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!
“Yes, and you haven’t always thought things through.” Wessex reminds him, perhaps a bit more crisply than she intended. “But this -” she indicates the two of them now, talking like people who were actually on the same side, “Seems like a good step for both of us in the right direction.”
Nodding a bit, she well remembers his fall from grace and hums thoughtfully when he mentions his remaining upgrades. “Okay. Good to know. Perhaps another defense-oriented thing would work, then.” But as she begins to think on what might mesh well with the bookmaker and everyone else’s upgrades, the Wraith remembers something the Voice mentioned to her in their last conversation.
“Ah, sorry, I have to ask. The Voice mentioned a peace thing you were working on. Was that you on the Notice Board? What’s that about?” It’s the first she’d heard about it, and she figures it’s best to hear about it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. That he’d done it didn’t bother her - it was the implications for his involvement, or lack thereof, that was concerning.
"Ha. Mm." Sam agreed, laughing at his own failures; there was no point in getting offended - he'd recently come to terms with a lot of his own foibles and was working on them. "I'm trying to get to know all of the Ascended better. We'll need that closeness."
Thankfully she didn't comment on his time away from the Voice; Sam was sure that Wessex had plenty to say about it, so her silence was a much-appreciated kindness. More defense orientated upgrades were definitely what he wanted; things that would allow him to remain safe while carrying on work behind the scenes and around the more social, soft concerns of a war.
Speaking of the war, though... "It was. I honestly am feeling more and more jaded from it, but...I want to try and see if we can get an idea of how many people, on both sides of this divide, are interested in peace. How many don't want to fight. If there's enough of us maybe we could work to do...something." He gestured vaguely, palms open before him. "It has to worth a try, right?"
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
“Yes, we will.” Readily agreeing, Wessex knows they’ll need more than closeness, they’ll need to trust each other. Which may be easier for some, harder than others. Maybe there’s still time to mend fences. Hell, if you’d told Wessex a year ago that she would be sitting with Sam on a stone wall in the middle of their home and having a calm, non-violence conversation with him, she may have told you to fuck right off.
“I don’t know, is it?” she questions, trying to keep everything as gentle and calm as it had been before. “You can’t stop this,” she murmurs, looking down at her own hands. “The Gods want it, and they have enough people under their sway to make it happen. Not liking it, being jaded - it doesn’t stop anything. It just leaves your own side weakened.” Wessex both looks and sounds grim, her lips pressing together into a thin line, forehead furrowed into a knit between her eyebrows. Good thing she’ll never have to worry about getting more wrinkles, this whole war thing would age her quickly.
“I don’t want it either. Really, I want nothing but to make the Grounds beautiful and happy. But at some point I have to accept it and prepare for the worst. So I need to know what you’re going to do. Or not do.”
Hearing Wessex unable to entertain even his last hope that peace was worth a try, Sam's shoulders slumped a little. He'd been coming to the same conclusion himself, but there had been a part of him that had wanted to hold on to the idea of peace, to the idea that somehow sense would prevail. "...Even the Voice wants it?"
As for what he was going to do - Gods, Sam wished he knew too. "...I will fight, if I have to. I don't want to and I don't think I'll be very good at it, but...The Voice is my Goddess and if it comes to it, I will fight for the Ascended. We have not committed enough sins for the kind of hatred the Old Gods have for us. It's wrong." If he was good at speaking, perhaps he could try and convince the world different, but Sam knew that wasn't even worth a try. No, all he could do was be sure he was ready when the time came.
"I'm...scared. Honestly." He admitted, glancing across at her. "Are you?"
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
In her heart of hearts, yes, the demigod does think that her patroness wants the war, but there are some things she can’t - and won’t put in their Lady’s mouth. “I think…” she begins carefully, “That She’s eager to bring all this nonsense with the heralds and Old Gods to an end. And She wants to see us free, bright, and without worry. The only way to achieve that is to make them acknowledge Her as an equal.” And Sam can draw opinions and assumptions from that, but she is very careful not to call the Voice a warmonger.
