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 was strange for Anden. As he looked into Bastien's eyes, and listened to his words, the man seemed to be a role model for what Anden should be. He was at peace, calm, having accepted his life here. Anden knew that he should be more like Bastien, but so much about Caido, and the Grounds made no sense to him. It was like Bastien was a flame burning down the wick of a candle, while Anden was still burning down a forest.
As Bastien's face morphed and transformed, Anden felt himself falling backwards in his seat. "Wha- How?!" Was it the same magic that allowed Oliver to transform into an animal? "That is... Definitely a choice." Anden realigned the chair, before getting up and sitting down once more. Sitting down again, he was able to collect his thoughts. "The Voice chose us? Why though... Why does she need us here? Wouldn't it be easier to change the people here, people who already know about this world." He knew the idea that he was selected was suppose to make him happy, to calm him, but it only frustrated him more.
Anden laughed. "I'm not the artistic type. My hands are good for chopping wood, and that's about it. He tried to picture himself sitting down, painting or sketching like Bastien was, but he couldn't. That was something Eloise Marie would like, but not him.
"So let's see it. What do I even look like? Anden hadn't even seen his own reflection since he arrived in Caido. What if like everything else The Voice decided to change that. For a moment he was afraid to even look down at the sketch book.
Leaning back, Bastien laughed at Anden's reaction to his facial changes; really, the power hadn't been useful for much more than shocking people, but that was still fun in of itself. As for the question that came afterwards, though...he quietened and put his hands before him on the table, trying to consider it over; he did not entirely know the answer himself. "Well...I suppose it would be because a couple of years ago, The Voice and all that lived in this town were trapped here by a barrier put in place by the Old Gods. There was no one else to recruit here. ...Then I suppose it just continued after." Bastien shrugged, unsure why it was that the Voice had continued to take Outlanders.
He'd heard, so often, from so many people, that they weren't 'artistic'; Bastien tsked and shook his head. "Come to my studio anyway sometime. I promise you, you will make something to be proud of."
As for what he'd made himself, he gladly turned the book around to show Anden. A competent sketch with likeness, of the man gazing to the side, a troubled expression on his face and a dark hatched pattern in the background. Beneath it read the words: l'uomo triste al bar.
I am the carbon collected. I am the printed upon your stars.
Anden's feelings about the Voice was in a constant flux. Some days he found himself being curious about the Goddess, almost grateful for the things she had done. Most days though, he found himself wishing she had never brought him to the Grounds, that she had never cursed him. Tonight was one of those nights. If what Bastien said was true, Anden didn't NEED to be here. The Voice had a choice. Looking into Bastien's eyes, he could tell that even he wasn't sure why The Voice did what she did. "Are there many of us? Ascended from other worlds?" Maybe they could form a support group, or bring peace to each other.
"I might just take you up on that one day." Anden chuckled. His hands weren't made for being artistic, but who knows maybe that changed too. "Are there many of you there? At the guild?"
It was him. Anden stared at the image of himself. If he was capable of crying, he was certain his cheeks would be damp. He was still himself. Even if the Voice was able to change everything else, he at least still looked like the same man he was before he arrived. "It's fantastic." Anden brushed his fingers against the sketch. Only a few pages away could be a sketch of Eloise Marie. He was so close to knowing if she was here. In an instant he pulled his hand back. He didn't want to know.
What would he do if she was here? Where would he find her. Or worse, what if she wasn't sketched in Bastien's book. Anden wasn't ready for the answers that he seeked. He took a moment to regain his composure. "So is that it then?" Anden pointed at Bastien's book. "Is that what you do here? Sketch the people you meet, or is there more? Is there something else I just don't know about yet?" Everyone talked about how The Voice chose them, but no one ever talked about why, or for what.
"Yes! Well...there are less Ascended than anyone else, and less from elsewhere...so the numbers are not massive, but there are others." Bastien tapped his chin, trying to think of some names for Anden to search for. "There is myself, Nate, Amun...Neron. That may be all of the ones I am aware of, but next time you attend a meeting with the Voice, keep an eye out. I'm sure there are more I'm forgetting." After all, he knew a lot of people.
As for his guild and the awkward truth of it's members, Bastien gave a sheepish grin and looked off to the side. "We've had some members go. Unfortunately some of them...passed...others have simply not shown up for a while. In terms of official members I believe we have four. But the guild's strength is that it welcomes everyone. There are several people in and out of studio each day." Perhaps he ought to start making them join, so it would look a little more impressive when he spoke of his organisation.
He smiled at the compliments for his work, noticing that Anden seemed emotional but assuming the man was simply fragile after his recent upheaval. "Oh, no, I don't make a habit of it. I only sketch people that catch my attention." Bastien took the book back close to him then and thought for a moment, unsure what Anden was asking entirely. "I tend to work on my art and look after my child...sometimes the Voice requires us to complete tasks for her, but I am...not a fighter nor an explorer. She knows this, so my jobs have a tendency to be more...creative and peaceful."
I am the carbon collected. I am the printed upon your stars.
There were so few of them, and even fewer that Anden had physically met. Really Bastien was the first other ascended he knew. The first one at least that wasn't inside of his head. The warning from the women's voice inside his head rang through his mind once more. She mentioned names he'd never heard of, so Anden continued to ignore it. "Does it ever get lonely? Us being... Well so different."
The guild seemed nice. A small tight knit group of friend who were all artsy. It seemed like a small spec of joy in the darkness of the grounds. "Sounds like you've made a place for all to enjoy."
