else?
”Are you suggesting I should step down?” Her amber eyes meet his, and there is something hard there, something capable. But she is not challenging him, rather asking for the truth. He is suggesting she cannot do this?
Remember when I swore That you and I would never die
He really wouldn't like the comparison... but it's possible that she was right. He would work himself to collapse if he could. And be happy doing it. It was perhaps a bit twisted, but Korbin hadn't felt so good in a long while. Personally. Like, obviously he was devastated by the pain and suffering of everyone around and angry and shook.. but he also thrived in this madness. Here he knew exactly what to do, had his priorities straight, and leaped into it without hesitating.
Meeting Weaver's gaze without wavering, he considered her challenge seriously. "No," he replied. "I'm saying that you can step down, if you're not sure you'll do this whole-heartedly and of your own free will."
Scraping up the last bits of food from the bowl, he cleaned off the plate as well, and dumped them both onto her table. Reaching for that whiskey bottle, he stole her glass and poured a small shot for himself. Rolling it between his hands, he watched her back, calm and steady. If she searched him for doubt, Weaver would found none. Only trust and loyalty, just as he always offered.
"But if you're sure this is what you want, then I'll stand with you. Every step of the way." He just didn't want her to do something she hated, out of some misguided notion that no one else could fill her spot.
He answers honestly, and she nods. ”I know, but I meant what I said. They are my people, and I am theirs. If someone comes along that is better suited to the job, I will hand it over, but until that time, I will do my best not to let Halo down.” She’d inherited an ugly mess, and she knows some of the decisions in her future will not please everyone. Though she can stand against their dislike if it is the right decision. ”But nor I am stupid enough to believe I can do this alone.”
Yes, Morgan could take the job, and though Weaver liked the Captain, that is what she is. She is not a politician, and she would have murdered Neron in the street without considering the repercussions of that decision. Were there others probably more qualified than Weaver? Definitely. But she can stand where others will crumble, and at least for now, she has made her bed.
She lets him take the whiskey and the glass without complaint, even though there are clean glasses nearby. It’s not like she minds her brother’s germs. ”I can’t say I’m excited about it, but I made my choice, and it is one I am willing to bear with you by my side. We have a lot to get done, brother. Snowcloak needs to be rebuilt, and eventually the Palace, though I am more concerned with people’s homes and businesses first. I would also like to know your thoughts on Zariah and Neron.” Though she didn’t have to deal with them right away, she would need to make a decision soon.
Remember when I swore That you and I would never die
Sipping the whiskey and feeling it burn its way down the throat, Korbin nodded, satisfied with her answer. "Just wanted to make sure," he said, running a tongue over lips that had started to crack from too much time spent outside in the freezing cold. It felt weird to think that she was giving him a job - the job of jobs, even, in helping her run the whole fucking region - but though he balked internally at the scale of what she placed on his shoulders, he felt... satisfied, too. He had indeed asked for trust, for work where he was needed, and there was no doubt in his mind that he could do what needed to be done here.
This is what he knew. Take everything he had ever done for their family and scale it up; the tasks were more or less the same. Korbin was excited, and the gleam in his eyes showed it.
"Before any of that, we need to make sure everyone has enough to eat to last us through the season," he said, straightening up with a bit of effort. The chair was hard and uncomfortable, but sitting down let the weariness catch up. It might have been a mistake. "All of the food for the Grounders was stored in the Palace. A good deal of the firewood too. If there's a shortage, it might be better to keep people housed together and divvy up what we gathered."
Keeping people fed and warm were always priorities, and it wouldn't be the first time the people of Halo had to cram together to make up for one shortage or another. Businesses and private homes came second, at least to his mind.
Taking another sip, he set the glass aside. "Neron and Zariah..." Those people were different matters. Korbin sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "You can't let them get off easy," he said quietly. But she knew that already. "Neron might have acted out of self-preservation, but his choices put all of Halo at risk. No one will forget that. As for Zariah... She sacrificed a child. Why doesn't even matter. That's murder, or attempted murder at the very least. There's only ever been one consequence for that." He looked up, meeting her gaze. Exile was an old punishment, and he couldn't see that there were any reasons to be lenient this time.
She can see the gleam in his eye, and it does not surprise her. He would not fail Halo, as she would not fail Halo. They were both capable of doing what needed to be done. His job would be much of the daily running of things, of remembering all the little details she forgot. It was exactly what he was good at. Her job was to be the weapon, to try and think of every possible outcome and make the best decision possible. She knew how to listen to others, and she knew how to be strong in the face of almost anything. Together, they could do this. But only together.
Weaver leans back in her chair, kicking her boots onto the table. ”Raid what we have at the Kraai and ration it. I ordered more than enough before Deepfrost, and I can deal with the business repercussions later.” She hadn’t really been sure what to expect for the long, cold season, so she’d over-ordered. Apparently that rookie decision would pay off. ”We can send a contingent of people into the Palace to see what can be salvaged. We cannot leave these people cooped up on each other's floors too long though brother. You know as well as I do they will start to kill each other.” They would grow restless, and though they knew how to share and take care of one another during this season, Weaver would prefer to make sure they did not grow too antsy either.
As he talks, she pulls a knife from her belt, something to fidget with. It’s an old habit, and one she doesn’t do frequently anymore, but then agai, shen rarely spends so much time sitting around talking. Is this what it meant to rule? Probably. ”I cannot say I’ve made decisions, but I believe I will hand Neron over to Wessex. I am not particularly in the mood to make enemies of the entire Ascended family right now, and I suspect she can keep him in check. As for Zariah…” she sighs. This one is harder in so many ways. ”I am also inclined toward exile. Though I admit, I fear what she might do out from under our noses. I think I fear what she might do under our noses more though.”
Remember when I swore That you and I would never die
Korbin nodded. "We might have to, if there's a shortage of firewood," he pointed out. "But I'll set up a group to look in on the storage rooms. We need to see what can be salvaged from the infirmary too... I'm afraid it won't be much. You might want to hold Loren back from other tasks for the time being. His healing magic will be needed more than ever." He frowned at having to say it, but it was true. Without the herbs and medicines, Korbin's own use was minimal, and if the stores of the town healers were damaged too, they might be in trouble. People would always get sick, that was just life.
He watched her play with the knife, and smiled wryly at the old gesture. He'd always thought it was a strange safety-blanket... It just showed how much strain she was under, if Weaver resorted to it now.
"You could make use of Neron outside of Halo," he suggested, thinking of what she'd said about making use of every opportunity. "If he cares so much about this place, then he might be willing to serve it in a different capacity. An official exiling might be a good cover if he were to, say, gather information on other regions." An idiot the former Warden might be, but he might be a useful idiot and take his destruction elsewhere.
"You might want to get in contact with the leaders of the other regions, and let them know exactly on what charges you're exiling Zariah, if that's what you end up doing" he suggested. "That might minimize the influence she gets beyond our borders." He did not suggest using her as a spy; Korbin didn't think the woman could be trusted, or controlled. The idea of that much power roaming free was terrifying, but they just couldn't keep her here. The people would never tolerate it.
