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!
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
Looking around the room, Korbin had to agree. The colors, the fireplace, the tacky luxere antlers and tusks on the walls... it screamed of Weaver. Cozy, dusky, full of shadowy corners for conversations private and otherwise. The rooms upstairs were decorated along similar lines, as fit for a long stay as for a casual night of fun... All a testament to her easy going, generous appetite for life.
"It's very unfair," he said softly, "that she is the one who had to leave. This was her place. Her dream... one of them. She should be the one to remain. Not me, who never had any. It seemed such a cruel irony, that the one who never cared for life was the one left to live it. Maybe Weaver would like it if he ran her place, but Korbin knew she would have preferred to do it herself.
If Neron took offense to his words, it did not show. Not in a way Korbin could see. Unless it was in that stiff nod. He hummed thoughtfully, not sure what he thought about it.
"Well, there's a child missing, for starters," Korbin pointed out, with narrowed eyes fixed on the former Warden. "Your child. Did Eirachi ever say why she wanted him? Are you sure the boy is dead? There's the matter of repairing the homes and businesses of the Citadel too. Indirect though it might be, your name is on every broken shingle and damaged good."
Leaning back in his chair, Korbin caved to the craving and waved down a waitor for a drink. "Not sure if you consider it a problem, but... ever since the portal opened there's been no messages from the south. At least none that I've heard of? I don't know what The Voice wants with Halo, but she has a theoretical chokehold on this region. If anyone does anything to that portal we will be completely isolated. More than we ever were in the past."
He raised a brow at Neron, and reached for his drink once it arrived. If any of it came out as accusations it was unintentional, Korbin merely aired his thoughts. Some had been on his mind for a long time.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
”Well, if you didn’t have any dreams, I’d say it was your duty to make sure hers come true since she can’t be here any more.” Neron shrugged his shoulders. Granted, his idea of what a good brother might be was twisted at best, with his upbringing. He couldn’t particularly help with Korbin’s feelings about everything - but the other matters? That he could work with.
”Not exactly. My child from another life, if Zariah is to be believed. And I do believe her.” Jace certainly held his resemblance. ”No, the Eirachi never said what she wanted him for - only that she required a child. I doubt that it is anything good, and I don’t think that we will see him again. Either way, it would be a death sentence to send anyone out looking for him until Flowerbirth.” And even then, he doubted they would find anything.
”Once it becomes safe to go out, I will do all I can to repair things.” He could at least make up for what had happened. ”As for word from the south... it might be worth arranging an expedition down there once the snows lessen. There are pathways south, but... you are right. There has been little word.”
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
He blinked. That was... a different take on what he'd already heard. Possibly he might argue that duty was an empty idea. Like the life debt Loren had tried to cash in on, just to keep him alife. If you didn't care about being alive, the concept of pride, honor and other things that were intrinsically tied to life - and the regard of self and others - suddenly became quite pointless. But somehow, somewhere, Korbin supposed he did care. Enough to be bothered by the idea of Weaver being forgotten. And if keeping her memory alive was enough of a reason to keep living, then perhaps shouldering the burden of that duty wasn't more than he could bear.
All excuses, of course. He had been alive for a long time without reason or purpose. Still breathing, still existing. Though one might argue that having meaning was the difference between merely being alive and living.
He was perhaps a bit surprised by how easily Neron accepted his criticism. The counters about Jace were reasonable enough to set his teeth on edge, and a bit too dispassionate to sit well with him. Wasn't admitting a relation to the boy the same as accepting responsibility as a father? Whether he remembered doing the deed or not? "Aren't you even going to try? Once the seasons change?" he asked, even as he realized that it was dangerous territory for him to enter. Treacherously close to hypocrisy. But at least no lives depended on whether Weaver's bar was kept in the family or not.
Aiding in the repairs was a given thing, to which Korbin only nodded. The idea of an expedition south, though... He had never been the adventurous type, but curiosity was ever a curse in humans, and he had always wondered what lay beyond the mountains to the south. Not enough to go look, but...
He smiled. A tight, wry twist of the lips. "You know, I used to hate you. On principle, mostly, but still. And Loren seemed convinced that we would not get along," he mused, tapping the side of the glass with a thoughtful finger. "Now I don't know why he would think that. Of the two of you, he's the one having more problems with frank opinions." And sarcasm. And constant snark.
