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!
the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't
His body did not soften when Delphine came for him. Instead of interlacing her fingers with his, she was only able to wrap her hands around his closed fist. the muscles in his shoulders tightened, and he acknowledged her with his eyes but he had no words to say. She wrote her instructions and left. Noah stood where he was for quite some time, seething, his eyes cast down to the raven. He listened to him speak, his voice venomous. The older shifter's jaw muscles feathered. He wanted to grab Korbin by the collar of his shirt and thrust him up, get in the boy's face and scream at him, and do exactly as he questioned--force feed him the herbs and tea and food that Delphine prepared for him.
But, he didn't. If Weaver were here, she would have. The black haired mage would have grabbed him by his ear and twisted it until he screamed and then she would have thrust the herbs in and clamped his jaw shut and plugged his nose until he was forced to swallow.
Noah was not Weaver, and he never would be. He knew that. He still cared for the raven, however, and despite his anger at his words, and his actions, he stayed.
Time seemed to move too slow as Noah stood there, silent. The anger that Noah felt, he knew, came from a place of his own grief and hurt. Hurt that, despite their conversation in the Kraai before Longnight, this was the Korbin he was looking at. He knew--and told the younger shifter--that he would not get better over night. But Noah had hoped with all that he was that he would be trying harder than this.
Finally, the blond man sat. He sighed. He rubbed his face with both of his rough hands. "Korbin--" he started, leaning his forearms against his knees and looking at the raven's back. The way he was curled up in the cot was so reminiscent of a child that it nearly startled Noah. "--why are you doing this to yourself? To the people around you?" He had a strong guess as to what the raven would say, and he was not entirely prepared to accept it. "I know Delphine can...come on strong," An understatement, if there ever was one, "and her ways are different than what we're used to. But, she's trying to help. If you don't want that, its fine. She doesn't have to come around anymore. I'll keep her away." Noah knew there were two sides to every story, and while he heard Delphine's recollection of their interactions, he had not heard Korbin's.
so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow
The silence was uncomfortable. It gave Korbin too much time to spend with his own words, in suspense as he waited for Noah's response. Weaver would have hit him first, then force fed him, and then hugged him until he caved and spilled everything on his mind. Helped him pick it apart, pointed out all the bullshit, and shone a light on the pieces until he found a way forward.
But Weaver wasn't here. Others tried to do all those things. Attempts had been made, but it was never quite enough, because a fundamental key was missing. There was no trust. Not with Kiada, not with Chulane, or Delphine. Loren had been the closest to gaining it, but he wasn't here either.
That only left Noah. And his silence was more effective than any punches thrown by others. The question, when it came, was more painful than Korbin had thought it would be. Curling up on himself, he tried to ignore it, respond to silence with silence like before... But this time he was too worn down. Lack of food, sleep and a constant abuse of his own body had brought Korbin to a breaking point, and Noah's words ate past all defenses. If the venom wouldn't work, and the silence failed, then... then he was out of options.
Why did he do this to himself? To others? It was about more than the grief. Losing Weaver was a monumental disaster and he would never stop aching over her absence, but it was not the sole cause of his behaviour. It had started long before, and only got worse. Why?
"I- I just.. I don't know how to stop," he admitted, finally. Wished for something to hide behind but the pillow of his bed was the only thing he could find. It felt wholly insufficient. "She won't leave me alone. None of them. I say no but they don't listen. I can't... I'm not the person they seem to think. I can't give them... whatever they need."
What else could he do? If being nasty was the only way they would leave... It wasn't like he had anything else. There was no kindness left. No empathy, or care... He was empty, and granted no reprieve from intrusion to recharge.
the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't
As much as Noah wanted to hit Korbin before, as he sat and spoke to the raven, his body decompressed. He watched the younger Hale, even as he kept his back turned on him. The wrinkle in his forehead that clearly expressed his worry returned, and his jaw muscles relaxed a little. It really was startling how young and scared the raven looked, curled up on the cot before him. Noah wanted to reach out and place a hand on Korbin, but he was sure that any physical interaction would be met with violence on the part of the Hale, even if they made headway.
