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!
Towers of ice burst up from the snow-covered valley and Morgan smashed them with her warhammer, the glittering structures lasting barely a second before they were nothing more but mist. In the remains of what had once been the training grounds she spun and lunged, swung the hammer hard into the enemies she made and destroyed.
With her panting breaths, she let out puffs of white air into the cold; for just a moment she felt some catharsis, that she had found some way to get out at least a little of the anger and grief she had held since the Palace had been destroyed. Having gone long enough to feel lighter she decided to take a quick break, catching her breath as she leaned on the handle of her warhammer and looking over the palace debris.
Returning to the site of the disaster was a common practice for the man, to help clean up where he could, to learn to accept the wanton destruction that has been wrought. Talk of gods or spirits or other such cosmic forces were still so foreign for him, so difficult for his scientifically wired brain to take in, that he tried to come to terms with it in the only way he knew how: By researching more into it.
The sheer magnitude of the damage was a sight to behold, even as layers of snow slowly settled over it, softening the jagged edges. Still, there were things to be salvaged amongst the ruins - wood could still be burned, furniture used, bedding and blankets. And he could learn more about the sheer destruction power that was magic in this land too.
And besides, it all provided a distraction from the otherwise dismal emotions that varied between guilt, grief, depression and abyssal numbness.
Some surprise coloured his expression at a nearby sound of something shattering. He couldn't quite place it, couldn't attribute it to anything specific, and so he went looking - and saw the vibrant woman smashing the last of her icy minions with her weapon. Vaguely he recalled her face from that night, unable to quite place a name but knowing she was in the guard, possibly even ranked?
He approached her, no real goal in mind, waving in greeting. He face was serious but soft, a smile not quite able to break through the sorrow that otherwise plagued him. "Hey," his voice called to her, as he outstretched a hand to her. "I'm Chulane." He glanced to the warhammer, then raised an eyebrow as he looked to where the icy pinnacles had once stood. "Whatcha doin'?"
Morgan was pushing a hand through her hair trying to get it behind her ears (usually she pinned or tied it back, but the last few days had been such a blur she supposed she must have forgotten) before she started again, when a sudden greeted cut through her training trance and to her mind. She turned, her eyes landing on a man she vaguely recognised from the Citadel but did not know anything of.
For a dreadful moment she thought he might be there to demand vengeance for a lost family member or love in the guard; it hadn't happened yet but she knew it was only a matter of time, until someone came to her full of grief and anger. Thankfully, he just seemed to give his name and even chipperly asked what she was doing, in a surprisingly casual way for the times.
"I am training." She explained, making an ice pillar easily with her magic and gesturing to it. "They make good temporary targets. With the grounds covered in the palace debris, I need to find a new way to train my guards."
Magic still amazed him. It always would, probably. He wanted to know more about it, to learn all that it could do, to learn how and why it worked the way it did - he knew he probably would never unravel such mysteries, knew it unlikely that he'd ever get to wield it himself in the same sense that an 'abandoned' wielded it. He had the gift of the attuned, which was magic enough for him, for now.
As the icy pillar rose from the ground, his own icy gaze widened a moment, before understanding settled in his mind. He nodded at her explanation. "Makes sense," he added, eyes eventually drawing up to meet hers. He was rather unkempt himself, having spent the better part of the morning stacking wood piles, and otherwise exploring the now-ruins of the palace.
"I had intended on getting more training, before…" he let the sentence die on his lips, his mouth tugging into a sad line for a moment, before he shook his head, as if banishing the thought. "If you're up for it, I could use the distraction?"
Had Morgan been coming off of the back of any other week, she would have been amused by Chulane's reaction to her magic: her master over water had lost some of it's allure to her by now, the ability long ingrained in her. Now though she simply nodded at him, looked blankly at her pillars and to her hand as if noticing the power for the first time.
When he said he had wanted to train himself, she raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. She'd expect a neater presentation from a guard, but that sort of thing could be taught: an idea blossomed. "What are you training for?" Morgan asked, looking for a weapon on his back.
"Alright. Here." With ease she motioned with her hand and three ice pillars grew up around Chulane for him to do with as he wished, each about a foot thick. She stood back to watch, ready to push the shards of ice away from him as they appeared: after all, she wasn't a sadist. No point slicing the man up when he was trying to practice his aim.
He frowned slightly in thought at her question. What was he training for? Why did he seek to improve himself in combat, to improve his strength, his coordination? For what reason could he want to?
Where he came from, such things were not necessary by the masses. Such things were not expected of civilians, especially those who leant themselves to the sciences. Which was why Chuy was grossly under-practiced in that area. He was a scientist, a veterinarian and a farmer, one who dedicated his body and mind to the art of healing and supporting a community.
Halo needed support, just not in the way his home-world professions had made him. He looked to Morgan, before looking at the ice sculptors she so she summoned forth. He reached beneath his cloak, to reveal upon his belt, a set of throwing knives that Kia had given to him hung.
"I'm still really terrible at these." He said with a half-grin, holding one up. "Any tips you have I'll be glad to hear." He commented, before making to throw the first knife at one of her pillars with the air of someone who had definitely been practicing this, but was far from being proficient.
Morgan had been expecting the man to pull out something far more substantial than the set of throwing knives; her surprise was clear on her face, as well as her doubt that he would even manage to penetrate the ice with them. Flesh was one thing, but the ice pillars were hard and unforgiving, not made for roguish weapons.
