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 Spire had always been a part of the background, the scenery, the surroundings, for her entire life. She’d known of its existence, its parallels, its modicums for as long as she could remember – demonic presences guarding it, until Outlanders came and forged onward, until they pressed and scourged their way within, until walls and stone became markers of something else entirely.
Like her Goddess. Like a visual representation of all her strength, dignity, power, and poise. Like something to be feared, by all the other lesser, weaker individuals, hoping for a sign, an answer, from their Old Gods.
But Mabel knew better.
However, she’d never traversed into its confines. Too busy with other multitudes, the youth hadn’t ignored the tower per se, but had wandered around it. Only now did it seem to express some sentiment, some rumination, deep within her soul. And she had to know.
She had to find it.
If you dig under my feet You will find things that you don't want to see
She slunk her way through, on footsteps soft, light, and eerie, eyes narrowed, piercing, angling, wandering, waiting for the semblance of a sign. Her head shifted upward, staring at the denizens surrounding her – at the scars of other means, at the blackness, at the Stygian abyss, and then downwards, throughout the remains. Had she been wrong? Intuition had galvanized her forward, and now she wondered if it had been nothing more than a foolish tendency –
Except, there was a stone – a resonance, a reverberation twisting and binding, pulling at her tethers. Like a dutiful cretin, she inclined forward, still enigmatic, towards the rock and rubble, reaching out her hand to brush upon its sanction. What was this?
If you dig under my feet You will find things that you don't want to see
The stone moves easily beneath Mabel's fingers. Within the darkened rectangle a small recess has been excavated long, long ago. Inside in a small winged creature that appears to be made out of the nails once-driven into the feet of horses. They have been bent and fused with electricity and then adorned with wings of flexible glass.
The rock moved, and with it came an open proportion. Greedy, avaricious, curious hands reached, consumed suddenly by the creation before her. Winged, seemingly bludgeoned and hardened by blacksmith entities, but then far greater, far brighter. The youth raised it to her eyes, to seek it out, to be closer, ponder over the wiles, inspect and scrutinize. “Now what do I do with you?” She whispered into the threads of the Spire, as if it would tell her, as if the knowledge might pour into her soul. Drive it into her flesh? Pocket it in her bag? The quandaries compelled and settled, and she waited for a moment – hesitation lingering in between the thresholds of rapacity.
If you dig under my feet You will find things that you don't want to see
No reaction to her voice, to her innermost thoughts; though she figured it’d been worth a try. No sentient pulse of creature to creature.
Brows furrowing, she continued to examine it, pondering over the nails, the wiles, the wings. Was it something to be inserted? Did it require her fluid to be released? Entirely uncertain, and incapable of receiving anything via her vocals, the youth maneuvered along the glass proportions. She slid it rapidly across one of her fingers, intending to cut or slice, to open a portion without the pain, without the anguish, to see if that had been a necessity all along.
If you dig under my feet You will find things that you don't want to see
Nothing again – the fluid didn’t take. Her eyes watched as the small incision she made within her skin began to heal, and she perused the object again. Frustration yearned to take over – but she had to remind herself that she’d barely tried. The reward wouldn’t come without effort; a stark pierce and pulse to her mind, as she jutted out her chin, as she stoked some weathering of defiance, and studied proportions once more.
Perhaps it had more to do with the wings? Her fingers strived to push nimbly down on the flexible proportions of glass, to see if it activated anything.
If you dig under my feet You will find things that you don't want to see
Oh buoyed in her mind, flickering and weighing out the maneuvers. There was a brief instance of clarity of something other than nothing. The slightest of movement came from beneath her hand; glass flutters, like a ghostly breath, a wavering of potential. Maybe she’d done it. Maybe she’d figured it out. Or maybe it was a false alarm, and she’d have to start all over again.
She paused for half a moment, before furrowing her brows and applying more pressure with her fingers, maneuvering the wings down further, striving to manifest the motion again. To try harder, experiment into strength adhering into the bounty, into the device, lips pursed and nose wrinkled, concentration only adhering to this circumstance.
If you dig under my feet You will find things that you don't want to see
The wings reminded her of her sister; albeit briefly. How Evelyn had been able to launch upwards, fight gravity, with only so much as existing – compelled, whenever she craved or yearned, to float up above the rest of the world. So the youth raised her head too – following the tracks of steps.
What if –
Furrowing her brows, and keeping hold of the device, she trailed and traced after the stone stairs, winding along the Spire. When she managed to find a height that wouldn’t alter her form too badly should this idea be completely absurd – she bunched and coiled her frame together, and jumped.
If you dig under my feet You will find things that you don't want to see
Mabel falls, predictably, but the small device remains aloft. As soon as the ascended lands and gathers her wits, she'll realize that, should she concentrate, she can see from the point of view of the device.
Congratulations! Mabel has received
Flutterspy | A small mechanical butterfly. Can fly in a radius of 10m from an ascended, and transmit images of what it sees to whomever released it.
