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!
Even with the drama and danger she endured, it is the quietest LongNight Amalia has ever experienced, and the girl comes out of it feeling refreshed and alive. Keen and itching for adventure and purpose, she spends the last hours of darkness baking up a storm, making a collection of decadent treats delicately decorated with patterns of stars and galaxies, starwhales and spiraling symbols of her love. A chocolate cake with orange zest, some lavender and honey scones, small mince pies each the size of a meal, a bottle of aromatic tea - these are some of the things the girl now lays out on a blanket before the shrine, an offering for a deity she has spent too long outside the light of.
She sits herself cross-legged before her feast, not knowing if her goddess will appear but hoping to be so blessed. Though she may belong to Vi, part of her heart will ever be Safrin's; and it is that starlit deity that the not-Shield now seeks, face upcast to the rising dawn.
The dawn's light solidifies into a golden down, wrapped snugly around the figure of the goddess. She looks no more tired than she normally does after LongNight, sent away and banned by the ever-present darkness that covers the land, though perhaps there is slightly more restraint in her galactic gaze now.
Vi's scoldings do not come without a price, after all.
'Smells delicious.' Safrin says, her lips perfectly painted and contoured into a smile as she gazes down at the picnic. 'I hope you didn't go through all of this trouble just for me?' Though Safrin certainly looks and sounds sincere, there's absolutely no doubt that she's well delighted and satisfied by Amalia's offerings.
She cannot know the conflict that lurks behind Safrin's starlit eyes, nor the scolding she has endured at the side of Vi. To Amalia the goddess is flawless as ever, beauty of the heavens come together to create something she has been privileged enough to touch. Her smile is radiant as the goddess appears, a laugh bubbling up at the deflection, color bright upon her cheeks. "It's an honor to be able to do things for you," the Angel says ardently, pious sincerity in her alto voice. "Will you join me?"
She sets about pouring tea, setting a plate of delicacies for Safrin as Jyoti circles adoringly, her song a serenade to all who linger in the Celestine. And indeed, their little soiree is gaining attention: a pair of Sear Cats, rehabilitating after being caught in a storm, wind their way over to the goddess and the girl. Amalia extends a hand to press behind the first one's ears, smiling as she pets he creature, a breath of healing extended as well. Her eyes are bright when she looks back at Safrin, though some of the carefree delight has faded. "Safrin... I was hoping you might help me with something. A way to stop the Ascended from using their abilities, at least for a short time."
"How could I resist?" Safrin wonders as she lowers herself to Amalia's side, her dress unfurling around her like a sigh. Her eyes fall upon the Sear cats and she too stretches out a hand for them. Impetuous and stunning creatures that they were, it's no surprise that they are one of Safrin's favourites when it comes to creatures of Rae.
Unsurprised that this picnic comes with ulterior motives, Safrin simply raises a brow as she licks the icing off of a lemon cake. "It's possible, I'm sure." The goddess acknowledges. "But why have you not asked Vi?" For all their time together and the goddess's affections for the girl, she was properly under the domain of the God of Life, now. 'Your magic comes to you from him. Now, the best I can offer you is some sort of item.."
Much like the Archangel herself, the sear cats bask in the Goddess' attentions, their fierce purrs buzzing through the Celestine. The second of the pair approaches Amalia, licking his lips and eyeing the mincemeat pie. He holds a paw aloft, clearly wounded, the cause of his stay. With an indulgent smile the girl offers a small section of grouse filling and a soft, melodious hum, feeding and healing in one go, her fingers folding tenderly into the scruff of the cat's neck as he begins to eat.
Looking back up at Safrin, Amalia tilts her head, a frown growing between her brows. "So does yours," she points out, genuinely curious, though a slight flush flashes over her cheeks. "I don't... I feel like I still have too much to be worthy of, before I ask him for more," the Archangel explains, biting at the inside of her lip. "Which isn't to say- you've given me so much, too." Helplessly she shrugs, her face bright as leopard fur blooms across her shoulders, the beginnings of horns sprouting from her crown. The shifts, each a gift from the starlit goddess. "So much of what I am is you, Safrin. I would never- could never have become what I am, had you not believed in me."
The adoration on her face is brightened by her smile. Brazenly Amalia reaches forward, as though to take her goddess' hand. "You don't have to give me any more than you have. I'm... I'm grateful for just this. To spend time with you. To be able to give back even a tiny amount of all you've given me."
Safrin's smile is sweet, but there is something hard hidden behind it as Amalia mentions the source of both their magics. The once-shield continues to dig herself deeper, implying that while she hasn't yet earned Vi's time, that Safrin's is apparently free to take advantage of. Quickly, she catches herself, and the goddess preens slightly at the offered compliment.
