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!
Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling
No hoisting or carying was needed. Korbin didn't go happily or even willingly, but he yielded to Loren's prodding and dragging. Tears kept leaking down his cheeks, unstopped, and every once in a while his spine began to bend, as if some great pain made him double over. But he stood when dragged to his feet, and walked when given no other option
Ashes. It was all ashes. In his wake. Waiting ahead in every version of every future he could imagine. His hope and light had always been a slender woman with dark hair and fire in her eyes, and the image of her hovered before his eyes. Stronger, when the Kraai came into view. It wasn't far. Weaver had purposely placed the bar close to her own house so she wouldn't have to walk far. Lazy. Practical. So very like her.
Like a contrary horse, Korbin balked before the door to the tavern. The place was painful to be around. He'd always disliked the Kraai. Now it reminded him too much of her.
"No," he tried, in a broken whisper. "I can't..." There were too many people inside. Too many memories.
But where else would he go?
Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone
Thankfully, the fight had gone out of Korbin. When the younger man pulled away as they reached the Kraai, Loren halted. Sending a pulse of understanding to Korbin, the healer immediately shifted direction. His phoenix still circled overhead, and they were getting both curious and concerned looks, but he ignored them.
Instead, he just headed straight towards the lodge where the elders of Halo gathered. It had remained relatively untouched by the destruction that rained down on the Citadel. Pushing inside (hopefully), he finally dismiss his creature as he led the other man to a spot right by the fire. That done, Loren fetched a fur that was rested nearby and draped it over Korbin's shoulders.
The elders watched them with wary eyes. However, their expression grew concerned and understanding as they took in the state of the two men and realized who they were. One of them, an elderly grandmotherly looking woman who nevertheless looked tough as hardened leather, grabbed a bowl of stew and a mug of shitty ale and thrust them at the Hale.
Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling
The understanding that washed over him was like a slap in the face. But when Loren turned about and dragged him off elsewhere, Korbin followed. A puppet he was. Led here and there, dragged into a dark building that reeked of smoke and old people. Korbin found himself pushed down by a fire, and as food and drink was shoved into his hands he took them reflexively, only to stare numbly at it. After a while, he sat it down and dragged the furs closer about himself.
There were eyes watching him. Old eyes, full of pity. Did they know what the soot and ash on his face and hands meant? Could they tell, by the singed hair, the burn scars in his coat, what he had done? Failed to do? Would any of them understand? He didn't think so. These were the elders. The hardest, toughest lot in all of Halo. They had seen sorrow and faced danger for years beyond his imagining, and still they refused to give up. If any loved life it was these wizened men and women.
He would have nothing to say to them. Didn't have words for Loren either. As far as Korbin was concerned, the healer had betrayed him in the worst possible way. The man had ruined everything, taken away the peace and freedom Korbin so desperately craved, denied him the only thing he wanted.
After a moment of staring into the fire, he could bear it no longer. Shifting into a raven, Korbin shuffled out from under the blankets and flew up into the rafters. It was dark and hazy with smoke... but at least no one could stare at him there. The emotions that streamed from him towards Loren were just as dark and baleful, unforgiving.
Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone
As Korbin set the food and drink down, Loren sighed. Exchanging a glance with the elder, he nodded at her, letting her know that he would handle it. First, though, he picked up both the stew and the alcohol. Taking a spoonful of the stew, he sipped from the beer as well.
Then he sighed. Making sure they wouldn't be overheard, he spoke quietly. "I tried to take my own life once. I thought I didn't have anything left to live for." Closing his eyes, his expression grew grief-stricken. "Nothing is ever going to ever make this less painful for you. But...the pain becomes familiar after a while."
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Up near the roof, perched on a wooden beam stained dark by the soot and dust of ages, the raven tucked its head away under a wing. A million protests streamed down the bond, heedless of any other attuned in the room.
"That is exactly why I chose the fire," his thoughts whispered, half drowned in the flood of anguish that came with. "Maybe your life has meaning, but mine don't. Not anymore. Not ever. Why are you condemning me to this existence?"
It seemed worse than any punishment, more cruel than any torture. What kind of reason was there to keep breathing if getting used to a never ending pain was all he had to look forward to?