He listened to all Korbin had to say. Really listened. Noah was doing exactly what he said he would--he was staying. He was here. He would do what the raven needed (which, probably wasn't always going to be what he wanted). He understood what Korbin was saying. He felt suffocated by these people -- these outlanders -- who didn't know what it was like here in Halo, what the Hale had suffered. Even if they had their own trauma in they histories, there was still no bridge they could cross that would bring them to the common ground of growing up in Halo and facing what Korbin had. Noah was the only one left. Noah knew the hurt of loss -- while Weaver may not have been his sister, he loved her as close to one as he knew; Erebor may not have been his brother, but he was his best friend before he died.
"I think it's hard for people to convey that what they want is truly just for you to be okay." Noah leaned back in the chair. "I don't think that people want anything from you for them. I mean, I could be wrong. I don't know their motivations. It's just what I assume." He folded his arms, and sighed deeply, again. "People don't always know how to help the best ways. I'm guilty of that too. Lots of people don't want my help and I force it on them anyways." People, he knew, were prideful at their very core. "If you didn't have to do anything for anyone else, what would you do for you?" Korbin's life had never really ever been about him. Noah had always seen that. He was the youngest sibling, and his identity had always been wrapped up in what Erebor and Weaver were. Korbin had never had to stand alone, on who he was--he was always in their shadows.
so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow
It was all that was left of him. That scared, young child who suddenly had lost all the people closest to him. No parents, no siblings, no home. It had not been malice that made Korbin set it on fire. Rather the opposite. He cared, deeply, painfully, maddeningly about his family. Loved them more than anything, more than himself. Had never cared to seek anything beyond them, and clung hard to what he could when it kept falling apart around him. The boy had forced himself to grow up too quickly to keep the others hands free, but how much of it had been a facade? Maybe this was what he had always been. A quivering, terrified bundle in a bed, hugging a pillow to the chest in hope that it might all be a bad dream.
It was hard to open up. Even to someone who was almost family. Especially to this strong, unshakeable man who had been his brother's friend. Noah was never weak. Never broke down, or lost control. They were only almost family. That gap, that distance, it seemed so very vast now.
"They want me to trust them," he replied hoarsely, with an ironic edge to the smile. Korbin turned to his back. "They want me to open up and let them in. To be friends. They want me to care about their woes and cheer with enthusiasm when they deliver clever ideas that will 'save' this place. And they want it right away, without earning it." Like it wasn't the hardest thing he ever did. Like opening up to more loss, more dead loved ones wasn't the most dangerous thing Korbin could imagine.
He stared at the ceiling, lost in the gloom beyond the reach of firelight and lantern glow. Tried to recall what had mattered before everything was lost. There had been the music, and stories. The helping, the feeling of being needed. But most of all... "Fly. I would fly. Far, wherever I wanted. Maybe I wouldn't come back."
Korbin turned his head, gazed with dusky blue eyes on the man beside the bed. It was a look that pleaded forgiveness. Begged for understanding. Surely Noah had to see why he could never do that before. Not while Weaver was still here. She had needed him, at least until she got the Kraai, until Loren... Maybe even then. But now... Now he could.
Who needed him now? Surely not Noah, with his brother and his lover, his job - two of them - and a whole town that relied on him.
the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't
Before Korbin turned to look at him, before he turned onto his back, Noah let his head fall back momentarily. The wall felt cool against his skin, and it was somehow grounding. Even though the building was warm and safe (so far), the walls were still cool to the touch and truly reminiscent of the place they were in. Halo was always cold. He continued to breathe deeply, and listened to Korbin. When he felt eyes on him, he lifted his head again and met them.
