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!
06-22-2020, 08:57 PM (This post was last modified: 06-23-2020, 08:35 PM by Honey.)
the wounds are open and bleeding out
If only Ronin could spend all of his time sitting at Safrin’s shrine, or walking the perimeter of the Temple where people were nearby. But that wasn’t what this week was all about, so the Dark Star set out to patrol the Sanctuary.
Luxere gathered in their herds, helping to light the way, and Ronin of course had his own set of antlers to see by. He had just helped an older man from his home to the house where his son and family were staying; ensuring that he arrived safely and that nothing gnarly went inside with him.
Now that the task was completed, Ronin set out to walk the streets. His eyes were peeled and his ears were sharp for any noise that might indicate someone in trouble. Who knew whether that someone would be him, if his luck turned sour.
The scream was chilling as it speared through the night. Rather than echoing, the plea seemed to hang in the frigid air, frozen by the low temperatures. Or perhaps dangled like bait.
Boots skittered on the ground, the sound of feet desperately trying for purchase upon snow and stone.
"I'll give you anything, just please spare her. Gods, spare her!"
The frantic begging of a father, followed by the plaintive and innocent wail of a child.
The cry pierced right through Ronin, his head snapping up immediately to the sound. Breath catching in his throat, he broke into a run... then slowed. Stopped. A trap...? The monsters had proven wily thus far.
But what if it wasn’t? a voice whispered in the back of his mind.
And as the voice cried out again, and it became ever more clear just what was happening, Ronin surged forward again. Feet thundering on the icy stone, he skidded around a corner to where the voice had come from, already radiating starlight along with the luxere glow.
”What’s happened?” he asked quickly. ”Where is she?”
A man was hunched over a bundle of rags. Swaddling cloth, actually, though it was dirty and threadbare. He heaved a sob, his large and rounded shoulders shuddering beneath the weight of the thick coat he wore. "It..didn't even want...me." He stammered, turning to look over his shoulder at Ronin with tear-burned eyes.
"It..wanted her..to.." Turning slightly he held up the empty blanket, which had presumably moments ago held the daughter he was pleading to save. Black oozed from the corners of his eyes, mixing with his tears before streaming down his face. For a moment he looked confused as words left his lips, as if they came of their own volition. "It said it knew it would make you come..if it had her...it..said..."
Stumbling to his feet, his eyes bright with rage then, the man screamed at Ronin, thrusting the blanket towards him. "SHE DIED TO LURE YOU HERE." Only then did he produce a knife from up his sleeve, aiming for Ronin's neck.
The light he exuded shone cold and bright over the scene, illuminating everything, leaving nothing to the shield of darkness. And Ronin felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, blue eyes flitting over the ragged cloth, the man hunched over it. Only he didn’t see the stranger, not at first - no, it was Remi in front of him, their daughter pinned his chest by a spear of ice. Blood on her dress. Blood on the ground.
Blood—
He blinked and the scene disappeared. Words began to filter through; the man was on his feet; black leaked from his eyes.
”N-no...” Ronin shook his head, taking a step back, his hands up as if to placate. But what good would that do? What could he possibly do to make up for the loss the stranger would be feeling, the hole punched in his chest that the Star knew too well?
”I - I didn’t...” Didn’t what? Didn’t know? Didn’t think?
Ronin barely skittered back and out of the way of the knife, his breath catching in his throat, and he tried to duck around the man. ”Listen, you need to get inside. You... it isn’t safe. Please.”
"SAFE?" The man roared, swiping blindly at Ronin as he nimbly stepped backwards. He nearly choked on his own laughter as his lips contorted into a snarl as if daring Ronin to say more about safety. About going inside. "She is D E A D." He roared with the voice of one embracing madness with open arms. It was a voice—and look—that the Star would well know. He would have seen it in the mirror many a'time, and in the eyes of his husband.
"They killed her to bring YOU here. HERE HE IS YOU FUCKIN' DARK CUNTS." Arms spread, he gestured around as if expecting an audience to suddenly be spectating, on the edge of their seats. "Who the fuck are you anyways, who's so special eh? That they killed my ki—" The fury deflated as his tongue became thick and his sinuses clogged with bitter tears. Whatever the monsters had or hadn't done, whatever their real intentions, the man's perspective was obvious: Ronin was worth drawing out, and that drawing out was done by killing his child. Who Ronin was to earn or deserve such a thing, he clearly didn't care about.
"How fuckin' dare you." He said in a low voice. 'I hope you burn.'
It was at that moment, a small silver star was thrown from somewhere in the darkness. It had a picture of Aoife on it as a baby. Another followed, showing the girl at a birthday part they'd never held. Another with her hair in curls and rouge darkening her cheeks. Are you going to run away again, Daddy? I don't want anyone else to die, but how else am I to make you stay?
Quite when Ronin had begun to tremble he didn’t know, but it seemed as though he could do nothing else as the man roared his grief, pelting the Star with guilt well deserved. How dare he, indeed. An arm came to wrap about his torso, as if he could try to hold himself together that way. Still stepping backward, Ronin stuttered in a breath as something shiny and silvery hit the floor nearby. And then the voice, so like Aoife but not, slipped out of the darkness to taunt him.
