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!
“They might,” Wessex concedes, though her tone says she’s not optimistic. “Remember we’re abominations, though. If you’d taken the time to make it clear that Ascended aren’t even human in your eyes, how productive do you think a conversation like that would be for us?” And this is where Wessex always seems to get frustrated - the trying and the trying and trying with those who long ago made their positions known.
The Gods and their heralds are stones; no amount of pleading or bargaining or trying to prove otherwise would move their so-called hearts. Three hundred years hadn’t changed anything and the Wraith very much doubts that any single individual could, either.
She’s trying to remain calm, of course, trying to interact differently with Sam this time, but the question triggers the old irritations and she has to pause, gripping the handles of the wheelbarrow tightly before replying, tight-lipped again. “Where it went. What happened to it after LongNight. Because if it hasn't been destroyed, it could be used against us again. ”
"...You're right. It's..hard to know what to say to someone who has already decided you're evil. Amalia won't listen to me at all anymore either and I'm worried that the friends I had that were ambivalent to the Gods...I think they're being snatched up." He sighed, holding his arms at the elbows and hunching in his shoulders. "Ronin...Remi...everyone is being made into a Demi God and forced into things. It's not that different from Ascending, really."
Sam was beholden to the Voice because of his body, Remi was beholden to Ludo because of his child and powers. At the end of the day, they were both pawns.
He could sense his question had irked her a little, but he hadn't known how else to buy time. As it turned out, she wasn't asking about the origins again; Sam let out a breath and shook his head. "No. It seems no one knows where it is. I suppose the person to ask would be Deimos, if you could even get in contact with him anymore...since he made it, you know. But he might not know either." He shrugged; at the end of the day, if it was still a door, it wasn't that hard to avoid.
"We need more weapons of our own. Maybe something we could ask the Voice about. I...want to remain peaceful, but if we have to defend ourselves...against everyone else? I don't think we have much of a chance." Pessimistic, maybe, but that was how he always was.
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
She’s surprised by what he says, pausing briefly in her wheeling to consider the comparison. “Huh. I’d never thought of it that way, but… yeah, you’re kinda right.” Would Ronin have ascended to demigod status if he hadn’t died? Would Remi have? Does it even matter? If not them, then someone else, surely. “Guess I’m lucky, then.” Her lips tighten into a close-mouthed grin, perhaps a bit more grim than she’d like.
And it only turns grimmer, as he mentioned Deimos.
“Well, that won’t be happening. Kiada might be able to find out, but I’m afraid that Deimos and I don’t have much of a relationship.” And likely never would. But it’s worth asking Kiada, she thinks - or asking Sam to ask Kiada.
They reach another shed - this one used just for storing tools, and Wessex opens it to begin to return the wheelbarrow and the shovel. “I actually do think we have a chance, but we have to learn to work together - myself included - and we have to accept that this shitty thing is coming, whether we want it to or not. We have to learn to trust each other and be brave and -” the shovel is tossed unceremoniously in, as she leans over the wheelbarrow, hands gripping the edges tightly. “Yeah, we need some more weapons. And we need to shield ourselves from the Order, still.”
Sam didn't comment, because really he thought Wessex wasn't lucky; none of them that were tied to a God were in his view. Despite all of his convictions and nowadays relatively stable belief in the Voice, he still yearned for a life where he could claim neutrality and stay out of the whole thing.
It wasn't surprising that Wessex and Deimos didn't have much of a relationship; the man was stalwart and stubborn in his principles and Sam had very much gotten the impression his principles did not include helping the Ascended. Looking down with a knitted brow he kicked a stone in front of his shoe, idling thinking back to the dinner he'd had with Amalia and Deimos and how awkward it had been. Gods, if only his biggest problem now was an awkward family dynamic. "Do you think he's going to be a Demi God too?"
The door was swinging, so he held it still as she put the wheelbarrow back, watching her do it with a distracted eye as she spoke. "Do we know what the Order have that we need to protect against? We need someone who can get on the inside and help us..."
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
“Deimos?” She’s making a face that Sam can’t see, “Fuck if I know.” Seems like the Gods might have done it already if they were going to, but Wessex knows jack shit about their strategy or inclinations.
Releasing her stress-hold on the wheelbarrow, the demigod straightens and wipes her hands off, turning to face Sam with a nod of thanks for holding the door open. “It’s more of a ‘you can’t come here,’ kind of thing. So if worse comes to worse, we can retreat here-ish. Ronin won’t be able to come in. Others who might be looking for intel. Or that’s the working theory.” Shrugging a bit, Wessex’s head falls slightly at the other inquiry.
“Not sure about getting someone on the inside, though. If it’s even possible without detection…?” Unwilling to divulge any information about Henry’s offer, Wessex can only waver in person, fully aware that she hasn’t any clue about what the potential risks would be other than death - and things worse than death. The risk of such an idea looms heavy and ominous in an already laden mind.
Sam had to give out a tiny, under his breath laugh at that. It seemed like in a week he could look around and find everyone around him was a Demi God. He supposed next time he saw Deimos he'd just have to look out for wings or laser eyes or whatever the General was blessed with.