"Korbin, you don't have to be friends with anyone you don't want to." It sounded like such a simple concept, but it was true. Even if other people wanted his attention, approval, or friendship, it could not be forced. If Korbin truly didn't want the connections, he didn't have to have them. While Noah thought it was beneficial to have those relationships, he also knew he didn't have to shove what he thought down the raven's throat. "There aren't a lot of times in this life I think it is okay to be selfish," He leaned forward again, unable to stay still in his seat as he spoke, "but when it comes to protecting your heart, I think it is okay to be selfish." He knew the words he was saying might even bring Korbin to sever their relationship, Noah still would not force it on him.
Noah wanted Korbin in his life. He appreciated the raven. His humor, his company, his ideas. He had always been closer with Zeke than with Noah, but with the younger Olson venturing the world, Noah had been able to spend more time with him. It seemed, though, that Zeke and Korbin shared the same desire--to go. Why hadn't his younger brother invited the raven along on his journey? Probably because he knew he would have said no--he had no reason to leave before Weaver's death.
"What's stopping you?" Noah asked him, genuinely wanting to know the answer. If Korbin didn't want all of these people pressing into his life, why had he not flown away yet and left them all with only memories of the Hale family?
so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow
It sounded simple and it should be, yet still he kept being intruded upon. He sighed, frustrated and unable to get rid of the feeling. "Tell that to Loren. And Chulane. And Kiada. Tell that to your woman. They don't listen to me." Korbin honestly couldn't see what they were all so eager for. He was really not that great a guy that people should be clamoring to get involved with him.
Guess they wouldn't anymore though.
The question that followed left him speechless. Without an answer. None that made sense, at least. Because Weaver had died, and he had gone mad? Because he couldn't shift with alcohol in his system? Because the winds of Halo were too cold, and he wanted to fly, not freeze to death? Because... maybe he was still hoping. Waiting, for something. Some small thing that might make this existence bearable.
"Maybe... I was waiting? To see if anyone actually needed me still."
Had anyone appeared? Did Neron and his job hunt count? Korbin didn't know. Just that he never really had a place in this town, in this region. He had only ever floated around, been the spare, the extra hands, drifting along in Weaver's shadow. In Erebor's. The younger brother. The soft one.
His eyes stung, and Korbin blinked. Closed his eyes and drew a soft breath. Thinking about what used to be was painful. Thinking about the future was painful. Being here, now, in the present... that was painful too.
"I don't want to be like this, Noah," he whispered, like it was a secret no one else could know. "I don't want to hurt them. But they won't leave me alone, and they won't listen, so I get angry. I lose control. And they're going to make things change again. People will die. They always do when things change."
the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't
Noah understood that his words were more simple in idea than in practice. They were true, however. "Screw em." Noah shrugged, eyes hardening some as he looked on Korbin. "They don't know you. You don't have to let them stay." The older shifter knew that, of course, Korbin had tried to make them go away. Foul words and violence and threats and all of what he thought he could do to push them away. "But....I do think they could care about you. I believe these people--Delphine, Chulane, Kiada, even Loren--I do think they could be good friends if you let them. But ultimately it is still your choice, Korbin, your heart. You do with it what you please." Noah knew that, even as he gave the advice to the raven, this could mean the younger shifter would write him off as his friend, too. It would hurt, and Noah would wait and be ready if he ever wanted to come back, but he wouldn't pry and press and be a tick between the boy's toes.
"I need you, still." Noah rubbed his hands together some, voice straining a little as he suddenly felt choked up. "You are my friend, Korbin." Noah had been so busy with his own life that he had let Korbin slip away from him. Ezekiel had left, and Noah had focused on himself and his own affairs. How dare them. "I am so sorry that I haven't been there for you like I should, even before." He blinked back tears behind his thick lashes. "I should have been a better friend for you. You were there for me for something no one else was, out on the tundra." The sound of the arrow thunking through flesh and the wail of the woman that followed haunted him, and it was easily seen in the tears and the way his neck muscles tightened. "I need to be here for you, in the way you need."
