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!
Sam sat curled in an alcove of the Atheneum, a particularly dark corner he hadn't found solace in since he was very young. Nowadays he was honestly too big for it, his feet pressed up against the end and his knees drawn up to his chin, but there was a kind of comfort in being boxed in. It made him feel small, as if he were protected and away from the world at large, which had certainly tested him in the last seasons.
He stared ahead at the rough stone of the Atheneum wall, his eyes moving ever so slightly to follow cracks in the stone. No matter how many times he tried to count them his mind shifted back to the beach, to what now felt almost like a dream, James' body going limp under him and the blood spilled on the sand afterwards, Amalia stared as if she'd seen a monster.
And she might as well have.
Sam buried his head in his arms with a heavy sigh, unsure of how he'd ever return to a normal life after this. He'd cried all his tears already, fallen to rock bottom more times than he could count, and now he was just tired, more than anything.
"Hello?" Arialla stepped lightly between the Atheneum's shelves. She'd never seen so many books in her life -- there were perhaps half a dozen tomes in her entire village, back at home -- and she couldn't suppress the feeling that somewhere in this unbelievable repository of information had to be the key to her return home ... but she did her best to force that thought away. There was no going home; she was trying to accept that now.
And if there was no going home, then she needed to find something to do with herself in Caido. Hence her presence here -- returning to the concept of the Loreseekers. She knew that Jigano had left, and with Samuel living (or rather dying) in Torchline, she didn't know what had become of the guild. While she still wasn't sure whether she wanted to join -- not if Safrin disapproved -- she figured it wouldn't hurt to at least find out a little.
But the Atheneum seemed empty, almost abandoned. Arialla kept at it, squaring her shoulders and searching the building ... and finally locating a human form curled in an alcove. "Hello? Are you all right?"
The sound of a voice in the room made Sam stiffen at first, his mind irrationally sure that someone had come to capture him for his crime; quickly he forced himself to be calm though, closing his eyes and spreading his fingers out over the cool stones of the floor before he opened them and spoke. "Hello, Arialla." Recognising her he stood, looking out towards her with a weak smile.
Would she still want to talk to him if she knew, he wondered.
"Is there something I can help you with?" He asked, walking past the shelves and towards where she stood, fingers lightly tracing over the backs of book spines as he passed them. It had been a long time since he'd been the substitute librarian for the Atheneum but he still knew exactly where each book resided, where any information could be found.
"Oh, Samuel!" Arialla smiled back at Samuel, but he seemed a little under the weather -- definitely tired, and his smile wasn't quite right. So her own faded, even as she answered: "I came to ask about the Loreseekers -- I'm not sure what happened to them after Jigano left, with ... everything you've had going on. But are you sure you're all right?"
She didn't want to outright tell him he looked bad, but ... he looked bad. Not, maybe, as bad as she would have expected, given how he had told her he had only a few months to live ... Arialla couldn't help frowning as she analyzed his appearance, though she was trying not to stare. He looked a bit healthier than the last time she'd seen him, honestly, but there was something in his eyes ...
Honestly, with everything that had happened, the Loreseekers and Jigano felt so far as well they may as well have never happened. Sam stared at Arialla for a moment as if confused, trying to remember what had happened with the guild. Not yet realising she still thought he had a limited time left to live (it was hard to keep track of his various troubles himself, never mind knowing who else knew), he pushed his hair back and tried to think of what to say.
"Well, um...The Loreseekers...I tried to take it to Torchline with me, but I don't think they're quite as interested in books there." He laughed, though not cruelly: he was actually quite sure that the issue was more to do with his poor advertising. "Without Jigano, I don't think it'd be the same anyway. I'm not...half the leader he was." Not filled with sage advice, not powerful with magic, not filled with the same drive for exploration and righteousness.
As for himself.. "I'm fine. As good as I can be. I only just recovered from the illness thats been...around." He was sure she knew about it.
Arialla nodded, though she suspected that Samuel's failure to bring the Loreseekers to Torchline had more to do with what had been going on in his life than the residents' disinterest in books. She wouldn't say so, of course; after all, it wasn't like she blamed him. Rejecting your goddess and knowing you were dying as a result naturally took priority.
"It wouldn't be the same, but then things never are," she said, trying for a tone of quiet encouragement. Samuel might not lead the Loreseekers the way Jigano had, but Arialla believed he could do it ... if he wanted to. "Leadership doesn't come naturally to everyone, but sometimes that just means you have to practice. Though I'll admit, I don't know if I'd be joining even if the guild ... was in a better place. Safrin wasn't fond of the idea."
Arialla's eyes widened; she hadn't realized Samuel had been sick. She didn't know much about the illness, either, but she could hardly have avoided hearing some things about it. "I'm glad you're feeling better."
Did that mean his Voice-withdrawal/curse was getting better too? Arialla decided not to pry.