”Give the man his daughter back,” he said through lips gone numb. ”Please. I’ll stay, I just... don’t hurt anyone else. Don’t do this.” In the fractured light of his antlers, he ran a hand over his eyes. ”Just leave the others alone.” He felt it, deep within, as some part of him began to crack along the edges.
Though the silence didn't change, there was a pulse of contemplation followed by movement. From the darkened depths where Ronin's light hadn't reached, the limp body of a child flew through the air. It landed at the feet of the man with a lacklustre thwwump, contorted into a ball, the shape of which only further reinforced the fact she was dead. The man gave a strangled and wet sob, reaching down and plucking up the girl with one hand for she was so light and small.
Alright, he has her back daddy. And as long as you stay, I won't kill anyone else.
Hyperventilating with grief, the man collapsed to his knees with a guttural and primal howl.
Can you put your antlers away, daddy? The light hurts my eyes.
Ronin felt bile rise to the back of his throat as the small shape was thrown from the darkness, knowing instantly what it was without having to look too hard. ”Oh gods,” he whispered, though his words were lost in the howling of the girl’s father. Ronin doubled over, half crouched on the ground, the halo of his light stopping just shy of the man. Somehow, the monster’s voice cut through everything, clear as a bell as it dripped its poison into his ears.
As long as you stay, I won’t kill anyone else.
That was it, then. He had no other choice, really. ”Alright,” he mumbled, defeated.
But his antlers...? For just a second, the light in them flickered; Ronin very nearly decided to put them away. It would be easier, just to succumb to it all. But he held on with every shred of himself, shaking his head. ”I won’t do that.”
No sooner had Ronin rejected monster!Aoife's request, then the bereaved father's cries abruptly cut off in his throat. Making wet choking sounds, he clutched his daughter's body to him with one hand, while at the same time lifting his chin as if fighting to get above some invisible tide. Gasping for air but finding none, he gulped at the freezing air as if he might bite some of it off to fill his lungs.
It's so bright daddy... monster!Aoife continued to protest. Though her voice suggested no strain, it was obvious she was the one cutting off the man's breathing.
Maybe she has no right to be out in the dark, but Amalia had made a promise. And when Ronin did not check in at his appointed time the Shield slipped out into the dark, frightened for her friend and unwilling to stand by while he made a martyr of himself, alone in the longest night.
She does not go alone: a dreamfish swims beside her, and she coaxes one of the luxere along, a buck with bright antlers. Half-shifted into qilin form with a fiery tail and spiraling horns, the Shield grasps her staff, listening and looking for any sign that the Dark Star might be near. She's reluctant to stray too far away, but when minutes pass and she catches no sign of him she knows that she must.
Down a street, still in sight- and there it is. A sound. A horrible, howled cry.
Summoning her entourage and hoping to avoid any onslaught in the dark Amalia makes her way toward the source of the sound, and it is thus she comes upon the terrible tableaux. Ronin, half-shifted with luxere antlers; a man with his back to her, kneeling on the ground; and between them the not-Aoife from their last foray into the dark.
She falls to her knees beside the man, shield strapped to her back. "Are you okay? What happened?" she asks, trying to search for wound or injury, any way to save him. Looking up at Ronin with alarm in her eyes, the Shield calls out silently: Don't listen to it! We have to get inside!
They are so clever with their light, their glowing fish, their luxere...but the monsters are clever too.
Drawn back by the extra light, the creatures hide in the darkness like bitter and starving rats. They consider sacrificing their own to use as a shield, and perhaps it will come to that...for now, they have tricks...
Electricity snaps out from the darkness, striking the shield on Amalia's back. It throws her forward into the ground, spraining a wrist should she use her arms to brace, and skinning her knees. The bolt carries with it a static that sinks into her bones, making her limbs feel far away and sluggish.
The man’s air was cut off and Ronin couldn’t do much beyond the sour taste of fear in his mouth and the thunder in his chest. He needed to move, to decide, and it was just as the light around him began to dim that - thank the gods - Amalia appeared, sprained wrist and all. Shining with starlight and the luxere’s glow anew, the sight of the Shield rallied him somewhat, and Ronin climbed to his haggard feet to lean in beside her.
The monsters killed this man’s child to draw me out. They said as long as I stay they won’t kill any others. I... I don’t know what to do. Ronin glanced frantically around the blackness that seemed to close in at every corner. There is a house not far away, I just helped someone there. We could try there.
monster!Aoife clearly wasn't alone; hungry growls echoed from beyond the ring of light cast by Shield and Star. Claws scraped through the snow down to the rocks below, grinding themselves away like a cacophony of teeth clenching in frustration.
They can't hear the silent communication between the two, but it doesn't take an attuned to figure out what is being said. Run, let's go, we need to leave or some variation thereof. The monsters have played this game for centuries after all.
The man tries to throw Amalia off of him, but he is weakened by his asphyxiation. In the light she'll see how he wants to curse her, the hatred in his eyes that are now starting to ooze black. Still clutching his child, her lifeless body making her look like a doll in his arms, he reaches for the knife he'd dropped, meaning to stab Amalia with it.