Broad hands lifted to rub his face, and he swallowed hard. He hadn't realized how his emotions had been locked up so tight about all of this. It all hurt--the changes, the Citadel attack, Weaver's death, Korbin's actions against himself--all of it. Noah sighed, again, letting his shoulders roll forward as he looked about the room for a moment. He stood and walked over to the kettle, grabbing a new mug to pour fresh water into. He prepared it like he would his own tea -- with only eighty-percent of the sweetness Delphine had made it. He walked back over to the cot, sat, and offered the raven the warm, fresh mug. "Things change. It's just the way. Even the tundra is different every time we set foot on it--the wind and snow moves and shifts and changes, the luxere herds choose new grazing grounds, the wolves choose new hunting grounds. It all changes -- we just have to be willing to adapt. It hurts less, if we're willing."
so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow
It felt good - so good - to have his feelings validated. To hear that he really wasn't obliged to befriend any of these people. Just because they seemed to care about him he did not have to care back, or like them, or let them in. He knew it, and yet... every turn of the way he had been badgered to relent. Even Weaver had, though perhaps for selfish reasons as she was keeping company with Loren.
Maybe Korbin just was a stubborn goat, but he hated being coaxed into things. The more someone tried to make him do something, the more he struggled against it, until it reached these ridiculous levels. Yes, he was still a wreck and he had lost faith in much, but would it be half as bad if he had been left alone to figure things out? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he was just as broken and twised out of shape as he felt.
A lump was starting to form in his throat, and it grew bigger as Noah's voice choked up. The apologies made him feel guilty, enough that Korbin slowly, painstakingly pushed himself up to sit.
"You had your own problems," he mumbled, gaze averted. Not sure what to do with this vulnerable side of the man. Was he causing this? "I didn't want to add to them. I was fine, things were getting better. But then the cultists came, and Weaver..." He trailed off, shrugged helplessly. Korbin had been pushing people away long before his sister died, and maybe he had been avoiding Noah too. If he only had one person to care about there was only one vulnerable spot in his heart, and surely it had to be possible to protect at least one person, right? Right.
What a perfect lie he had told himself.
Sitting silently as Noah rose, Korbin remained quiet and submitted himself to some long, hard introspection. He definitely had issues, more than one, and to some degree perhaps it could be chalked up to interference by those others. But... no, he hadn't been helping himself. Or asked anyone else for aid. And even if there was a kernel of truth in everything he'd told Chulane and Kiada, it was really amped up to eleven, to hide how tired he was, how lost and helplessly lonely. It wasn't something he wanted them to see. And he didn't want them to fill the void either.
Sighing, Korbin pulled the knees up to his chest and leaned the head against them. When Noah returned and offered him the cup, it was accepted by hands that wouldn't stop trembling.
"It just feels like I can never catch a break, you know?" Korbin turned the mug between the palms, waiting for it to cool. "There has been something, non stop, ever since Weaver got that bright idea of opening the bar. I've never gotten the chance to get used to any of it before something else comes along. I've been told to give it time, but it's never quite enough."
Blowing on the tea, he sipped it. Grimaced at the taste of honey, too sweet even like this... but at least it was drinkable this time. "It's not like I hate her, you know. Delphine, or whatever her name was." It felt important that Noah knew this. "But she's trying to mother me, and you know I can't stand that. I never... meant to hurt her." Not really. Not very much.
the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't
When Korbin took the tea, Noah sat. He was glad that the raven did not refuse it, and he actually drank it after a few moments of letting it cool. It made a small wave of relief wash over Noah. "Problems or not, I could have done better. And I will do better, if you'll let me." Relationships--friendships, kin, and romantic all alike--took work. It was a two-way street that Noah knew he had not been walking on well as of late. In all the change--the change that Korbin loathed--Noah had gotten too caught up in himself, his duties, his responsibilities. There were things to be done, but there were also people to attend to. It was why Morgan chose him for the position he held. He cared about the people of Halo. However, in all his actions, he had actually forgotten how to do it.
