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!
Cleaning up after LongNight was an accustomed thing; normalcy for Naturals to come out of their shelter or homes to discover remnants of what they’d left behind. It used to be scattered portions of their farmhouse, shingles loosened, tossed, or thrown across terrain, portions of sheds broken off or away, doors off hinges. But since she hadn’t stayed amongst their old world, and strayed within the Temple instead, a witness to all those dramatics, trials, and tribulations, the youth didn’t bother heading towards the family homestead; leaving it abandoned for now (unless Evelyn was interested).
Instead, she meandered through pathways of the Settlement, familiar haunting grounds from a child until now, amongst the dead of night. She had no need for the moon’s light, but it was there, prominently in the sky, just the same. Her cloak was drawn over her features, the lantern light of houses compelling an eerie, spring like glow, too ethereal, too enigmatic. Mabel meandered from place to place, checking over fragments and slivers, until she ultimately came upon a main square, noting bombardments of debris, rubble, and ruin over the cobblestones. She could start there – still a semblance of pride for the only world she’d ever known. The Ascended grabbed hold of a few shards of glass (perhaps from a fallen window?) and started making a pile of the debris to dispose of later.
No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber
Letha was not sure where she wanted to settle, now. She had started to touch up an abandoned house for herself here in the Hollowed Grounds before Deepfrost. The encouragement of Wessex, however, and her love for the sea, had pressed the woman to Torchline for the season. She mostly kept to herself there, only seeing Nate before Longnight. To admit she had been afraid of that world -- this world -- during Longnight was not something she wanted to do, but it was definitely there, somewhere. She returned to the Grounds, still contemplating her future, when she stumbled upon the wreckage.
She stood in the square for quite some time, amazed at the damage that one week created. While there were still some parts of the settlement that were perpetually damaged from its history, this place was not really one of them. Letha knew this was a well-trafficked area. Movement caught her attention, and she retreat some back into the shadows. Another cloaked figure moved into the square. By the actions, it seemed just as amazed at the rubble as the ocean-eyed woman. Watching for a moment, motionless, Letha finally decided it was safe.
Stepping from the shadows, Letha reached down and gathered an armful of rubble. She walked over to where the--though unknown--other ascended was gathering the shards of glass. "Need a hand?" She asked.
Deep in her motives and speculation, the youth’s actions repeated and reverberated in a well-oiled pattern. Mabel knew how to clean, had been doing so from a tender age with farm and younger sibling duties, knew how to be careful with debris and rubble, knew there had to be some measure of pride instilled within. Glass was collected carefully, efficiently, not wishing to damage her flesh, even if she couldn’t feel it, and larger fragments and slivers of splintered wood taken to another section. Eventually, she’d divided up and separated portions, even finding some that could be re-used for other projects around the Grounds.
But her attention deviated as another approached – her night vision seeking the other the moment she heard unfamiliar footsteps and strides, sharpened gaze pinpointing and landing upon the stranger. The older, though likely not by much considering Ascended aging, woman seemed to have no druthers or regrets about picking up the debris either, extending an offer that Mabel couldn’t quite refuse. “If you want,” came quietly, the voice not sullen, but seemingly nonchalant, unaffected. Guarded, reserved, she waited a few more moments, partially yearning for it to not just be her and her sister all the while, forming their own small cluster of Brightened ones, and partially longing for something other than her impudence to remain in the murk. “I’m Mabel.”
No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber
The woman paid attention as she approached to where the other one was placing her rubble. She put each type of debris in different piles. Finding what matched the armful of jagged stones, she dropped them as the other woman agreed on her help. "Letha." She offered her name in return, registering the one given to memory. Mabel. The glint of teeth, sharp and bright and perfect, gained attention as the other spoke. Letha smiled some, her own fangs glinting in the moonlight. "Have you always lived in the Grounds?" Letha asked, trying to tip-toe her way towards the information she wanted.
She turned and went back to work as she awaited the answer. She picked up more broken stone and brick, placed it in the pile Mabel had started. She looked around carefully, continuing to clean. "Were you here for Longnight?" She asked, again, because for some reason she felt as though she should converse with the other woman. After all, Nate had said that making friends required talking. Letha did not know this girl, knew she was a new member of the family, but she was another woman, and Letha wanted her to be her friend.
Mabel found more and more stones, fragments of some chiseled thing broken, perhaps, and bits of mangled pottery. The latter was a bit more disappointing in its splintered fractures; it was likely something lovely, then gone, taken, and battered against the rest of the wake. She turned them over, hoping to catch whatever paint or detail left lingering. It was an odd sense of loss, to see some amount of it underneath moonlight and lantern glows – before shoving away the sentimentality, dropping them in a pile of matching accord.
Then the other woman was talking, and the youth tilted her head, indicating she was listening, while her eyes searched for more rubble and ruin. Letha; and then glints of fangs, brethren and kin in this belligerent void. “Yes,” to the first question, voice nearly airy – lived here her entire life, and with not much to show for it. Not until recently, when they’d been allowed, permitted, to alter their stance accordingly. No pain, no hunger, no naught but the Voice and the darkness.
She crouched down, snagging at a few more pieces of the pot, kicking over some bricks when her hands were full, raising her head again at the next inquiry. “I was.” Then, on intrigues and curiosity, because she’d yet to go through any portal, hadn’t been anywhere else in her stint on this earth, and hadn’t seen Letha in the Temple, her own question emerged. “Where did you stay?” What else was out there?