"And now you are so much more." She says with a sigh that's as sad as it is adoring. Letting her hand be taken, Safrin's thumb softly caresses over Amalia's skin, turning her veins incandescent with starlight. "You needn't given anything back, sweet one. But I would ... caution you. Vi's expectations of you are high..it has been centuries since the last demigod raised up by one of the gods has existed."
Gently Safrin caresses the girl, leaving Amalia literally and figuratively aglow, still somewhat awed that any of this could be happening to her. But beneath the warmth of the goddess's affection, something cold lingers, too. The smile fades with Safrin's warning, leaving wide eyes and vulnerable anxiety in its place.
"What do you mean? Have- am I disappointing him?" Helplessly she searches for more in the Goddess' face, as though the understanding she desperately seeks might be revealed in the starlit eyes. "Please, Safrin-- this is why I need your help. I want to be good enough - to be ready." Locks of lilac curl in her hair as Amalia sits back, gazing up at the goddess who has given her so much. "What... happened to them? The... the ones before us? The other demigods?"
'You cavort with the ascended.' Safrin says as gently as possible, letting the weight of her words reverberate into the stillness. 'Your tasks given to you seasons and seasons ago are not complete..' Softly, the goddess shakes her head. 'Your prayers to Vi all of your life have finally been answered, and yet...you still live your life as if your priorities are solely your own.'
Reaching for one of Amalia's baked goods as if she hadn't just said that the Archangel was utterly failing in her duties, the goddess takes a bite of one with lemon frosting, humming happily into the tang of it. "They died." Of natural causes? Of course not. "All demigods exist with a purpose, just as we heralds do. Once that purpose is served, or should you prove yourselves not the best tool for the job..." Immortality was one thing, but the gods could manufacture situations in which the conditions for death were met.
"..it's why I'm warning you now. Before it's too late."
Nothing changes, and yet all the warmth is sucked out of the Flowerbirth day, leaving Amalia wide-eyed and chilled by Safrin's casual condemnation. The gravity of it takes the wind from her lungs as surely as any physical blow; speechless, aching, the Archangel can only watch as her goddess samples baked goods and continues to exist with a radiance that, for the first time since the Blight, Amalia feels deprived of, cast into old, long shadows.
It hurts. It hurts. Because Safrin is right: this is what she wanted, what she prayed for, and still it isn't enough. She isn't enough-- and the old choking anxieties, the panic that dwells so close to the surface of her breast scrambles inside her throat, threatening to drag her back into darkness she thought she left behind. Her fingers clench into the ruff of a Sear cat who's crawled into her lap; she falters, becomes less, and then--
"So help me, Safrin." The girl who sits before Safrin is not a shadow, will not be a shadow. Back straight and dark eyes burning with purpose and ardor, she gazes at the goddess almost defiantly, red and gold flowers blooming in her hair. "Please. Help me be what He wants - what He needs. Help me be stronger." Her heart is thundering in her chest, a heavy, hurried rhythm, and scales frame her angular face as fire dances down her spine.
"I will prove myself to you, Safrin. Just give me a chance."
Safrin turns, surprised by this flash of faith and resilience. Pride radiates from her in waves as she reaches out a hand to softly stroke Amalia's cheek. "There is nothing I can give you that you do not already have." She says softly, shifting her legs that she might properly face the Angel.
"You know what you must do, and you know it will be hard. Such is the path of those who walk in Vi's light." Her smile grows, and then falters for a moment as she shakes her head. "Only you and I know what it is to be bound up in his love. It is rigid and unforgiving, but it is the most noble path that one can walk. The others?" Remi, Delphia, Mildred...even Seren and Ronin...they would never be held beneath Vi's scrutiny, and though Safrin's ego was unhappy to compare she and Amalia, that didn't make it any less the case.
Resilient, yes, because what else is she to be? Were the girl not resilient she would have broken only once; instead she breaks a hundred times, growing back stronger for her faults. Her dark eyes are pools of faith and fervor as she listens to Safrin, soaking it all in. Only you and I--, as though she could be even remotely compared to her goddess.
And yet.
She nods once, solemn, understanding at last the gravity of what is being said. And though it will take a new trauma for the instructions to truly set in, today Safrin has through her honestly subtly changed Amalia's course. "I will," the Angel promises, her chin upturned, her deep voice strong. "Thank you, Safrin. Again. For everything."
And then the cold breaks and the sun shines again. Amalia falls back onto her haunches, hair blooming with primrose as she sets about serving Safrin another cup of tea. "If... If there is something I can do... Some way to gain an item that will counteract their abilities..." She trails off pointedly, looking back up at the goddess. Just because she's wiser doesn't mean she stronger. Not as much as she needs to be.
