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 both a blessing and a curse, to feel everything so very deeply
Amalia has had a difficult week.
She's definitely sick. She's been able to piece together that much together through the haze of her delirium and the spiking, unsteady fever. Sick, and yet somehow she keeps forgetting, finding herself in places that aren't Remi and Ronin's house or her bed or the bakery or anywhere else she thought she would be.
Like now. Now Amalia finds herself at the familiar foot of a familiar shrine, a place of so much catalyst and change in the Shield's life. It all blurs together in her mind, moments and memories snapping like shooting stars through the fractured facets of her conscious thinking. The foundations of a shrine, a wedding that isn't hers, dark eyes full of cosmic madness, walking barefoot in the grass. A bearded face that's dark and handsome, a face she loves with all her heart. Whose face is it? Amalia wonders, unable to focus long enough to find details in the haze.
Everything is too hard to focus on. She's tired, so very tired, loss and failure and change and illness piling up and driving her down, until she feels simultaneously light as a bubble and heavy as lead. It's far too hot to be wearing this skin, yet Amalia finds too much comfort to give it up. She'll just settle down in the sunlight and take a quick nap. Hopefully Safrin will be able to help her feel better.
All she wants is for her mother to come and take the pain away.
Safrin cannot whisper herself into dreams quite the way Ludo can. It doesn't mean she is without the ability, only that it isn't as well versed. Stil, sunshine steals into the feline's dreamworld, banishing the dark shadows and sickly fragments of broken horrors that have started to infringe on the core of her. Sunjata...Deimos...and now Amalia...
It wasn't just the lightning, then.
"Were you planning on sleeping the day away?" Safrin asks with a bemused twist of her lips. "Then again, it seems like you might need it."
it is both a blessing and a curse, to feel everything so very deeply
She peels back an eyelid and finds the goddess there, though whether there is here or elsewhere still remains unclear. These days everything feels like a dream or nightmare; Amalia has resigned herself to never quite knowing if she's actually awake.
Still, the sight of Safrin is comforting, eliciting a loud, rumbling purr from the depths of the leopard's lungs. I'm very tired, the Shield explains, a fanged yawn that nearly splits her jaws illustrating this remark. Her vision swims, but she clings to Safrin, a beacon in the swirling dark. I think I'm being punished. For failing Vi.
Rolling over, Amalia manages to move about an inch, seeking Safrin's touch and warmth. I don't know what's real anymore. Large dark eyes turn up to the goddess, swimming with a child's faith in her mother to chase away bad dreams. I would like to feel better now. Please.
These are strange waters for the two to swim in; a teetertotter where they are both strangely equal in weight and yet hopelessly unbalanced. To console Amalia in terms of Vi is to accept her as being closer to an equal than a follower. To dismiss her concerns would be to hurt one that she's so cherished.
"What was it he told you to do?" Placing a starlit hand upon the creature's upturned ribcage, Safin breathes light into the warm (too-warm) fur with a soft smile.
it is both a blessing and a curse, to feel everything so very deeply
Because of Kiada. It hurts to even think the name, flashes of feathers and heat and stone cascading behind her eyes. The starlight on her ribs is a warm balm, hot as comets and wonderfully real, even if it's not. It reminds her that she's here, that Safrin is here, her constant companion, her beloved guide. Amalia clings to the comfort of the touch, curling up around the offered hand in a distinctly feline motion.
He told me to protect them all. The words echo like thunder, a hammer pounding again and again and again upon her skull. To protect them with my life. And I tried, I tried, I stopped them from hurting him and I shielded and I tried but I'm alive and she isn't. She's swimming in the fire and I'm so cold and alone.
A shiver ricochets down her spine, and her thick hair fades away in places, scales taking its place. I would like to feel better now, Amalia repeats, closing her eyes as another shudder shakes her like a leaf.
"Sometimes sacrificing your life is not what a situation calls for." The goddess replies with a sad shrug. "You could have jumped in after her, and it wouldn't have been enough." Her fingertips ghost over the scales, tracing out their shapes as silence softly falls around them.
"Vi would ask you to lay down your life when it would accomplish something. But you've only one life to give Amalia, it can't be offered so freely." Is this what Vi would say? Or is it selfishness on Safrin's part?
"I know you would." The goddess soothes, her hands cold waves of starlight upon Amalia as they press into fur and scales. "I am not sure Vi will be able to help, as he did before." Safrin admits softly, though whether the admission is for Amalia's ears or her own isn't' entirely clear.
it is both a blessing and a curse, to feel everything so very deeply
There is comfort in the touch if not the words, cool starlight pushing through the fever, clearing the spiderwebs of fire and ice that dance across her brain. Through eyes briefly rid of their fevered film Amalia looks up at her goddess, desperation clear on her half-feline-half-qilin face, realization cutting like a knife through the illness that clouds her mind.
Then what do I do? the not-leopard whispers, mental voice full of fear. I don't think I'm the only one who's sick. Deimos, and Finn, and... A thought occurs to her, a memory that pierces the rest of it like ice. Cold fingers on her cheeks, black in the eyes of a starlit being, cruel words hissed in a beautiful voice. It had been her fault that time, and now...?
Amalia scrambles back an inch, breaking away from Safrin, suddenly afraid. The pain of a night not a year before plays out like fire, and she isn't where she is anymore, but she's there and then, watching herself fail. I am a mortal, she echoes hollowly, words that were said to her when their roles were reversed, that never left the darkest recesses of her soul. This is not a fairytale. You will let me fade away.
"You try." Safrin replies soothingly, though her words are likely not a comfort just now. Abruptly Amalia peels back, the goddess allows her. In this dreamscape of the Shield's mind there is no harm to the deity should she go to the girl, but equally, with as fractured as her soul is, Safrin does not want to risk further breaking what little semblance of self she has left.'
"Even if I did, you belong to Vi now." Safirn replies. Amalia's fate is no longer tied to the goddess. No longer can she be thought of as a follower, having been elevated to so much more. "But no, it still isn't a fairytale. The answers will not be brought to you on the wings of bluebirds. You'll have to fight for them." The goddess adds. If she's stung by the memory of the blight she doesn't show it, instead sitting up straighter and holding a hand out to the strange feline-hybrid before her.
09-10-2020, 04:30 PM (This post was last modified: 09-10-2020, 04:32 PM by Amalia.)
it is both a blessing and a curse, to feel everything so very deeply
She hesitates, drawn between then and now and not sure which direction is real, which memory is right. The goddess who sits with hand outstretched blurs, her eyes growing dark, her fingers sharp, her tongue cruel. And yet the girl loves her, trusts her, would do anything for her, even in those moments of the deepest dark.
It is inevitable. She will always return, always approach, always take the hand. Feline and human skin shifts and mingles, long, soft fingers extended to slip into Safrin's grasp. Even in the dream the goddess feels real, her lighthouse, her family.
Her friend.
She settles in before the goddess, placing her chin upon her lap. "I will keep trying," Amalia promises, eyelids heavy, drifting closed. "Will you stay with me until I wake up, Safrin? And after... even though I belong to Vi, can I still come to you?" Her voice is fading, a sleepy murmur, though her grasp upon the goddess' hand remains. "I'll always love you. Even when the stars are dark..." You were my first love.
