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!
Part of Noah's position was to be a liaison between the rest of the council and the citizens of Halo. Therefor, part of this required him to be available to the citizens. While he did not love this part of his job, he was a man of duty. So now, here he was, in the Council Hall holding what could be called office hours.
His hours in the hall were mostly lonely. He heard the thoughts and concerns of a few citizens that came in, but he was able to offer them instant resolutions to their problems without drawing in the rest of the council. He was thankful for that, because he had not seen the others in some time.
As the hours drew lonelier and lonelier, Noah turned his attentions to the season. He planned his hunts and his scouting, timed what needed to happen. All of this work, however, was a distraction to what he was truly feeling. The season hung heavy on his shoulders. Sighing, the hunter stood from the long table and moved over to his pack he had brought in with him. Inside there were bundles of supplies from his home. He kept them stocked, just as his mother did before him, with lantern supplies. She always had her boys make lanterns for the festival of lights, even if it was the only time of the year they connected with the gods -- she was, after all, abandoned by them.
Moving his supplies back to his table, he laid them out before him: fine paper he traded for in Torchline, sticks he gathered about a year ago from the Hollowed Grounds, and leaves of various plants from Torchline that Delphine had gathered for him.
Loren spent most of his time in the infirmary rather than his office in the Council Hall, for hopefully obvious reasons. However, he still had reports to file now and then. So he entered into the building, shrugging off his cloak, stomping the snow of his boots, and drying his clothes with a flick of his wrist and a touch of his magic. Astra trotted in behind him, shaking out her fur.
That done, he draped his cloak over his arm and ducked into the main hall. He was just planning to use it as a shortcut, but he stopped short when he saw Noah there. The healer cleared his throat as his companion trotted up to the hunter. "Noah." Glancing at the table, the Firebrand inclined his head. "I didn't mean to interrupt you."
The hunter was keen to listen for any sounds of entrance. After all, he really was there waiting for people. He lifted his icy eyes, expecting it to be a citizen looking for him. He wasn't surprised to see Loren, as a member of the council, entering the council building. He offered him a small smile and shrugged his shoulders some, his head gently shaking. "You didn't interupt anything. You're welcome to join me, if you'd like. I've been holding open hours, and since no one has stopped in for a while I was just starting a lantern for the festival--" He gestured at the table with one hand, and sat down in his chair, but stopped his sentence short for a moment. He hesitated only because of who he was making his lantern for. "--in memory of Weaver." He finally decided to say. As Astra trotted towards him Noah reached out to scratch the luxere behind an ear. He knew the Firebrand's grief must still give him pain -- after all, he had cared for the once-Warden. Noah, too, felt the wound throb even at the mention of her name.
Eyes tightening as Noah revealed what he was doing, Loren swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. Looking down and away, he scrubbed at his eyes. Astra bleated as the hunter's fingers scratched her, but she twisted so she could watch the healer.
He nodded, once, and ran a hand through his hair. "I'd like that, yes. But...she's not the only one I have to make a lantern for." Hesitating, he rubbed a palm against his thigh. "I'll be right back." The luxere made to follow him, but he shook his head and gestured for her to stay with the other man.
Ducking out of the main area, the Firebrand headed to his office. Retrieving extra paper, some paint, and some metal, he rejoined Noah and Astra. The healer settled down at the opposite end of the table, dumping his supplies and then simply staring at them.
Noah knew how mentioning Weaver before had made Loren shut down their attuned bond. It was the reason he hesitated explaining who his lantern was for -- but there was no hiding from grief. It was, in Noah's opinion, the whole point of this season and this yearly festival. This year, despite his belief, was the first time he had made a lantern since the year his parents passed away, however. It would be the first year he would attend the festival. Usually he spent no extra time with what he thought was fruitless -- and to him, before now, the festival was fruitless.
He knew nothing they were doing would bring anyone back.
But he didn't need that, anymore.
Noah moved his materials around as Loren returned, trying to picture in his mind's eye what he wanted. "This is the first lantern I have crafted in nearly a decade."
11-17-2020, 02:17 AM (This post was last modified: 11-17-2020, 02:18 AM by Loren.)
Loren kept his Attuned bond closed these days out of habit and respect for others, actually, not wanting to dump his baggage on them. Still, as he stared at the supplies arrayed before him, it was hard to stop the grief from trickling out of his mind entirely. Shaking his head, he grabbed a length of wire and began bending it into shape.
As he did, he summoned three monkeys. They clambered up him to get to the table. One of them grabbed wire just like him, while the other two grabbed paper and paint and began painting and folding under his command. Not meeting Noah's gaze, the healer cleared his throat. "Who did you make it for then?"
His hands stilled. "You know, I've made lanterns every year since I've been to Caido." Letting out a huff of laughter with zero mirth in it, he resumed working.
The hunter fumbled at his supplies. His hands were not used to such work, but his fingers were used to the delicate work of fletching arrows. This saved him from the embarrassment of ruining his materials, but he still had to work hard to decide how to craft his lantern. In his mind's eye, he brought up images of the last one he made together with his younger brother. It was a sorry image of a lantern, but it was made from the hands of two orphan boys who only wanted to honor their parents. He was sure Ludo could feel that.
