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!
It is performative at best, the random scarce visits she makes to the shrines. Over the years her faith had whittled away, shrinking and shriveling beneath years and years of silence. Of death, of prejudice, of being cast away because of the way she was born, something she had no choice over. Now, in her thirties, Evie is a bitter wasteland of mock respect for the Gods. Her offerings are habit more than piety now, and as she walks away from the shrine she can't help the clench of her fists, the bow of her shoulders towards her center as if curling away from the cruelty of the world.
It makes her cheeks burn with embarrassment and shame. Like a scolded child being sent away to her room without dinner. Furious at the way the Gods make her feel, at their disgusting bias against her and those like her. Have they ever considered that they are at risk of creating more Ascended by treating them this way? Of course the Abandoned would flock to a benevolent God with an open ear, someone who would care - though that's a convoluted mess she won't touch - and give form to the aimless faith most Abandoneds have. It hurts, and she hates that it still does even after all these years of silence.
It had been a fine day for hunting amid the drifts, and the pair of pale-furred friends trotted home atop the snow with their heads held high. In the white fox's jaws a pheasant was clenched, head lolling from its broken neck while Isuma bounded, half-gliding, beside him, a fat mouse in her beak as she mimicked her companion.
They topped a hill and a flame-haired head almost made the fox stumble in surprise at the young woman a short distance away. He scrambled back over the crest to transform, then rose and brushed the snow from his clothes with a faint grimace as Isuma chortled and cast him a bright-eyed look of mischief before bounding ahead to greet Evie with muffled peeps of excitement. Jigano followed, pheasant in hand, trying to regain his dignity as he waved at the new Healer and approached with a smile. "Evie, what luck. I wanted to come see you soon, but what brings you out this way?" A sick farmer, he assumed, or perhaps searching for winter herbs amid the snows.
The day may be beautiful and plentiful for the man that ventures upon her, but Evie feels as if she's wearing blinders. Completely focused upon the turmoil in her breast that forces each breath to come tight and fast. Angry, ashamed, and embarrassed at her own stubborn hope that alights in the moment before her offering touches down upon a shrine. After nearly thirty years, she has nobody to blame but herself for continuing to pray.
Jigano is a wrench in that spiral of conflicting emotion, yanking her forcibly from her thoughts as she blinks quickly at his arrival, as if stunned by a ray of sunlight. His joy is antithesis to her current emotional state, it's almost startling. It helps smooth her hackles at least a little, even if her frustration and despair still seeps into her tone as she replies. "It's good to see you as well, Jigano. I...actually just came from the shrine." The rictus of her face hardens, trying to chase away any remnant of anger from her face if not her voice.
He wasn't so distracted by his own good hunting fortune that he missed the tension in her jaw or the edge to her voice in spite of her courtesy. Pausing for a moment to sort through her meaning he swiftly realized that her shrine visit must have been of the fruitless variety.
If not the cursed kind.
"I've been banned from the Shrine in the Fields," he admitted with a faint grimace. Isuma looked between them, a small peep of concern making it past the mouse she held as the bard fell in beside the apothecary and the trio continued to walk away from the source of her frustration. "I... haven't told Amalia that, so I'd appreciate if you kept that to yourself for now, though." A trading of secrets, as they had done once before, and he gave her an encouraging smile. "I've always felt more at home at the Shrine in the Glade... or the one in Ludo's Woods in the Greatwood, truth be told. It can be eerie, yes, but Ludo has often been kind to me when others among the gods... have not." To say the least.
A soft sigh of regret gives way to a weak smile towards Isuma, wishing she were of the condition and desire to interact more fairly with the adorable companion. Jigano's admission draws her attention away, too tired to conceal the surprise that colors across her face like errant shadows. "What? Jigano, what happened? Were you cursed?" That seems to be happening far more frequently now, with many Naturals flocking to her clinic in a tizzy that only worsens when she cannot revert that which they have been afflicted with.
A firm nod is the vow that seals her silence. "Of course." Though, now that she's reminded of their last private meeting, Evie wonders what the man might think of The Voice having flaunted her secret to Sam without a second thought. The revelation had drawn them closer, but it had been quite traumatic for Evie in the moment. Despite such a betrayal, she still longs for that closeness, and bites down upon her tongue to hold back any further vitriol for now. "Ludo treats you kindly? What...what is it like?" As spooky as she imagines? She has no sense for the childlike nature of the herald, so effectively ignored is she.
Isuma wasn't precisely reassured, but she settled to watch her companion and his friend while nibbling the ears from her mousey snack. Jigano glanced fondly down at her before turning his attention back to Evie ruefully. "I suppose no more than before." A reminder of their Flowerbirth meeting, and the exchange of magics in mending a bird's wounded wing. "I had gone to apologize to Safrin for not being respectful enough to her in the past. She... toyed with me and then cast me out. For good, this time. I'll never see her again, likely, unless it's truly to be cursed." His smile was wan and forced as he spoke, a deeper wound beneath the surface that was still fresh enough to ache.