"Not a lot of people around here respect me." Sam said softly, a smile on his face without any joy behind it, more of a courtesy for Arialla than anything else. He was rather sure that if he openly advertised the guild with his name attached to it, he would have very few members, and those that were tempted would be swiftly told of his reputation (as either a wet blanket who couldn't tie his own shoelaces or a manipulative danger) and taken away.
Hearing that Safrin didn't approve was a surprise, though; as far as Sam knew, Jigano had been on decent terms with the Goddess. "She wasn't? Why not?"
He nodded, not asking if Arialla had been sick: he was sure he'd be able to tell if she had. He himself knew he looked tired even despite being Ascended, and those that weren't were visibly beaten down by the illness. "Thank you. I am too. The Voice's cure came at just the right time." Of course, a little earlier and he could have avoided being a murderer...but that secret was going to be shared with the fewest people possible.
Arialla frowned. To flatly deny Samuel's statement probably wouldn't help -- she didn't exactly have authoritative knowledge of how people felt about him. There might well be history that she didn't understand, history from before she had come to Caido. But she couldn't exactly let something like that go unchallenged, either. "What makes you say that?"
She cast her mind back to her conversation with Safrin, trying to remember how exactly the goddess had expressed her disapproval. "She called the Loreseekers foolish, and blind, and said that she wouldn't want me to share any information she gave me ... Oh, I believe she was displeased that Jigano had refused an offer of knowledge."
The Voice's cure ... Yes, Arialla had heard about that too. As much as she disliked -- and mistrusted -- the Voice, she could appreciate the goddess' actions ... If she truly had provided a cure, and not some insidious plot to further her own agenda. Arialla wouldn't express any such suspicions to Samuel, though. Instead she said, "Have you returned to the Voice, then? Your stutter is gone."
"Oh, um..." Well, now he'd really stepped in it. Sam sighed, hugged his arms and went to walk towards a chair, seeing as this was going to be a lengthy conversation. First he pulled one out for Arialla, then one for himself, sitting in the corner. It felt safer, surrounded by books on each side, walled in and away from the world. "I was always quiet and shy as a child, so I had a reputation for being weird...then, I suppose as an adult I've proven that, sometimes." He couldn't entirely blame people for their perceptions of him: he had made mistakes. "..And I recently tried to start a life somewhere else."
He knew nothing of this meeting with Safrin, but it made sense; Sam knew the Goddess was easily offended, and Jigano turning down an offer of hers would certainly do it. "Well, I see. You visited Safrin yourself, then? What was that like?" When they'd first met, she'd been quite enamoured with her Gods of Old, as far as he remembered; had she decided to respect the Caido deities instead?
When she asked about his voice he blinked a couple times, then remembered the last time they had met. "Oh. I...forgot I haven't seen you since...yes, I went back to her. I didn't want to die, just yet. I hope that doesn't make you think I'm weak."
Oh. Arialla hadn't expected him to actually have an answer for that, and now she didn't know what to say to refute it. She probably shouldn't have asked; he couldn't enjoy talking about how no one liked him. Instead she went for sympathy, offering, "I know it hurts to grow up ill-liked. It's not your fault. As for moving away -- a fresh start can help, sometimes. I'm sorry it didn't work out for you."
Ah, Safrin. Arialla nodded, smiling at the memory. "She ... wasn't what I expected. Warmer, less distant than our gods at home -- and less fickle. I think I made a bit of a fool of myself, asking ..." Well, she'd asked for revenge against the Voice, but maybe she shouldn't mention that to Samuel. "I don't think I really knew what I was asking, besides what she couldn't give me -- a way home. But she was kind, and offered me guidance. Actually, I was supposed to return to her after LongNight, but I've been a little nervous ... I'll do it soon, though. I found a good offering."
When he spoke again, Arialla shook her head. She couldn't condemn Samuel's decision, not after seeing the state he'd been in -- and even if she did disapprove a little, she wasn't about to tell him that. If anything, she'd direct her displeasure at the Voice; as far as Arialla was concerned, the goddess basically held Samuel hostage at this point. Though she couldn't deny that her homeland's gods also reacted badly when a follower wished to leave them. "I don't think it makes you weak, doing what you have to in order to survive. I know leaving must have been a hard decision, and I'd imagine returning is difficult as well. If there's anything I can do to help ..."
Sam was quite used to talking about his awkward predicament of being disliked and was not offended by the question; he was in fact quite fascinated to learn that Arialla, who seemed to be in every way a perfectly normal person willing to please the right Gods, could have been disliked too. "You...do?" He asked, inviting her to share more.
"If you promised her you'd return, you'd better do so." He urged, a little more passion in his voice than usual, some hardness in his eyes. "Safrin is known for easily taking offence and when she's mad...she can curse people terribly." Still, at least Arialla's first meeting with the Goddess had been productive, and it seemed like she'd learnt the hardest lesson an Outlander could: that she wouldn't be going home.