Leaning down from the table, Noah reached for a small sewing kit that was in his pack as well as a bundle of thin leather ties. He started working on placing the leaves in an order that he found pleasing, and threaded a needle with thin thread that could not be used on clothes or leather. It was leftover from what his mother had. "My parents." He said, eyes focused down on his work rather than the Firebrand and his monkeys. "Caido is a place where death is held in tandem with life...and I am not sure it will change."
Nodding at Noah's answer, Loren cleared his throat. "May they burn brightly." Still not meeting the hunter's eyes, the healer toyed with a stray bit of paper even as the monkeys he'd summoned got to work. One took wires and bent and twisted them into shape while the other two painted a sheet of paper brown and grey respectively.
"Not just Caido," he murmured in response to the other man's statement. With that, the Firebrand shook his head and grabbed some wire for himself. He began twisting it into a spiraling pattern, starting with a circular base and rising up in a cylinder. Keeping his gaze trained on his work, he tried to clear his mind and just let his hands move.
May they burn brightly. The Firebrand extended towards him, honor and condolence, and the hunter nodded. It was all he could do. His parents were long gone, and the sting of their absence in his life did not hurt him as it used to. It was still there, but the grief was smaller. It was Weaver's face that had him swallowing down the lump in his throat while he knit leaves and paper together. She was his freshest wound, his youngest hurt. But, he was thankful that he did not have to make this lantern for Delphine. He knew he would need to tell Loren that she had come back, that the dragon had not killed her, but as he opened his mouth to do so Weaver's face stopped him.
She hadn't come home, and the dragon had killed her.
His joy was Loren's heartbreak, and now was not the time to bring it down upon him.
"Where did you come from, before Caido?" He asked, setting his leaves aside and going for the sticks to tie together.
Sitting in silence that was somewhere between companionable and awkward, Loren focused on the lanterns. His monkeys worked beside and with him. The one twisting the metal finished, and it took several smaller pieces of wire. It looped them around the other, longer strands, creating small loops along their length by tying the ends off. The other two finished with their painting and began to fold the papers into specific shapes.
For Loren's part, he finished his spiral with another circle on top. The main structure complete, he added strands running up and down the length of the cylinder. "Northaven, along with many others." Pausing, he glanced up from his work to look at Noah. "You've been in Halo your whole life, right?"
Noah nodded as the realization rolled over him. It was interesting to the hunter that a large number of people had all come from the same land to Caido, but other outlanders seemed far and spread out and did not come in mass waves. Obviously, he didn't know about those all from Helovia, like Deimos. "Do you miss it?" He asked, hands working to tie together the sticks that would be the frame of his lantern. Hopefully, they were light enough that it would lift into the air once lit.
He nodded, again. "I've always lived on the ice." He looked up towards Loren and smiled broadly. It wrinkled the corner of his eyes. "As treacherous as it is, and full of tragedy, I could choose it over and over and over." In Noah's experience, there was something magical about the people that lived here -- chosen, or by birth. They were hardy and strong, determined and fierce, unyielding in their will to survive.
Shaking his head at Noah's question, Loren pressed his lips together. "No." As he added strips of wire to make a dome over the cylinder, the monkeys took the paper and wire construction they were making and started putting it together. Adding glue to the back of the paper, they carefully rolled it along the wires, sticking it to them. In the end, they made something in the shape of a scythe, with a slot at the tip for a candle.
Inspecting his creature's creation, the healer nodded at the hunter's words. "It's your home." Not looking at the other man, the Firebrand had the monkeys set the lantern down as he affixed the candle to the end of it. They moved on to other lanterns, taking wire and paper and paint as needed.
Noah finished fastening the structure of the lantern together and worked on making a placeholder for a candle. When that was complete, he took the leaves and paper and attached them around the skeleton of leather and sticks. As his lantern came to near completion, he admired his work. He was no artist, that was for sure, but he was certain of one thing: Weaver would love it, and she would show that by razzing him about how ugly it was relentlessly. He almost smiled, thinking about it.
He lifted his eyes again and nodded towards Loren. "And your's." He stated, kindly but firmly. He met the Firebrand's gaze earnestly, making it certain for the healer that the hunter meant it. Loren had worked hard to defend this land, to come up with ways to protect these people, and Noah appreciated him for that. While he still didn't know the man well, he respected him, and he wanted him to know that.
Giving Weaver's lantern one last look, Loren had his monkeys set it aside to dry. They went back to the other lanterns, leaving him to focus on the one in his hands. Taking a yellowish piece of paper, he applied glue to the backside and began rolling it around the outside of the wire structure. He affixed another piece of paper of the same color to the bottom.
Glancing up at Noah's word, the healer smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks." Lowering his gaze, he bit his lower lip. "If I'm being honest, it doesn't feel like that most days. It's my fault, though." Shrugging, he slid a piece of black paper over even as a paint can and a brush floated over under his telekinesis.