After he gives his promise to fight, Wessex reaches over and clasps a hand briefly, covering his with a squeeze. “Thank you.” Simple and heartfelt, there’s a weight to it that she hopes he understands - an acknowledgement that she knows that decision is not easy for him.
“I am too,” pulling her hand back, she looks out again at the Grounds and worries her bottom lip a bit, fangs sliding over the edge. “I’m scared I’ll make a bad decision. I’m scared I’ll lose you all. I’m scared we aren’t prepared.” Sighing, something steels in her - that infamous resolve to keep going. “But that doesn’t stop me from doing all that I can to prevent those things from happening.”
It's okay to be scared. It's not okay to let fear paralyze them.
"An end..." Sam repeated quietly, an ironic smile briefly on his lips. "Do you think that end involves everyone that isn't Ascended gone? Or...do you think we'll be able to end it before that? I know..I know you can't tell me the future, but I think the Voice tells you the most of her plans." If any of them were to know how the war would go, it was Wessex.
Blinking and looking up as Wessex took his hand, all Sam could do was nod; he knew he wouldn't be much use, but he'd give all he had.
It was further comfort, in an odd way, to hear that Wessex was scared too. It was not just a fault of his own, but something they all dealt with in the face of such terrifying odds. "...Yes, you're right. I spoke to the Voice and she seemed far more confident than I thought she would. I suppose she might have some things we don't know about."
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
A world full of just Ascended? It doesn’t sound like the vision the Voice wants, but then perhaps Wessex is projecting her own version of a utopia instead of their Lady’s. Taking a moment to think it through, she has to eventually shake her head. “I don’t know… other than I don’t think getting rid of non-Ascended is her goal. We’ll always be more special, but she’s always said she’s here for everyone. And then there’s the population problem. From a purely logistical point of view, it isn’t practical.”
And the Voice is, amongst mamy things, highly practical.
“Unfortunately, I’m still on a need-to-know basis. I know what She needs me to do, but I don’t get a lot of the bigger picture.” And when she does - no, she won’t tell Sam her doubts quite yet. That’s something for another time.
“I think they underestimate her cleverness,” she says quietly. “And She knows it.”
Sam nodded; it was comforting actually to think of it in terms of practicalities, because he too knew that the Voice kept things efficient. There weren't enough Ascended to sustain a population, and for more Ascended to be made, the other races had to live and produce children and turn to the Voice: they needed the others. "You're right. Then I hope of the ones that remain...some are friends."
Some of his friends, like Remi, were far too powerful to be left alive in the event of their victory, he knew that.
He sensed there were probably things Wessex wasn't telling him, but Sam was smart enough to know not to push it when they were getting along. "...Yes, I've heard a lot of comments about the Voice from people that've never met her that are very off-base."
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
“Me too,” Wessex readily agrees. “I hate thinking that I’ll have to meet certain on the battlefield - if it comes to that. I hate knowing that they think it’s okay to wipe out an entire race of people.” Her mind drifts to Hotaru, to Aurelia, and Noah. People who she liked, enjoyed their company, and had helped. And vice versa. How they were apparently so threatened that their future had to be Ascended-less. “It’s really hard to reconcile those two things.”
So maybe they aren’t such good people, after all.
“I know! keep trying to encourage people to go talk to her themselves, but they’re really fucking stubborn about it! It blows my mind that they just accept the truth from someone else!” All of a sudden rather animated and incredulous, something seems to have struck one of the Wraith’s nerves - and for once, it wasn’t directed at Sam’s character. "Even our own brothers and sisters seem hesitant to go and see her."
"I don't understand it. Remi, Ronin, Amalia...I know...I know they have reasons to work for the Old Gods, connections and things, but...how can they actually believe it? That we're so dangerous we need to be taken out? That they have to follow them?" Despair now gripping him firmly, Sam sighed and pushed his hands through his hair. It felt as if he'd shifted, at some point down the line, to a new dimension, one where his friends were enemies and reasonable people had disappeared. "Amalia is my sister. But that's not worth anything, I suppose."