It was a relief to see she didn't blame him for his return, the way some did. Sam already spent nights berating himself for the choice, for being weak - he didn't need to hear it from anyone else. "I'm afraid there isn't, but it's quite alright. I have...forever, as long as no one interrupts it, to work it all out." He sighed; that was the one benefit of Ascension that shone bright over all else: the chance to recreate himself as many times as he wanted, the years left to him stretching out into eternity.
"Yes, I ... There were people at home who thought me quite strange, as well." Because she had kept insisting that she was a girl, when others looked at her body and told her differently ... But she wasn't really willing to discuss that with Samuel. She'd never really had to tell someone before; back home, everyone had grown up with her, and they all knew. Most of them had opinions about it, too, but they'd quieted down after Apollo had publicly shown his approval by blessing her. Now people looked at her and thought girl, and those who hadn't known her before Apollo's blessing never realized they might have once thought differently. Including everyone she'd met in Caido. She didn't want to reveal her previous state to any of them, and run the risk that they might have "opinions" about it as well. Instead she added, "Shockingly, most of them changed their minds when Apollo blessed me. Suddenly everyone wanted to remind me how we'd been such close friends all along."
Nodding, Arialla didn't miss the intensity in Samuel's voice or eyes. She knew better than to take one's promise to a god lightly. "I will. I think I've waited out of fear that she would be angry with me for taking so long, but ... that'll just get worse the longer I stall, of course."
Samuel's words didn't exactly comfort Arialla -- rather the opposite, in fact. They reminded her that he was bound to the Voice forever, whether he liked it or not. Not only would he die if he left, but even if he did, the Voice still owned his immortal soul. Should she mention that? Or would that be too upsetting? Taking a deep breath, she decided to go for it: "Safrin told me that the Voice ... keeps the souls of the Ascended. So you ... really do have forever ..."
"Oh. You seem very nice and normal to me." Sam gave her a soft smile, not knowing her thoughts; if he had he would have been thrilled, immediately shared with her their twin histories, his own experiences with fitting into a new skin more befitting of his mind. "Who...was Apollo? Is that one of your Gods?" He found he liked the name; it was nice to say, and thinking of Gods not from Caido was always interesting. It made it seem like the deities here did not hold all the power in the world, which Sam found comforting.
She seemed to take his warning about Safrin seriously so he let it go for the moment, hoping he wouldn't see her cursed the next time they met. Clasping his hands together and fiddling with his fingers, he leaned against a bookshelf as the Voice came up again, wishing he had an answer that wouldn't confirm her words. "Yes, she does. Honestly though....I wouldn't want to go to the Old God's afterlife, Mort's realm. The Old Gods have only ever harmed and insulted me."
The Voice's afterlife, the mystery of it, did scare him, but he could not foresee any time in Mort's realm going well. "I'm sure it's lovely for those that have served, though." Sam added, wanting to make sure Aurelia was not afraid of where she would likely find herself one day.
"Thank you," Arialla said, smiling. There was a little amusement in her voice as she added, "I think you're quite nice and normal as well."
Normal was maybe stretching it, but then, it was Caido -- who could say what was really "normal" here?
"Apollo is -- was -- our god of healing, music, and the sun," she continued. Once, she would have loved expounding on Apollo's virtues; now it made her a bit sad to talk about him, honestly, knowing that her prayers would never reach him again. Not that she had expected him to actually speak to her again: encounters with gods were far rarer at home than here in Caido. But she had felt warmth and comfort just from knowing he was out there, watching over her, hearing her prayers. She decided to confide some of this in Samuel: "We didn't speak to the gods very often at home -- or, rather, they didn't speak to us very often. It wasn't like here, where you can go to a shrine and actually expect a god to answer you. For a god to personally bless me wasn't just a once in a lifetime even for me; it was the first time something like that had happened to my entire village."
Arialla gave Samuel a sympathetic grimace, though she wasn't sure what to say to his grievance against the gods. Harm she could understand, but she didn't really understand how you could take a god's words or actions as a personal insult -- a curse, perhaps, but an insult? That implied pride before the gods, and her homeland had an entire repertoire of myths and songs and plays about what a bad idea that was.
But she could well imagine that the Old Gods would not be pleased with Samuel for choosing the Voice over them, and might even take their displeasure out on his immortal soul. (The idea of fearing the afterlife herself did not occur to her, so she didn't even realize he was trying to comfort her.) Hm, she might have to keep that in mind as she spoke to Safrin about the souls of the Ascended -- she didn't want to try to free them from the Voice only to sentence them to eternal torment in Mort's realm.
"I don't know much about Mort," she confessed. "I have heard that Mort's herald, Ludo, can be ... difficult. But ... what are your experiences with the Old Gods, if you don't mind me asking? How have they harmed and insulted you?"
She wasn't sure whether the question would make Samuel feel worse by revisiting past hurts or maybe give him a chance to vent, but she was curious. And since she didn't really have any comforting words about the afterlife, they might as well move on to another subject.