But so far, he was having no problems communicating with the Hailstorm. Which was... a novelty.
"Once all those problems are fixed, do you have any ideas on what to do with yourself?" he asked. Because if he had to answer that, so did everyone else.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Had Halo made him cold? Or had he always been that way? Neron honestly couldn’t say anymore, but he met Korbin’s question with a thin smile. ”It isn’t that I am not going to try. I just know that risking people’s lives when I know exactly where I might find him is foolish. And... well.” Slouching back in his seat, he gave it some honest consideration. ”The last time I had any interaction with the Eirachi, she was destroying the city after a decision I made. I wouldn’t want to risk the Citadel by chasing her a second time.” Who knew how that might end?
To hear that Korbin had hated him was something that, perhaps surprisingly, brought a crooked, fanged grin to Neron’s lips. It was a refreshing sort of honesty, especially given that he had apparently succeeded in changing the boy’s mind. ”Loren and I did not get along for most of our lives. I’m not surprised he would assume that. But perhaps we have both changed since he made his assumptions.” He shrugged.
As for what he had planned? ”I’m not sure. Do you need workers here? It would be a pleasant change of pace.”
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
Nodding acceptance of that logic, Korbin had to concede that there was a point. One he even approved of, and showed at least a marginal respect for life on Neron's part. It wasn't the frantic, passionate determination Korbin might have expected, but... people were admittedly different. And if the relation with the missing boy was periferial, then perhaps the apparent calm wasn't too strange.
"Eirachi attacked after you broke the deal you had made with her by selling yourself to The Voice," he pointed out. "She hit where it would hurt you the most. You've now lost your son, your home, your title and all trust anyone in the Citadel had towards you, not to mention whatever else you gave up by becoming ascended. Any further actions against this town would only set us against her, not against you... I think you can pursue Jace without worrying about the Citadel." He might be wrong of course, and it wasn't his call to make, but Korbin was fairly sure that doing nothing to discover the fate of the boy would be worse than an honest attempt, whether it failed or not. And if the man honestly asked for help, he might be surprised at how many of his former subjects would step up to lend a hand. Ready to fight for someone who wanted to be one of them, because wasn't that what loyalty was all about?
The flash of sharp teeth sent a prickle down Korbin's spine, but his own smile widened in response, to his own surprise. He wasn't used to that expression anymore, it didn't come naturally, felt stiff and awkward... but it was there.
"Gods know I've had everything changed for me lately... How are you dealing with it? Being the most disliked person in the town?" He glanced away briefly, feeling like he was getting there quickly himself. Didn't want to go on and on about his plight, but it kept creeping back into everything he said anyway. "At least I'm down one prejudice."
He glanced about the bar. Tried to imagine himself being in charge of the place, properly. It felt alien, uncomfortable, but... not impossible. "Suppose I would. Most of all I would need new suppliers, since the plan is to cut off the ones that are in place now." Kicking Sunjata's ass around would be a great way of ensuring there wouldn't be any more booze from that direction. "Can you taste enough to tell a good batch of alcohol from a bad one?" he asked, rather intrigued by the strangeness that was an Ascended. Korbin knew some about their physiology from previous conversations, but certainly not everything.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Humming soft agreement, Neron couldn’t deny that Korbin had a point. Once the blizzards lifted, then, it might be worth pursuing the boy. At least then he could say that he had tried, though there was no way he could risk making another deal with the Eirachi. He fully believed the Voice when she had said she would exact a permanent sort of punishment for going against her - so he would have to tread carefully. ”I’ll think hard on it,” he told the boy, leaving it there for now. There was nothing more to do until the season changed, after all.
Talk of the future in Halo was much more to his taste, honestly, but he had to laugh at Korbin’s question. ”Regrettably no,” he said in response. ”Sight and sound are a lot better than they were. But smell and taste? Not so much. I’ve got the gift of the gab though, or so I’ve been told. For eyes and ears on the place, you’ll find fewer who are better. And my older brother used to run a tavern - I’m sure I could learn how to tend bar.”
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
It was far more of a headway than Korbin had ever expected to make. He was quite stunned to be taken seriously at all, and just nodded mutely, eying Neron with a look of mingled pleasure and disbelief. And it lingered as the man went on to talk about his qualities as an employee, like this was a job interview like any other.