"I just...wish I could understand. Talk to them for a while; but I know that's a stupid idea." He sighed, shutting the door once she was through it and leaning against the wall of the shed, fiddling with the cuff of his shirt sleeve. "It's not like the Voice is actually hurting anyone, at least not for a long time. If anything, with the portals, life has gotten better...maybe..." An idea coming to him, Sam looked up with a bright spark in his eyes. "Maybe if things got really bad, we could ask her to make the portals only usable by us. Then we'd be able to get around much quicker than them."
It would at least give them a headstart in any fleeing they'd have to do, which Sam suspected would be a lot.
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
She knows the despair (though maybe she’s taking liberties calling it that) in his voice, her own frustrations lately mirrored in the bookmaker. “It’s not a stupid idea,” she says gently, laying a hand on his shoulder as she comes out of the shed. “Just a pointless thing that will only end in frustration.” Removing her hand, she looks at Sam a bit sadly, “Even if not all of them are like Amalia in their… beliefs about Ascended, they’re under the Old Gods’ sway enough to choose the side that says genocide is okay. Or maybe forced to be, I don’t know.”
Maybe Sunjata was tricked and maybe he wasn’t. Maybe Ronin wanted to have a child by a goddess. Maybe not. She isn’t close enough to any of them to know the truth. “I’m not sure if there’s anything more to understand about that choice. They clearly have other priorities. Or their hatred of the Voice is strong enough to warrant it.” Neither of which they can counter.
Gesturing for him to walk with her with another jerk of her chin, Wessex starts to meander through the settlement. “I asked her that, a couple of seasons ago. It sounded like it could be done - and I’m honestly not opposed to it. But we’d need some way for our allies to move too.”
Ain’t no one like Henry getting left behind. Not on her watch.
The gentleness coming from Wessex was a surprise, Sam having come to associate her with hard and unforgiving practicality; he looked over with a couple of blinks, surprised enough to just listen in silence. When she was finished he nodded, frowned at the dirt beneath while he wished he could say anything she'd said was wrong. "I just don't know how we got here. Only a couple of years ago, I felt like we were all...not perfect, but learning to get along. Then somewhere it just...went wrong."
Had he fallen short somewhere? Had the Ascended made the wrong choices, had the wrong conversations? Would any of it had mattered, if the Gods were determined to have their war? These questions would be on Sam's mind for a long time.
Walking with her when prompted to, he nodded at Wessex's addition. "Maybe we could...give people we trusted something that would allow them to pass through. Some kind of object - the Voice would be able to do that, right?" She could make all kinds of things, so he didn't see why not...though ideally it wouldn't be too visible, in case it got too dangerous for their allies to be known.
"You..." Sam sighed, hoping he wasn't about to be laughed at. "You know, you and I are the strongest of the Ascended. You much more so than me, obviously, but I feel responsible. Like I should be some kind of leader or protector - but I don't know what I'm doing."
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
How did they get here? That was easy: it wasn’t any mortal’s fault. “The Old Gods brought us here,” Wessex says simply. “They want this. They prod it along. If they could live and let live, it would be fine, but they can’t. So -” spreading her hands wide, she shrugs. There is nothing they can do about it except go along for the ride and try to survive.
Did their Lady have something to do with it? Perhaps. The demigod can’t say for sure and her hypotheses will always err on the side of doubt when it comes to the New God’s antagonizing existence.
“It’s a definite possibility.” She agrees when it comes to the talismans, though she’d like something that couldn’t be stolen so easily. It’s something to think about if the time comes when they need to do such a thing as restrict movement - though in her head it’s a last resort. “She didn’t seem to want to close the portals, but if it came to it I’m sure something could easily be done.” The bigger problem is in who they could trust, she thinks, but holds that thought tightly back.
Maybe because she isn’t sure yet if she can truly trust Sam.
“There are lots of different strengths…” the Queen begins slowly, unsure of how to navigate her feelings about the bookmaker and reconcile them with their need to work together. “You should play to what yours are, not what you think they should be.”
Sam didn't disagree with what Wessex said, though hearing it out loud he had to wonder if they were biased unfairly; surely those that worshipped the Old Gods would have a way to blame it all on the Voice. Maybe this was his problem, always wanting to consider everyone's side; that kind of doubt had lead to his deserting the Voice the year before. Unwavering faith was not Sam's strength, not even when he knew the Voice's love well; his mind would always wander and doubt.
In the coming years there probably wouldn't be a lot of room for that doubt, he knew.
"I'm sure the Voice has solutions we haven't thought of too." After all, it was her technology; he was sure she wouldn't have built it without safety measures if they were needed. It really was the height of hypocrisy that those opposed to the Voice and her advancements would use her portals to further their goals, but the Old Gods and their servants had never been interested in sense. He sighed and rubbed at his eye as they walked along.
