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!
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
Mildly restless, feeling the need to move, she turned back towards fronds and leaves, ferns that grew wildly towards a rampant sun not present; dipping and crouching to grab Fangorn in her arms, before wandering further into the midst. The drive and need to explore prevailed over her other feral nuances, and if this was Peter was still going to try anything, she had other methods of sieging and parrying. At his inquiry towards his husband, the youth tilted her head vaguely, a host of other memories flickering and filtering back into place. It felt like lifetimes ago; when there seemed to be less disaster and more time for those moments of repose. Or maybe she was just rhapsodizing, and the truth was that there had never been too many sanctums. “I taught him how to use a bow.” At least, rudimentary efforts. There hadn’t been a time or place for follow-up lessons, and he’d seemed more apt to shoot things with those other weapons at his disposal. “Made him one too.” She assumed, based on prior thoughts, he’d never used it.
The honeybee turned her head back over her shoulder at his next question though; brows furrowing slightly, the confusion evident on her face. “Extended family. The daughter of your brother or sister.” Perhaps he’d never had the experience or known reaches of those bonds. She twisted back around, and opted to let that go – it wasn’t worth digging into for either of them.
Instead, she exuded her senses over the area, and Fangorn pulsed in her hands – as if something was looming, or hiding, nearby.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
”Did you?” Pet wracks his mind, tries to remember if this is a fact he knows, but things from before are still hazy, and all that comes to mind is a pair of guns, no memory of bows, neither physically or mentioned. ”Was he... was he any good?” Curious despite himself, despite the wall of aloofness he tried to maintain. Adam was his Achilles heel.
”Oh.” He hadn’t known there was a word for that, he thinks privately, before repeating it out loud. ”I didn’t know there was a, uh, a word for that.” He hadn’t known Sunjata’s sister had had a child either, at least... he didn’t think he had. It’s something that sounds easier to believe the longer he thinks absout it though. ”Is it... nice?” He doesn’t know how else to voice the question he wants, about family, about being close.
Something pricks at his ear, more deliberate than the random noise of the jungle, prompting a deeper stillness in his body as Peter cocks his head, tries to get a better listen.
I’m sorry lover, I’m sorry I bring you down Well these days I try, and these days I tend to lie
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
At the question, the youth shrugged her shoulders, a half-grin managing to situate itself on her face. “He was okay. Got better and better with practice.” As most did, if they picked up any knack or ability for it, if they listened, if they strived and tried. “I think he preferred his guns though.” Uncertain of where those were, lost in between realms, worlds, or death, the honeybee didn’t dig or pry any further, turning back in her swift, sure movements, even if she had no idea where they were.
Was it nice to have family? The inquiry struck her as odd; and she wondered what that signified for the man. If he simply didn’t have any. If he was amongst the many who’d lost them along the way, or never had the notions in his grasp to begin with. A sad, morose thought; Melita at least had the experience, the memories, of her mother and sister, happy and united for a time, underneath a sunshine, whimsical roof, dancing their way through meadows and sands. “Yes, it is.” When the rest of her kin weren’t ridiculous – which was a frequent amount of the time.
But then the sound came again, and Fangorn hesitated, stilling altogether in her arms. Out of habit, the girl readied her blade once more, growing rigid, quiet, hushed. A melody flitted in and out, as if orchestrated by its own devices and musings – and a low whisper, conjured by herself, followed through. “Do you hear that?”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
More than anything else, the comment about Adam’s guns sets his mind at ease, that single scrap of shared memory letting everything else settle into place. ”Maybe... maybe he’ll get better again. Now that those are uh... gone.” If he were being honest, he’d say he was relieved by that face, but he’s bad enough at masking his emotions that it’s obvious anyway.
Somehow, he knows the question is strange. Knows it’s not quite what he wants to ask, though he doesn’t know what he does want to voice, so that’s a moot point. Instead, he tries to take the answer for what it is, a simple thing that he can use to patch the parts of him that are lacking, in that particular department.
At least he doesn’t have to wallow in it, doesn’t have to struggle. His whole body tensed, a whisper of a sound coming from him as an arm slides open to reveal one of his hidden blades again, his gaze thrown all about the trees around them. ”Yes.” He breathes back, afraid to be too loud, to draw attention to them. ”What do you think it is?”
I’m sorry lover, I’m sorry I bring you down Well these days I try, and these days I tend to lie
Eating fire is your ambition to swallow the flame down
She was distracted partially from the topic now, gesturing down towards bushes, then over treelines and canopies, through the thick landscape of greenery and shadow alike. Melita should’ve known what Peter meant by the guns gone; frozen down in those ramparts, where they’d all been struck down by a dragon – eyes flickering over soil and brush, stepping lightly towards the sounds. “Oh? Well, you can send him my way if he’s interested again.”
But then it was only the crackle of song, matching pitch for pitch and harmony for harmony. She had difficulty in deciphering just where it was coming from, and Peter didn’t seem to know either – though she didn’t miss the sound of that damned blade once more. Her own tucked further into her palm, ready, willing, and able to strike.
And then Fangorn grumbled, and there was something bounding and leaping along a broad leaf. “Maybe a lizard?” Though she was sure she’d seen the sheen and shine of feathers – watched as its shadow crawled across the surface, before launching towards Peter.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein to be the sun