Anden listened to Bastien's smooth voice as he explained his role in the Grounds, and with the Voice. The Voice always seemed to have something for the Ascended to do. Bastien doing what could only be explained as odd jobs for his Goddess seemed so different than what he was expecting. So much about the Voice seemed to be unknown to Anden. What was she after? "Fight... Explore? Is this world not fully explored yet? Is there still more to it?
Bastien seemed to be a peaceful man. Quiet, but caring. Everything about him seemed at peace, despite the world around them seemingly in a battle with itself. Had he just given up, or did he find a way to channel everything into a tranquil life. Either way, Anden was jealous. His own mind was riddled with questions, and thoughts of his past. Without need to sleep, his mind never found solace, never finding the time to stop and process everything. It just kept spinning.
Anden's question about being lonely made Bastien pause; as much as he wanted to, that was not something he could brush away with promises of family and niceties. "Unfortunately, sometimes, yes. You will find there are people in this world that hate you simply because you are Ascended, and sometimes it is inevitable, I think, to feel less included in the life of those without our bodies and Goddess." There was no point in lying. He did not regret his Ascension and never would, but they were put into another world when the Voice changed their biology, one with less sensation and a bit more danger.
"Do not let them win by allowing them to discourage you, though. There are many who are perfectly willing to accept Ascended, and I hope that by the time we are through with our lifetimes, we will see a world united, instead of one divided." He knew it was an overly optimistic dream; it had been in his old world, and it was here; but Bastien had to wish for it. There was no other alternative.
Nodding, he smiled and looked off for a moment; while he was not much of an explorer himself, Bastien did like to hear tales of the new places people went to, to eventually travel himself once he knew they were safe. "Yes. There are places that no one I know has yet reached. The portals only take us so far, and there are several obstacles to exploring on foot. It is a slow progress, but much more of the world is open to us now than it was when I first arrived. You have a grand choice of places to settle yourself in."
I am the carbon collected. I am the printed upon your stars.
Even Bastien felt lonely at times. For a moment Anden thought the heart ache that would bring him. Feeling on the outs of the people of the Grounds. Feeling left out from the stories, and the relationships that blossomed here. But then it was gone. Replaced with the glimmer of hope that, even the ascended still have their humanity. They weren't just monsters. Deep down they still had the same wants, and needs. Anden was still Anden - just upgraded.
A world united. It seemed even war, and discrimination knew no bounds. Traveling between worlds. Caido was just as broken as his own world. "Thank you Bastien." He nodded his head slightly at the artist. "For giving me hope." Because even in the darkest of days, or the darkest of nights, it was hope that could drown it all out.
The world was larger than he had expected - and the fact that there was even more than they had yet to explore, had yet to understand brought an odd smile to Anden's face. For years he only had the trees behind their inn to explore, but now he had a world filled to the brim with mystery to discover. "One day, I'll see it all." A claim he made to himself. A vow to leave the Grounds, and really live.
"What's next then, for you?" Anden focused on Bastien once more. "After this, what's your next step."
To know he had helped an Outlander, even given him hope, was good news indeed; Bastien broke into a wide smile, nodding back at Anden. "You're welcome. And there is much to be hopeful for! We are in an age of great discovery and change. Much happens here...even if it is not always good, it is always interesting." When he could observe it from a distance, at least.
Bastien raised his eyebrows at Anden's claim he would see all of Caido, but he did not dispute it. After all, the man could live for another thousand years, maybe more, and that was more than enough time to find a way into every nook and cranny of the world. It was not a dream Bastien shared, but he could see the appeal in it; knowing it all, seeing everything the place had to offer. "If I can help in any way, you need only ask."
As for his next step? Bastien laughed. "Probably go home, paint a picture and spend some time with my child. I am not a man looking for grand adventures. I am content to stay here, help those that arrive and make my art."
I am the carbon collected. I am the printed upon your stars.
Discovery. That wasn't a word that Anden was used to. So much of his former life was spent on remaining hidden. Acting as the final gate for those who sought refuge. But in Caido discovery was... Everything. It gave life to the world, it was a beacon of hope for Anden. There was so much to discover. Some much more to learn. From the liquid that flowed through his veins, to the where the winds could take him.
"You've helped more than I think you know." Anden stood up. Unlike when he walked into the tavern, he seemed renewed. Energy flowed through him. He was ready for Caido now.
Anden gave a soft smile at Bastien. "Sounds peaceful." And it was. Anden didn't need to live a life of seclusion like Bastien. He also didn't need to go on hating what he had become. There was a world of options out there for him. He just had to find them. "I'm sure I'll think of something one day. For now though, I need to get back to the manor before Oliver thinks I died... again." Anden gave a slight chuckle, before he offered Bastien his hand.
"I'm glad. It is my job to help, after all. Both officially, and-" Bastien put a hand to his heart, which no longer beat, but he thought the symbolism still counted. "-in here." After all, he'd been in Anden's position himself once, thrust into Caido with no idea what had happened and no way to prepare for a future in an unfamiliar world.
Taking the man's hand gladly, he raised his eyebrows to hear that he was staying with Oliver. "Ah...the young man has a tendency to worry and assume the worst, I'm afraid. Still, good to have somewhere to stay." At least it was a roof over his head and within the Grounds, where Anden was least likely to receive any hatred or trouble for his Ascension.
Wishing him luck, Bastien watched the man go, then slowly headed back home himself, stopping every so often to make sketches and watch the town go by, reminded of his affection for it.
{FIN}
I am the carbon collected. I am the printed upon your stars.