They'd never gotten along, despite their best efforts, but he'd never thought she'd happily go along with his and his people's genocide.
He nodded, having noticed this himself and found it irritating too; he'd been lectured several times by people that had never seen the Voice about the Goddess as if they knew exactly how she was. "I've been trying to encourage the new ones too, but they feel like they're bothering her. Maybe...maybe we should do some kind of family-wide prayer to introduce them."
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
Whether or not the Old God demis truly believed the Ascended were dangerous didn’t really matter. It’s that they were willing to stand behind the genocide, no matter what. “I’m not sure they do,” is all Wessex can offer as a consolation, shrugging. “Aside from Amalia and Delphia. They have other things and people who are more important, or maybe they just love their powers too much. I don’t know. Whatever there reasons are, they made their peace with them.” Otherwise they wouldn’t be here, there wouldn’t be two sides. Siblings could just as easily fall apart, and if there’s anything she’s learned over the years, it’s that family is a two way street.
“That’s so… weird.” Frowning a bit, Wessex makes a mental note to ponder that one for the future and then looks at Sam again. “I suppose it might be time for a family meeting soon. I’m probably going to step down, focus on some demigod things, and we’ll need to… get reacquainted. Meet the new ones. Start a new plan.”
Maybe then he could have his chance to start to lead.
"...Mmm." Sam accepted her words, for there was little else to do, but they were troubling. The fact was that people he knew, people he liked, chose their own lives over the lives of innocents, chose hate over peace. He could not entirely blame them, not with the leverage the Old Gods held, but it was still hard to reconcile his ideas of his old friends with their new missions.
As for people not wanting to bother the Voice..he tilted his head side to side, considering it. "I've always dreaded bothering people and I suppose they might be used to the Old Gods, who are...far less forgiving than the Voice, I've heard." He'd not made a habit of going to their shrines, but he got the impression that the Voice was far happier to speak to one of her Ascended than the Old Gods were to talk to anyone.
"That sounds like a good plan." Sam agreed; a new chance to gather and reestablish their goals. "...Stepping down is um, not something I thought you'd want to do."
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
Dipping her head from shoulder to shoulder, Wessex certainly looks like she’s agreeing with Sam’s statement. “I can’t do everything,” she says after a moment and it feels like an admittance of failure. Someway. Somehow. She’s failed at being SuPeR dEmI and all that other self-flagellation she heaps unnecessarily upon herself in private. “Unfortunately. Have to do what’s best for everyone, not just my ego.”
Offering a wry smile, Wessex hops off the stone wall and stretches a bit out of habit. “Don’t get me wrong, part of me loves being Queen. The other part… would’ve chosen something vastly different.” An explorer, a hunter, a protector in a different way. Without all the responsibility. Jutting her chin towards the path back to the shops and homes, she indicates she’s heading that way, if he wants to stay with her for a bit and make it a four-page thread.
And if he does, she asks, “Whatever happened to that book you were working on? About the Ascended and the Voice?”
"No one can." Sam replied, almost instantly, seeing in Wessex a self-doubt that he knew himself all too well; it felt wrong to see a glimpse of it in someone strong, someone that had become their de facto leader. Whether he always agreed with her or not, Sam respected Wessex for her determination and strength; to see it falter was enough to make him anxious, even when just for a moment.
Gently pushing himself off the wall, Sam nodded and began to walk with her back towards the town. "I imagine it's...hard to have so many people's expectations on you." He didn't think it was a role he could ever hope to take on; the pressure of having to deliver for everyone in the Grounds would destroy him.
Gravel crunching under his feet and his fingers messing with the hem of his shirt when Wessex asked about his book, Sam finally replied: "Well...with everything, I just kind of...stopped working on new books. But I've been meaning to get back to it. It just feels so pointless to work on them when there's a war coming, you know?"
I was not ready for the road I was so discontent to wear that heavy load
