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!
Sick though the queen might be, Wessex was still in charge of the Grounds and the ascended family. It was an unspoken truth, but her position as demigoddess had sort of forced here there whether she wanted it or not. So while the writer was not really in a position to help with the important tasks, because relatively weak and politically-unpractised, as a writer he thought that perhaps this was where he might be most needed. Not even him, really. But if Wessex wasn't able to do the things she wanted to, perhaps all that was required was a body to do the work for her.
Enter Edwyn.
Well, he's too polite for that. So instead he knocks upon the door of Thyskra house. It's a bit harder than normal, if only because sick as the queen is, there's every reason to think he needs to...be a bit more just now, in everything he does.
Laser beams we're about to awesome all your dreams
Wessex’s original housekeeper answers, the same one she’d had the first time around. Now, Wessex would be hard pressed to immediately remember her name at this point (it’s Daphne), but she knows the face. Daphne, also a Natural, immediately recognizes the writer. “Edwyn? I don’t know if Wessex is expecting anyone... but I’ll let her know you’re here. Come on in.”
Ascended business, she thinks with just the slightest hint of bitterness as she shows Edwyn to a medium-sized, furnished-but-not-fancy room and then disappears out another door to go and find the Queen. She can hardly complain when her position gets her extra food, but the politics is a bit unsettling. Nevertheless…
When the Wraith hears who’s there, she’s as intrigued as she can be. Edwyn has never really bothered himself in the politics before, and he seemed both responsible enough and safe here, so she hadn’t checked on him in awhile. Looking unnaturally exhausted and as if she’s trying to hold it all together, here eyes bright with overheating, she enters the room and sinks into the nearest chair.
Cheerfully the writer bobs his head, entering into the house with appropriate politeness. If he senses Daphne's apprehension at all he gives absolutely no indication, offering her a charming smile for her efforts as she sets off into the house.
As Wessex enters, Edwyn turns from where he stands near a mantle, admiring some paintings and dried flowers. The queen looks rough and ragged, not that he'd ever be so callous to say so. He can only imagine what it must be like to be ill, given what they are. Having only been an ascended for the past 7 years or so, Edwyn can only vaguely recall what illness is like, and the sight of Wessex now makes him all the more thankful for his ascension.
"No, quite right." He agrees, taking up a seat across from Wessex with a great deal more grace as he too sinks down. "But I thought with everything going on I should stop in."{s/ay} Truthfully he thought all of this (this being the sickness) would have blown over by now. It really had taken the ooomph out of Wessex becoming queen of the Grounds again, especially with what it meant for the ascended. "I wanted to tell you that I took care of the shrine in Torchline." Sitting forward, blue eyes glistening with genuine pride and self-accomplishment, he flashes the queen a bright smile. "And with that done..I wondered if there was anything else you needed?" Holding up his hands almost apologetically, the writer shrugs. "I know I'm a bit of a homebody, but with this sickness? That strange notice from the fae? This thing with the metal? Well, I suppose I wondered if you might be able to point me in a direction."
Laser beams we're about to awesome all your dreams
If it’s praise and pride Edwyn wants, he’ll get it in spades - when the Wraith hears about the writer’s accomplishment regarding the Torchline shrine (something that had very much slipped her mind, what with everything going on - even though somehow she knew that the last endeavor had killed Mabel), pure relief sweeps through her. Ice-blue eyes close and she nods, a small smile creeping out before she opens them again and looks at him with the air of both a proud older sibling and thankful supplicant.
“Thank you.” It’s all she can say right now, hopeful that her tone conveys the depth of her appreciation for his work. Pulling a pad of paper and a pencil from the table by the chair, she jots herself a note and makes no effort to hide it. Edwyn repaired the Torchline shrine. Tearing the peace of paper off, she places it on the table for Daphne to collect later - a way to remember what’s happened when her memory goes back to being blurry and ill defined.
And there will be yet more asked of him, though she currently has the good sense not to ask him to murder the Fae (no promises on later). “We need lilies,” she begins without much explanation. “From the Climb. To maybe trade for the metal. If Loren won’t -” give it to them, they’ll just have to find another way to force his hand.
She’s written down her penultimate move, but they’re not quite there yet.
“Come with me,” she tells him. As guide and leash and voice of reason.
It's a clever system that Wessex has, making notes for her future-self to take care of. It's one Edwyn shares as well. His notebook is full of commentary and concerns that he expects future versions of himself to take up. Still, he nods appreciatively to the queen that she'd bother with remembering his efforts later.
"Lilies. From the hotsprings." He supplies. As for Loren? Well. Edwyn was not the most capable fighter on team-ascended. He wasn't entirely useless of course, it was just that his talents lay in other things. But perhaps he could find Loren and speak with him, if nothing else. As a show of good faith. But since the metal has been given over, it hardly matters.
"Of course." Politely following, his hands clasped behind his back, the ascended does as he is told.
Laser beams we're about to awesome all your dreams
That wasn’t the type of come with me she meant, but it’s as good a meaning as any, so Wessex suddenly rises and walks through to the next room - a far more official looking room - that had once been used for maps and plans and all sorts of things. Those sorts of things are still there, but they’re nowhere near as pretty as the map Deimos made that hangs on the wall. Her things are scattered, collage-like, on the large table in front of them.
When they get closer, Edwyn can see that it’s a board. Half filled with to-do lists and sketches of Tanau and the metal, of monsters and battle plans, and maybe even a picture of Clemente, there is an incoherent sense to all of it. Alas, such are the meanders of a delirious mind, and perhaps only a delirious mind can understand it, as Wessex crosses her arms and studies it, shaking her head.
“No,” she declares suddenly, without looking at Edwyn.
“No lilies.” Pointing, instead, to something on the board, she now looks at the writer.
'Whatever you need.' Edwyn offers with the utmost genuineness despite having very little idea what it is the queen is talking about. But then, he had a word: Fae. That's more than enough to go on. Part of being a good writer is the ability to research and so, with this lead, Edwyn will try and do as much as he possibly can.
"Fae." He agrees solemnly, before glancing back the way they'd come. "I shouldn't keep you. You're obviously incredibly busy. I'll work with the others, and we'll speak about this again." It's an easy way of shifting any potential awkwardness Wessex's mind might have the cogency to feel, back onto him. She isn't crazy or unintelligible, she's just busy. And that's why she's only left him with one word.
It's fine. It's all completely fine.
"Thank you for your time." With a slight bow and chipper smile, the writer exits.