Encouraging words from Wessex were not what he was expecting (though he supposed they were what he was looking for). "..You're right. I'm worried there aren't enough of us strong enough to fight the Demi-Gods aligned to the Old Gods though. Remi...Ronin...Amalia...I've seen them fight. I've seen their strength. You could be their equal, but I don't know if we have anyone else that is."
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
Here is where her prior conversation with their Lady comes in handy.
Wessex nods, understanding the feeling all to well and as they come upon a low stone wall, she heads towards it, opting to sit to have the kind of conversation she knows she needs to have with Sam. “Come on, sit.” Patting the space next to her, the Wraith turns her gaze on her sibling and tries to keep it mild despite the familiar bubbles that tell her he’s not listening.
She does blatantly assume that he will sit and stay with her, so even if he doesn’t immediately do so, Wessex begins. “Sam, that’s the thing, you don’t have to be.” Shaking her head just a little bit, the demigod goes on. “And your way of fighting doesn’t have to be like mine. That’s the beauty of it, the strength of our family. Nate and I, and Cal and Neron, and maybe even Edy if she ever gets her act together, are fighters. Az and Isla are healers and they are just as important as the fighters. So is having a good public face - a ,normal face with normal relationships like Bastien and Kiada.”
She brushes a stray strand of hair away and looks out to the occasional person walking by. “You’re right that no one else can take on the other demigods right now. And that’s okay. Because Amalia can’t kill, and she hasn’t been seen for weeks, apparently. Ronin can be manipulated.” In fact, they’d already done it. “And Remi - Remi has his weaknesses. We aren’t flying blind.”
Still, her lips purse a bit, not entirely convinced that it’s a true weakness.
“So -” turning back to Sam, her hands fold across her chest. “with fighting the demis off the table, how do you want to lead and protect?”
Wessex stopped and sat, asked him to pause with her; Sam was for a second suspicious, wary old memories returning...but the conversation had been going well so far and he did want to hear what she had to say, so he obediently sat next to her, hands on his knees, looking across to see if she would try and bring him comfort about their chances in the war.
She listed names of fighters, some of them people he didn't expect. He'd honestly assumed Neron to be weak and only good with his voice, thought that Edy was too disenfranchised to fight for them; maybe he was wrong. Wessex, after all, was more strategically minded and had probably seen them in action. Healers he understood, and Bastien and Kiada, while neither of them were people he knew particularly well, were obviously the ambassadors of the Ascended.
That Amalia couldn't kill was news to him. Sure, she was under Vi, but Sam had little faith in the Old God's principles. Ronin and Remi were another thing entirely; that they were enemies still tugged on his heart. "Ronin can be manipulated? How do you mean? He already has a child with Safrin..." As far as he knew, the man was well and truly aligned to the other side.
The question turned back on him gave Sam pause. What did he bring to the family? A part of him wanted to ask Wessex what she thought (it would at least be interesting to hear what she'd say) but he could tell that wasn't what she was wanting. "I think...I'm good at helping organise support. At helping people when they're recovering, or at trying to make the best of something bad. I...I'd like to think I'm kind, which must count for something?" It was obvious he was struggling with this question, his fingers tapping out nervous little beats on his knees.
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
Sam will get no specifics from her regarding Ronin other than secretive half-smile and a small shrug of her shoulders. Maybe Wessex knows the answer to that and maybe she doesn’t, but she’s not willing to share that particular information strategy just yet.
Tilting her chin towards her brother, Wessex listens quietly, nodding to acknowledge that yes, he is kind and yes, that is something that counts. “I think so. I’m learning more and more that it’s a good, useful thing. Can’t always barrel through things like a bull.” Which is saying a lot, because that used to be Wessex’s main tactic, opinions and results be damned. But life doesn’t always work that way and so, yes - kindness is a strength.
“Well, what about some sort of volunteer slash outreach? Make an effort to keep a helpful Ascended presence in Halo and Torchline? Keep an eye on the Notice Boards for things that people need help with? Or you could ask Isla or Nate what needs to be done with the Infirmary or Wren Society.” Her head tilts the other way, considering a few things.
“What upgrades do you have? If we’re thinking long term support.” Support can come in so many forms, from healing to boosting power to suppressing others' abilities.
It was a blessing that Wessex agreed with him; Sam had been half-afraid he was going to be laughed at for listing his kindness in his strengths. There certainly were those on both the Ascended and Old God's sides that would dismiss him as a pathetic bystander and little else, not worthy for the front lines - which he wasn't, but hopefully he could find use elsewhere, as Wessex suggested.
"...You have been a little forceful in the past." He agreed; really a massive understatement given the two times she'd threatened him with a knife (and one time succeeded in hitting him with it).
As for what he could do, her suggestion was something he was already doing in a sense anyway, and something he could certainly do more actively. Helping Isla or Nate would allow him to be useful in a war situation, allow him to help people without having to harm. "Those are good ideas." When it came to his upgrades though, Sam had to grit his teeth and awkwardly look away, shuffling in his seat.
"I um, lost them all when...yeah, and--" Sam was sure he didn't have to tell Wessex when he was stripped of his abilities. "--I have my shield and my invisibility back."
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
