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!
The buildings were new. The people were new. Sounds and scents and the way sunlight broke through handblown glass in tall windows were all bombarding her senses as Seren made her way down from the barracks and out into the training field. The past day had been a blur of introductions, instructions and things to remember, while she was still getting her feet under herself - quite literally. Perhaps the most difficult part in the transition from her mother's realm was the sheer weight of standing in the mortal world. Being solid, physical, with earth under her feet and wind against her back and hair whipping this way and that - it took quite a lot of adjusting, and the young demigod had already realized that she was frightfully unprepared for this new life of hers.
A dragoon. She would become one. Her father had promised, and everything was already underway in preparation for the real training to begin, but before that Seren wanted to figure out her limits. Without anyone hovering over her, or yelling, and without a gaggle of onlookers to assess and judge her every move.
Yet, as she stood there at the edge of the range and struggled to tame her wild locks into a braid, the young woman admitted to herself that she had no idea where to even begin. Surreptitiously she glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby. Maybe if she could just watch and imitate, for a start...
It's written in the stars above Exactly who we are is just enough
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
'Cause she's just like the weather Can't hold her together Born from dark water
Daughter of the r a i n and s n o w
There are always strangers in the Nest, and despite her attempts to meet more Dragoons, there are still many she doesn't know. So though she feels a stirring of recognition as her eyes sweep over the raven-haired youth, she doesn't recognize her- not enough to put a name to the itching in the back of her mind.
The last time she saw Seren she'd been a child, after all.
Amalia's hair is tightly braided and pinned against her hair. The halo is scarcely visible beneath the bright spring sun; she bears no animalistic features, nor sword or shield today. Once more she glances at the stranger, that itch of recognition still nagging against her thoughts; then she shrugs, shaking it off, and begins her graceful, practiced warm-up.
Stretching first, the poses held, her dancer's body flexible as it is strong. She moves steadily and easily, breathing through it as muscles grown and loosen and warm. And after that's done Amalia goes to grab a jump rope from the shelves of gear, dark eyes flickering once more to the youth.
The eying was mutual, and the sense of recognition nagged at Seren. The face was one she felt she ought to remember, and sparked a memory of something dark and warm and comforting - fun times? - but if she had ever learned her name, it remained just out of reach for now. More importantly, the strangely familiar woman was moving, and the starchild did her best to surreptitiously copy the stretches and bends. Of course, hers was not the fluid grace of a dancer, but rather the awkward stumble of one unfamiliar with her own strength. There was a lot of swaying and wobbling involved, and a few twists that Seren just couldn't manage, no matter how she tried. Too stiff, was she, and nowhere near strong enough in any regard.
By the time her inspiration was ready to move on to something more challenging, the teenager was red in the face and slightly out of breath, and so frustrated she could cry. Enough so that when she looked up and found herself watched, she shoved aside the awkwardness and approached the other woman. Equal parts awkwardness and determination colored her stride... or perhaps it was just the boots chafing against feet unaccustomed to such confinement.
"Hi. Uhm... Sorry if I'm bothering you, but would you mind... Could you perhaps show me, how you did those last stretches? I don't think I did it properly."
It's written in the stars above Exactly who we are is just enough
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
'Cause she's just like the weather Can't hold her together Born from dark water
Daughter of the r a i n and s n o w
Fortunately, or unfortunately, for Seren, Amalia is more than accustomed to being eyed - anonymity became a luxury the Angel couldn't afford a long time ago. The mimicry of her stretching has the once-Shield smiling surreptitiously; she slows herself, deliberate in her actions, exaggerating some of the motions for the other to easier replicate.
She can't say she's surprised when the girl intercepts her, though the sweat on her brow and the flush of frustration over her cheeks leave her a little bemused. Dragoons generally didn't struggle this much, and Amalia shakes her head thoughtfully. "Sure- but you were doing great. It wasn't the easier set," she murmurs somewhat apologetically, a wry twist to her lips.
Amalia returns to the mat, setting her jump rope on the ground and turning back to the girl. Barefoot in shorts and a backless top, the Angel is a far different picture from the youth. Her head jerks towards Seren's boots; "Take those off first. Then show me which poses you weren't confident on."
The girl perked up slightly at the compliment, though not so much that she would pass up the opportunity for instruction. "Thank you! That's very kind of you." With something akin to relish she hastily kicked off the boots and tossed them aside, nearly sighing with relief at feeling the ground beneath her bare feet again.
Lowering herself to the ground, Seren somewhat unsteadily tried to recreate the poses that she had struggled with; a wide stance with the shoulders twisted to the side and arms tucked behind the back, followed by a second with the feet set wide apart, palms to the earth and chin raised high. Unable to spread her feet far enough before stiff joints began to complain, she wobbled unsteadily for a second before teetering enough that she had to break the stance to catch herself.
"These... I keep losing balance," she explained rather redundantly, and threw a hopeful glance up at the other woman. There was much to admire there, from the trim silhouette to the quiet competence she had demonstrated in her exercise. Seren wished she could recall where she had seen the woman before. It seemed important, somehow.
It's written in the stars above Exactly who we are is just enough
✰ Starlight (Passive) | Starfilled night billow around her like a veil as she moves. It is more noticeable in daytime and when she make sudden movements.