As he sat and listened, all he could do was nod. He had successfully swallowed away the lump in his throat and wiped away the tears from his eyes. The break of making the tea served its purpose, for him and for the raven. "I hear you." He had probably even said it himself, that time would heal wounds. He believed it in his heart -- he believed that one day the sound and sight of his arrow leaving his bow wouldn't make his stomach turn like it did now, even hunting creatures he had fell since he could draw back his own string. "but, to be fair, that much time hasn't passed." He didn't want to hear it for himself, even. It had only been two years since the first signs of the outsiders came to Halo with the arrival of Neron, and only a year with the waves of them truly coming in. The Kraai had only been open for a few months--but Weaver's dream of it had been alive for years.
"I know." Noah nodded again. He knew that Korbin had not meant to hurt Delphine. Otherwise, Noah might have been having a different conversation with the boy. While his actions were not wholly excusable, now was now the time to address them. He hoped that Korbin would see in time how he had acted, and seek forgiveness for himself. "She's hurting, too. Her children died just before Deepfrost. I think she is trying to heal her own hurt by helping other people, or doing what she thinks is helpful. From what I know of her, mothering and tending and caring is all she knows how to do. She's just clinging to that as a comfort." While the woman was overbearing, Noah had accepted her behavior because it had not been harmful--until she crossed paths with the raven.
so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow
If there was anyone Korbin might accept help from, it was Noah. Nothing came easy, and it wasn't pleasant, even talking to him, but... at least he trusted the man. They might not agree always, but Korbin knew the hunter would have his back. And he would watch Noah's... if he ever managed to get back on his damn feet. Right now it was hard just to admit that it wasn't awful being alive.
"We're friends," Korbin said quietly. "I'm a shitty one right now, but... I will try to let you in."
A bleak smile ghosted across the raven's features. Gods knew it wasn't that much time. Only months, weeks, days... memory had not even begun to fade. It was one upturn after the other, and soon the sun would return and new streams of outsiders would appear. Questions would be asked, condolences delivered, challenges delivered... It gave Korbin a headache just to think about. That urge to fly away was strong, but he was tied down by so many things.
"Wish she would cope on someone else. I know I should be offering to help here, but.. I'm sorry. I can't stand it. Don't have the patience or the energy to deal with other people's grief right now. I suppose that makes me selfish in the bad way..." The furthest Korbin could extend was more effort into not snapping at the woman. No guarantees, but he could try.
Turning his head towards Noah, he studied the hunter more closely. There were signs of wear on the man's face, in the slump of his shoulders and the way he sat in his chair. It made him feel bad, for adding more burdens onto a heaped up plate.
"I'm sorry. For being difficult. For not getting my shit together. I should be helping out, not... wallowing." Like Kiada so aptly had put it.
the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't
Korbin's smile, though without the usual light it held, made Noah's features break into his own smile, although it too lacked the usual light. His cheeks did not wrinkle his eyes as they normally did, but there seemed to be a tension easing up between them. It still felt heavy in the room, the aftermath of both of the shifters' outbursts not yet completely faded. He reached out and placed his hand gently on Korbin's shoulder and gave it one squeeze before pulling away again. He let out a chuckle at Korbin's wishes, and he nodded too. "I understand. She is a lot. Being cooped up for Longnight definitely isn't helping, but I think she'll settle down soon." He could tell that staying in one building for so long without any reprieve of nature was weighing on Delphine. It was weighing on him, too, and he couldn't wait to be out on the tundra again.
"You did help. You worked hard to set up and keep stocked all the fires until people knew their way around here. That was incredibly helpful. It's okay that you can only do so much--I'm not expecting you to forget your own grief and serve the people. It's not your job." While Korbin was also serving drinks from the Kraai's stock, Noah had also gotten word that that hadn't gone over too well in practice. "I just...I want you to be okay." Even that felt like too much to ask of the raven, but the hunter was desperate for his friend to walk towards healing.
"You're right about how you shouldn't be wallowing," Noah ran a hand through his hair, scratching the base of his neck, "but you don't have to jump to the other extreme either."
so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow
Korbin couldn't recall that LongNight had ever felt quite this long before. While he had warned Loren once that it had a way of bringing out both the best and worst in people, he had never felt it so keenly himself. Granted, previous years had been spent in the Hale house, with Weaver and Erebor and whatever guests they felt like inviting over. A cozy week, spent in festive moods with singing and storytelling, with good food and drink and a rare chance to just relax.