A lucky thing that the Voice was not mentioned; Jigano's luck with goddesses in general was particularly bad. Ludo, though, raised his spirits and his demeanor softened as he drew the raggedy god to mind. "The first time it was capricious and tried to scare me," he admitted with a fond chuckle for that night. "But it agreed to a deal with me and held it fast." No doubt that Ludo, at least, meant what it said, where Safrin did not. He hummed thoughtfully, falling in beside Evie so they could walk and stay warm while they talked. "It can be as changeable as the moon, and just as enduring," he sought to describe the soul guide. "In its white mask and ragged black robes, it has an eerie appearance. It likes to kind of 'spook' the living, I think." His smile turned wry. "But it's... comforting, too. Playful and almost childlike in the sorts of offerings it prefers. It seems to welcome prayers with purpose, but it's not vain like Safrin or forceful like Frey can be." He hesitated, then gave Evie an apologetic shrug. "It is impossible to predict, though. What will pique its interest on any given day or not... is hard to say."
He suspected he was on shaky ground, but he edged ahead tentatively anyways. "What drew you to Safrin's shrine?" Of all the gods, why that goddess?
Not exactly an inspiring response, but his honest is well appreciated all the same. "Why did she cast you out? Surely whatever you asked for is not so grand or offensive as to warrant exile?" Though she privately considers the fact that her own dislike of the gods makes her far more inclined to believe the opposite. Still, someone as devout as Jigano, even as a hybrid, would surely have more luck than she?
She doesn't press the subject. Instead listening with an admittedly starving ear for the kindness of which he speaks. A vague smile coming to her lips as his smooth, storytelling voice winds onward. It's heartening to hear, and yet just as similarly depressing, to feel so far away from such a simple visitation. When he directs a question her way, it takes her a prolonged moment to notice, so caught up in this ephemeral daydream she cannot touch.
"It's a good a shrine as any when they never answer you after nearly thirty years." Her voice is bitter and cold, eyes staring off into the distance as they walk alongside each other. "The Voice betrayed my status as an Abandoned to Samuel, so it appears my luck with any God new or old is non-existent." Sighing she gives herself a shake, trying not to be a bitter conversation partner. "I'm glad you have that sort of relationship with Ludo, though. It is the first time I've heard of a positive experience from someone."
His smile was sad, but there were wounds in his eyes, deep and unhealing as he looked away. "I asked for forgiveness," he said softly. "Instead she offered me... power. Temptation. I suppose... I failed the test, greedy as I was. I wanted to earn her forgiveness and through that her blessing. But... that's all it was. A... game to her, I suppose." She'd never any intention of sharing her knowledge with him, he knew that now. She had only waited for his mortality to exert itself and then she had pounced, a cat toying with a mouse.
Evie's kind company was a soft balm on a memory he had yet to share with anyone else, and he was grateful for her presence, this woman with whom he traded secrets in stolen moments.
He tilted his head in silent understanding of her bitterness, though his most recent divine interaction had left him wondering if it wouldn't have been better if Safrin had never answered. He winced in sympathy at hearing of the Voice's casual cruelty - again, always some new trespass against the people of the Grounds, it seemed - and grimaced at the thought of Evie going to the electric goddess.
"Without it I might never have angered Safrin so deeply," he admitted wryly. "But then again, she has never liked me, so perhaps it is just as well that I have one good thing to balance out the hate of two goddesses." He tilted his head at her, considering, then drew a deep breath. "If there is something you can think of, that you'd like to ask from Ludo, I could go with her? It might be more inclined to come if we prayed together," he suggested, uncharacteristically tentative. "As a healer I know it might not be your first choice but... well. Think on it. Let me know after LongNight."
"What are we aside from pawns, really? Our life span is the blink of an eye to them." She doesn't truly believe that anyone can become close with them, not when they are a mere speck of dust in the grand cosmos of the universe over which they preside. They walk in companionable silence, Evie not sure what else to say. Sorry doesn't convey everything she feels, and it's clear he has come to terms with the manipulation - or at least is in the process of it - and Evie is certainly the farthest from an expert on gods.
"It's not so much my predilection towards healing that would stay my hand, but that I fear I have forsaken the gods entirely. If I change my mind though, I'd certainly appreciate your company." But does the offer come too late? The idea has grown from a seedling to a firmly rooted oak, and Evie is terrified by her own conviction. Ah, LongNight. Speaking of, she idly follows Jigano back to the farmhouse, their conversation straying to less weighted topics. It doesn't fully diminish her anger at the injustice of the world, but it's something. She gifts him the remains of her snow moss, helps him lay it about the house, before she gives a little curtsy and a weak smile and heads back out into the snow to prepare for her own long days of darkness.