This was bizarre. Why was Neron asking him of all people for hire? Why the bar, why this bar? He should be flattered, probably, to be considered adult enough for the job. No one had tried to shunt him off and take over until he was 'grown'. It was gratifying. Daunting. Terrifying.
"You're actually serious?" he couldn't help but ask, completely unable to hide his bewilderment. "You want to work here? You could go anywhere, do anything." This was the fucking Hailstorm, what had happened to the world when the bloody Warden asked a kid not even out of his teens for a job? Rubbing the back of his neck with a hand, Korbin looked between Neron and the bar. He hadn't even decided if he would keep the place, if he would do the work, and yet... it didn't feel impossible.
"Would you really be alright with taking orders from me?" Perhaps that was what felt most strange. Being in charge of something under Weaver had been one thing; he was just an extension of her, following instructions. This time he would be the one in charge.
Man, he felt like such a kid. It was infuriating.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
”I’m actually serious.” Neron grinned another fanged grin, slouching relaxedly in his seat and glancing around at the bar. It was a far cry from the things he was used to, and hell, a complete change of scenery would do him good. Nothing like facing the ire of a goddess to make him want to go under the radar for a little while. ”Like I said, I’ve got words to have with Sunjata. Makes sense that I’m here ready for him, too.”
As for taking orders? Neron gave a lazy sort of shrug. ”Honestly? I hate taking orders from anyone. But I’ve taken them from a lot worse than you, so I don’t see much of a problem. Choice is yours, though.” Whatever it might be.
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
Huh. Times really were strange. Korbin brougth the glass to his lips and sipped the liquid slowly, buying himself time to stop reeling. He had only come here to get a chance of clothes and have a look around. Now he might be taking over the place, and possibly had an employee? A business to run? Ass to kick?
Dark blue eyes watched Neron surreptitiously, in another attempt to read the man. And yet again, Korbin found himself with nothing but that sharp toothed grin, a posture that seemed content and perfectly at ease. If there were ulterior motives, he could not detect any, and was not in the mood to probe. It would be quite easy to trust Neron Launceleyn. Quite possibly it would be a huge mistake to do so... but it was tempting.
"I could keep it to friendly suggestions," he teased, lured into something akin to a playful mood by the easygoing attitude. "Hypothetically speaking, it might be good to have reliable help..." But then Korbin sobered, and his gaze fell into the amber liquid. "Can I have a few days to think it over? This place, its... it can't be something I do on a whim."
Weaver's dream meant far too much for him to do anything half-heartedly. He needed to think, to make up his mind... and to decide if he really wanted Neron around the bar. It might not be the best way to draw customers, if his reputation stayed the way it was.
It was also a real temptation to simply hand the whole Kraai over and wash his hands of it. Then he would be free to... But no. Not a line of thought he ought to pursue.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Korbin watched and Neron watched right back, with all the patience of a man who no longer feels the need to sleep. The boy seemed lost, like he was far out at sea without a life raft, and the Hailstorm got the impression that the only thing that had been keeping him tethered was his sister. But sometimes death forced you to grow up - Korbin would sink or swim, end of story. The teasing brought a smile back to his lips, Neron tilting his chin in a nod. ”Suggestions I can work with,” he said, laughing wryly and getting up from his seat.
”Take as long as you need. It would probably be silly to make a decision on this side of LongNight, since no one will be going anywhere anyway. Just let me know if you do decide to keep the place, and you want help. For now though, I should probably be going.” He shrugged into his coat. ”Good luck, with whatever you end up doing.”
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
A good piece of advice, and Korbin accepted it with a grateful nod. There would be much thinking and long conversations with others before he made up his mind, but the seed of the idea had been planted.
"I'll think it over carefully," he assured, echoing Neron's own words. "Same. And if you need anything... Well, not sure if I could actually do anything to help, but I could try. So. You can always ask."
No roaring declaration of confidence exactly, but it was the most Korbin could muster at the moment. And he felt inclined to. Neron might be the only one so far who had not treated him carefully, like something fragile that might fall apart at any moment.
It was quite refreshing, and he looked long after the man as he left.
------
- Fin
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