This year, everything was fundamentally different.
Noah's hand was a warm weight on his shoulder, there and gone again. The lingering touch stirred up far too many emotions, painful and good at the same time. Almost against his own will Korbin found himself relaxing, the dull ache beneath the temples easing as the tremble of his hands subsided.
"I know. In my head I know, though when it comes down to it... at some point it's turned into all or nothing. Either I'm in over my head or won't touch something at all. Was I always like this? It's like I don't even know myself anymore."
His shrug looked lost, helplessly frustrated. What was good? What did it mean to be okay? In this strange new world where Weaver no longer existed, where everything that seemed important no longer was there... where did he even start to figure things out?
"I dont... know how to do this," he said, holding on to the cup like it was a lifeline. "The bar, the pulling myself together... It used to be so easy, and now it's not. What do I do?"
Noah had said he wanted to help, and now Korbin looked up at him like he was hoping for answers. Instructions, even; anything at all that could serve as a starting point. Like it or not, he had regressed into some overgrown child, lashing out whenever it hurt, unable to figure out how to act, what to do, where to go... Not incapable, but utterly lost on where to begin.
the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't
Even though the two men sat here talking, sharing with each other, Noah wished that they had the ability--like Loren--to use their attuned bond even in human form. Then, Noah would be able to feel all of Korbin's truth, all of his feelings and the way that they shifted and changed like the tide on the ocean he had visited once before. Noah stood to move towards the kettle once more, and fixed himself his own cup of tea. Being up in the middle of the night was starting to set the exhaustion back in his bones, but he wanted to stay up and talk with the raven--whatever he needed. He knew Delphine would be laying in their bed, drifting in and out of light sleep, unable to let herself fall into a dream cycle without him there with her. With the herbs still steeping, he moved back over to his chair beside Korbin's cot.
The hunter couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, you have been." His chuckle was a light, throaty one, but it made the familiar wrinkles form in the corners of his eyes. "I've never not known you to do things lightly. You've always given one hundred percent of yourself or none at all. I don't think that's a flaw. Erebor was quite the same." He smiled at the raven, lifting his still-hot mug of tea to take a small sip of it. He was used to hot beverages, and the temperature didn't bother him much.
"I think," He swallowed the tea, leaning forward a little on his chair towards Korbin, "That you just have to start with one good thing a day. One step in a healthy direction. Stopping this excessive drinking, that's one step. A damn good step. I also think you need to do some investigating about what makes you feel good -- you're going to have to figure out who you are, Korbin." Noah meant, who he was without his family. It was a hard pill to swallow, and it would take effort, but Noah truly believed that one day Korbin would be okay again.
so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow
Being compared to his big brother made the raven smile wistfully. Erebor had always been an unachievable standard. Taller, broader, kinder, more skilled, infinitely stronger. To be even remotely similar to him was the highest kind of praise... not that he'd earned it.
"A good thing, huh..." He dragged fingers through the hair, scratching the scalp. An answer that was annoyingly vague. But it wasn't like he could ask Noah to take charge of his everyday schedule. If he wanted orders and a structured life, Korbin might as well join the Shields and put his days in Morgan's tender hands. It was, if possible, even more suffocating than a life spent indoors.
"It kind of makes me feel guilty, you know," he mumbled, awkward just by admitting it, "if I feel good. Like it's diminishing her absence. How can I let myself laugh when Weaver is dead? How can I just move on? It feels so wrong."
He felt guilty for only talking about himself too. Noah had things going on in his life, Korbin should be asking questions, be interested and offer help back. Yet here he was. Starting every sentence with I, me, my...
They were right. He was selfish. Selfcentered. Maybe even a proper narcissist, like Kiada said. All he could do was absorb the strength from others and give nothing back. Like a leech. He even kept his friend awake by keeping up this endless chatter.