Shouldering the anguish, Loren just did what he could to project a sense of warmth and comfort to Korbin. It was hard, given that the healer was barely fending off his own despair, but he managed. Your life has meaning. To me, if not to yourself. That's why. He wasn't above the pleading edge that colored his thoughts, though he wasn't proud of it.
However, he recoiled at the other man's accusation. "I don't hate you." Loren was so startled, he actually spoke out loud. It was clear from his mind that he cared for Korbin a great deal, even if the healer was shitty at showing it at times.
It won't be easy. But I've been done in this pit you've found yourself in, and I know the way out. I know you don't want this, and won't for a long time. Maybe never. But I'm never going to give up trying to help you. His stubborn determination reared its head, and he stared up at the raven.
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
It sounded like lies. Korbin wanted it to be. If it were, then he might have found the strength to remain angry. But it was next to impossible to lie through the bond. Maybe in times of great peace and calm one might be able to filter out the right emotions to paint false pictures, but this certainly wasn't such a time.
And he couldn't block out Loren's projected emotions. Couldn't prevent them from reaching him, just like he had been unable to prevent the healing. The calm wasn't his, but it washed over him anyway. The comfort wasn't something he wanted, but he was wrapped up in it all the same, like another warm fur draped over hunched shoulders.
And what did you do when someone swore not to give up on you? What could he say? It was true, Korbin didn't want help. Despite the man's assurance it still felt like he was punished for something, taken revenge upon. If not hate, then what? He just couldn't believe that he meant anything to this person. Didn't want to. Didn't deserve it even if it was true, because he had done nothing to earn it.
Yet the raven was tired and lonely and weak. Perhaps the bird, or its body, or some deep hidden instinct still craved the life Korbin so vehemently tried to reject. Feeling Loren's gaze, it gazed back, a glint of blue among the shadows. And after what seemed like an age, it spread its wings and glided down through the air, and settled on the ground beside the healer. Hesitant, bewildered by its own actions, reaching and rejecting and curling in on itself all at once.
As Korbin finally flew down to settle by Loren's felt, his relief was palpable. Still projecting that comfort and warmth, and what little reassurance he could offer, he finished the drink and the food. Setting them down, he hesitated for just a moment.
Then he shifted into the form of a goose. Hopping down from the chair, he spread his wing to hopefully rest it over the other man, pulling himself snugly into the healer's side. He didn't think more words would help that much. But he would stay here, mourning Weaver, or just holding Korbin, for as long as the other needed. Or at least would let Loren do it.
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Actions had always spoken louder to the raven than words anyway. He was a bard, or could have been one; Korbin was far too familiar with the ease one might twist truth by what one said and not. It wasn't even necessary to lie in order to deceive. Words were ultimately hollow, so much hot air, until one with actions proved truthful. Or trustworthy.
He couldn't say if this changed anything. Come morning, he might be back to the same old Korbin, reticent and closed off. Selfishly thrusting his grief in the face of anyone who dared to approach, disbelieving every word they said to soothe or comfort.
But it was hard to argue this simple act of Loren's, and maybe that was why Korbin sat still and let the goose drape its wing over him. Let himself be pulled close, and held. A part of him still wanted to recoil from touch, but it was drowned out by other needs. He nestled his head back beneath his own wing and thus disappeared almost completely against the larger bird. Let warmth and comfort wash over him, until the weariness won out and he began to drift off to sleep.
No doubt they made for a funny picture. A goose and a raven, huddled together by the hearth in a house full of curiously staring old people. After a while however, when it became clear that none of the boys would make a scene, the elders went back to their own rest.
Loren didn't really care how they looked, or whether Korbin was just humoring the healer because it was the path of least resistance. Holding the other man close, Loren just shuffled a bit so his wing was completely covering the other man. That done, the healer settled down.
Still projecting that warmth and comfort, he tried to shut out the rest of the world. Thankfully, the elders left them in peace. Between the fire nearby, the exhausting events of the day, and the food and drink he'd had, he was drained. Just like the other man, Loren found himself drifting off to sleep.