As suspected, the knife hit the pillar, made a dent, then bounced right off. With a scoff Morgan bent down to pick it up and pass it back, melting the ice pillars around them as she did. "You would be better suited to try and fight me, with those. A target far more yielding." With that said she took some steps back, held up her hammer and nodded to him, waiting to see if he would throw.
He never did claim to be good at it. He winced as the knife merely bounced off the ice, coming to the same conclusion as Morgan about their unsuitability, just a bit later than she. He accepted it back from the woman with a nod of thanks, listening to her advice.
He was not a fan of the idea of throwing the knives at her, but then he considered it for a moment. Wasn't that the whole point? He was grossly unprepared for a combat situation, and combat situations seemed to be far more likely in the realm of Caido than they did on his home world. Maybe throwing knives wouldn't make much of a difference against an experienced foe, but then, he could only become more experienced himself by starting somewhere.
He nodded in agreement as she stepped back, preparing his grip on the knife again, aiming it to land somewhere near her thigh area. He hoped that she was quick with that hammer to deflect should his path prove true, before he released the weapon once again.
Chulane seemed hesitant to duel with a human opponent: this was something Morgan had seen before in her inexperienced guards, usually those who had come straight from loving family with starry-eyed dreams of protecting the Citadel but no idea what that actually involved. Sure that it would be an easy enough fight she readied her hammer but did not especially prepare herself mentally.
That he aimed for her thigh was a little surprising, though she supposed it was the kind of thing you were supposed to do with throwing knives, which were a rather underhanded and sneaky weapon. The unexpected aiming of the throw meant she reacted a little late, but easily deflected it with her hammer still, with a swing and a step back.
"That was good. Try throw a few in quick succession." She suggested, raising her hammer and bracing herself.
His reasoning for aiming for her thighs was because if he ever did aim at a person, it would be to disarm them, to use non-lethal force before ever striking a final blow. He was a doctor, a preserver of life - he sought to learn this so that he could defend himself and those he was coming to care more and more about.
This world was vastly different from his, and he knew he had to adapt, or die.
He watched as the knife flew towards its target, bracing himself - at least he could apply first aid effectively should she need it if he got lucky and managed to land a blow. But she deflected it, and he was relieved to see it - and also quietly pleased with himself.
He nodded, with a quick "K,", then did as she instructed, plucking a knife out and throwing it, repeating the action in quick succession once, and then slightly slower as his fingers stumbled over the third. The first two were aiming for her thigh area again, the final one would be lucky if its trajectory took it to her calves.
Chulane followed her instruction and threw out three more knives. While Morgan usually advised against aiming for the same place twice because it was too predictable, she ironically was not expecting him to: the first hit, scraping against the side of her thigh and nipping her skin. She was quick to move after that, stepping to the side and back to dodge the next knives: if the sting of the cut bothered her, it didn't show.
Once she'd stepped back, she swung her hammer towards Chulane, more to see what he might do than anything else: if he did nothing, she would stop it short of making contact with him: she was not out for blood.
He actually managed to hit her, and he was surprised, honestly. Maybe his aim was getting better after all - the first thought that ran through his mind was that he'd have to tell Kia. The thought lasted barely a fraction of a second, as a warhammer was now swinging towards him.
"Whoa!" he said as he side-stepped in an attempt to get out of its reach, some agility from his time as a vet dodging the kicks of unhappy cattle or horses coming to his rescue. A blow never landed though, and as he got his shit back together and looked at the hammer, he saw it hovering threateningly over his leg, which evidently didn't quite make it out of reach.
"Whew," he said appreciatively, nodding in understanding. Right, he had to be aware that he was on the defensive as well as the offensive. Gathering his knives again, he flexed his fingers slightly, before giving the nod that he was ready to go again.
He stayed in motion this time, picking up a quick step to the left, throwing a knife towards her leg again, before changing course and suddenly shifting towards the right, and throwing two knives at her arm. He kept a quick pace in this direction, and after another few steps threw yet another knife at her legs, knowing his aim and accuracy would likely be greatly impacted by the introduction of this motion, but also knowing that the only way to improve was to do.
Morgan perhaps allowed a small smile to grace her lips at Chulane's exclamation and jump; as much as she wanted to feign complete professionalism, there was something a little cathartic in scaring the man just a touch. "I am not aiming to injure you." She explained calmly, wondering how he thought her guards got through their training sessions if the blows were real.
He tried something sneaky for his next move: Morgan saw at the last second where he was changing his aim to and tried to turn out of the way. She successfully dodged the knives aimed for her arm but in the process stumbled slightly back, righting herself by driving her hammer into the ground with the experience of years. "You could be very good with some time." She told him between a few breaths.
Grossly under-practiced in any form of combative art, Chulane was very much learning-as-he-went with this whole training thing. He could probably come to the conclusion about good training methods when he was less in the strike zone of a warhammer - and he appreciated Morgan's tutelage nonetheless.
He was a little disappointed that his trick shot didn't land a hit, but he was pleased to have given it a fair go all the same. And at Morgan's words, he beamed, also catching his breath. "Thanks. I'm not used to throwing at a live target." he gathered up the knives again, putting them back into their covers on his belt.
"I might have to give a warhammer a go next time," he quipped lightly, before the moment passed, and the gloom of recent events resettled over their little zone once more. He sighed - it was going to be this way for a while, little pockets of distraction in amongst a long time of sadness. Normal would return, it was just going to be a vastly different normal to before.
