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!
At Loren’s admiration, the beast tilted his head, the smirk remaining chiseled within his features, a light-hearted gesture out of conversations embedded in tension and mistakes. “Invisibility cloak.” He trusted the Firebrand would assert and surmise the meaning behind the name – Deimos’ figure, while powerful, potent, and monolithic, tended to disregard stealth. Shifts were helpful in those instances, but if he deigned to utilize incantations at the same time, he wanted to be able to be under cover – some formation he would’ve relished and savored along Helovia. Different times, different lands, different worlds, all coming together in his calculations. On those semblances, the Sword folded the cloth, the boulder reappearing beneath tresses and fabric.
“Hm. Could have been a good council meeting.” The snicker didn’t fade, just another arch of his brow in Loren’s direction as he placed the mantle back within his satchel, tucked away safely for another day. There might have been clearer, cooler heads in the sanction too, capable of wielding and dealing out explanations for their sides without threats, ultimatums, and other collisions. Instead, the healer had opted for a series of consequences, mountains from molehills, expanding, growing, unfurling above his head until they’d reached a peak.
The Warden’s demands could’ve been far worse – given the platitude of errors Loren had displayed. Such actions committed might’ve been costly, deadly, by the Firebrand’s efforts to dispel and hide; a Reaper wouldn’t have kept him in the council, and wouldn’t have instilled any further trust. Loren had been established and furnished in a harsh life lesson (the beast couldn’t ignore his own flaws and defects in those regards, failures added up, piled upon shoulders, until he carried them for eternities); but at least he fought to see another day. “Sounds fair.” Whether or not it would culminate would remain to be seen. “What will you do on your break?”
"Coolllll," Loren breathed out, grinning at Deimos. Stepping forward, the healer inspected the cloak. Slipping a hand into a pocket, he pulled out his glasses and slid them on his nose. The boulder appeared (presumably) and he nodded, putting the glasses away again and returning the cloak to its invisible state. "Very useful."
Chuckling at the general's comment about the council meeting, the Firebrand nodded. "Alright, so sometimes more heads aren't better. But I still should've been more forthcoming." Sighing, he rolled his shoulders, trying to get rid of the tension discussing this topic brought up.
Pressing his lips together at the Sword's assessment, Loren ran a hand through his hair. "Rest, meditate, and catch up with friends." Not necessarily in that order, but it was the plan. Of course, his plans never worked out but he did his best not to think about that.
A shared appreciation for the cloak earned another smile; though Deimos would withhold his judgments until he could utilize the item adequately. There were a wealth of ideas stored in his calculating mind, eyes slinking over the horizon, towards caves, towards those left behind, even if their souls were long gone, before reeling back, catching Loren’s words. “Hopefully. We shall see.”
Even if the information would’ve been granted in some other faction, and perhaps a mess of other proportions and masses, at least Loren had learned something out of his follies. A great many never had, and repeated the same mistakes over and over, expecting difference that would never be apparent. Perhaps it would remain to be seen if the lesson orchestrated beyond these moments and clarities of thought; or if the Firebrand would need reminders again.
Grabbing hold of the rest of his belongings, and ensuring the lantern was in his grasp, the beast made efforts to depart. “I will not keep you then.” Zuriel took the hint, rising from her position, offering Astra a swift bump of her muzzle. Then Deimos waved, intent on returning to the town, sagacity heightened over the bizarre stretch of events, still entirely grateful he hadn’t been caught in that particular branch of chaos.
