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!
There was a clear trust between the two and it caused his lips to quirk upwards ever so slightly. ”Im glad you two met- you always seem happy together.” The first time Oliver ever even met Deimos, he was with his companion. It only seemed fitting that they’d stay together. The idea of asking the gods had never crossed his mind, but he didn’t even consider it for long. ”Im not sure...” Would it be right to ask for one? There were surely more important things to worry about. ”Ill have to give it some thought. Maybe something smaller- a unicorn feels too big for me.” And that was all he had to say on the subject. Otherwise, he truly had zero idea.
A sigh and a nod. ”Yes. They don’t want to leave a home they grew up in for generations.” That was a shared sentiment, seemingly. Oliver could kind of understand but damn. You’d think they would have a breaking point.
Oliver offers the man a grin. ”Yep!” Oliver one hundred percent knew that Deimos was holding back- and he appreciated it. It didn’t feel like the guy was babying him but still felt considerate.
And ah- the one thing he couldn’t stop.
Fucking wind
He’d try to fortify his walls even more and even try to use telekinesis, but he knew it was probably too late. His fortress would tumble soon.
A genuine smile curled in the corners of his mouth as Oliver mentioned the Sword and Zuriel seeming content with one another – and they were, in a matter of truth. Capable of understanding, of comprehending, of knowing each other without words, bonded by souls and links, by heroism and even exchanges – life for life. Her loyalty, once gained, was a boon, and though the creature was proud and haughty, perhaps she had every right to be. “Thank you.” He went to scratch at the mare’s ears, and she tilted her head, easily content. “She has saved quite a few of us.” Deimos would have been dead long ago if it weren’t for her.
But for the manner of Oliver’s own manifestations, he nodded once more, into the semblances of understanding. The equines weren’t for everyone – and there were multitudes of other options.
Not wishing to leave a place one had known and understood for generations was unsurprising – given some options and choices in his lives, he might have done the same; dug those tenacious heels in and stubbornly, obstinately, found himself layered and lacquered into the spaces of everything he knew. But that left the rest of the worlds before them – no knowledge, no sagacity. “Maybe it is fear.” He shrugged his shoulders. They couldn’t make them leave, couldn’t convince them to stray, where they might not be under constant duress.
At the agreement that Deimos was barely holding, the monolith laughed. His eyes caught the glimmer of Oliver’s powers, watched as walls were further lifted, and the wind could only scatter around the brim of the dome, pausing to flicker over powder. “Well done.” He tilted his head, a further wondering, uncertain for how long the blacksmith wanted to continue. “Has that been enough for you?” And the castle?
Oliver had never needed such saving from a unicorn, but he could understand their importance. ”And I’m sure she will continue to be especially important... even if it is just brightening your day. Right?” Oliver could see the visible bond. It was strong and deep. Surely, she brought Deimos much needed to joy. Deimos didn’t exactly show tons of happiness and it left Oliver worrying if the guy was depressed. No joke at this point. The two simply weren’t close enough for Oliver to mention it.
Not much could be said for the natives- those who were very blunt with their intentions of staying. ”As outsiders, I guess we will never truly understand how they feel. And that’s just it.” Nothing more could be said it seems. They would only ever have a surface level idea of what they’ve dealt with. How they feel.
A sense of pride fills him and Oliver finds himself smiling as he takes a few deep breaths, the cold creating small puffs of mist as he did so. ”Yeah- I think that’s enough- thank you... it’s been a while since I really felt like I could experiment and- yeah.”[/says] Oliver couldn’t find the right words. Deimos had helped him once again- and even complimented him. It felt so nice and wonderful... but why? Why did Deimos continue to help him.
That answer would probably never come. ”I guess you have to get going... yeah? I know you never leave- but if you do, come visit me if you need me.”
“Right,” came on a general accord; the smile chiseled and remaining for the mare; one of the few who stayed and never strayed. Unaware of Oliver’s inklings towards his mental health, the Sword simply stood in his wake, nodding in agreement. Outsiders, Outlanders, for eternity, no matter how long they lived, breathed, and immersed themselves into the climates, into the lands, into the folds of assimilation. He normally just bowed his head at their discretions, listened to their information, and carried on – forging pathways to assist as best he could.
But then there appeared to be naught else; the protections adhered, the castle salvaged and shielded for another day. He did manage a laugh at Oliver’s implication that Deimos didn’t leave the glacial quarters. “You are welcome. And I travel.” It wasn’t a promise, a conviction, or a vow, but some measure of reassurance. “Take care, Oliver.” And with that, companion and General did what they so often strived for, and carried onward, along the Citadel’s vestiges.
