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!
It had been nearly a year since Sam had deserted his Goddess, let himself be stripped of all powers and abilities and deserted her for a time; how strange that now he was back to where he had been, taking someone new to become Ascended, to become what he'd sworn he hated barely even four seasons ago. That contradiction and conflict played on his mind as he guided Ophelia down the tunnels, but he didn't voice any of it.
Hopefully, they'd get to experience The Voice and her love purely, at least for a while, before the complexities of it all crept in.
Eventually they came before the statue; Sam stopped at the opening to the chamber, gently took his hand away from Ophelia's. "Here it is. You can speak to the Voice here - just...be honest and tell her what you want and how you feel. You'll be fine." He'd leave if he felt it was too private, but for now he stayed at the back wall, watching.
no value in the strength of walls that I have grown
we're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty
The shrine itself is not unfamiliar to them. Aamu had brought them here, until they’d realized they had nothing to give and had set out to find an adequate offering. Only to be told anew by Sam that their presence alone would be enough. Ophelia still harbors doubts about that - they are not plagued by low self-esteem in the normal sense, but they do not find themself to be a worthy offering to a deity as pure as The Voice. They are sharp bones and thin skin, malnourished and petite. Certainly not the best clay to work with.
But after two Ascended insisting they would be accepted, Ophelia could no longer deny their own intense desires to see The Voice. To try.
Privacy is not a concern for Ophelia, though they appreciate the consideration shown. Nodding, feeling a little tongue tied and awed by what is about to transpire (they hope - there is still a fear that The Voice will not show for them), they kneel before the shrine and bow their head. It feels wrong to not hold ceremony as their parents had for their Old Gods. No candles, no collective prayer - though Ophelia had refused to participate in that particular tradition, consequences be damned. Still, it doesn’t mean they are without their best attribute; their words.
“I have prayed to you for many years,” they start, voice deceivingly soft-spoken despite the precise pronunciation and intensity of tone. “I waited, unable to come to you, until the last of my family died.” Here, they clutch the bloodstained bottom of their dress, and rip the hem with a sharp pull, the destruction of fabric loud in the underground. It flutters down to the ground with a careless flick of their fingers, the last remnant of a father they will not mourn. “I have seen and experienced firsthand what faith in the Old Gods receives; I have suffered enough at their arrogant hands.” It is obvious enough in their sallow face, the jut of bone beneath porcelain skin. Ignored by the gods their family desperately prayed to; even the death of their Abandoned sibling had not warranted visits or boons. “From my cage I have watched as you created life that would not suffer starvation or pain. Offered a family beyond those that our blood ties us to. And I have wanted.” Strange large eyes with their ghostlike pale blueness turn upward to the shrine, conviction written plain on their face. “I have waited patiently for this day. There is no doubt in my heart that you will find. Though I have nothing to offer you but myself, you have already had my devotion. I hope it will be enough.” That they have not made a mistake by coming empty handed and wanting.
trying vainly to forget the pain that came with heartbeats
The underground crackles to life. It is a different place than the one that was unearthed years before, when the Voice lay quietly in wait for those who would come to revive the Ascended faith. Now an ethereal light casts illumination on everything, clean and obsidian, and a goddess steps forth from her statue, a beautiful and untouchable hologram that nonetheless moves forward to cup Ophelia's cheeks.
"You are seen. You are wanted. You are welcomed here," she says softly, and there is nothing but beatific joy in her eyes, in the smile on her face. "And if you are ready to become bright, you will be given all you desire and more. There is family among us. No pain, no loneliness. Only us."
we're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty
Ophelia watches with breath stolen away in their chest as the statue lights, and She steps through into being. Their hands tremble, but their gaze never wavers. Useless organic heart rabbits away beneath a thin chest, sensing its own destruction and yearning for it. Ophelia leans into the touch that graces their skin, trusting and docile.
Each word is divine benediction, and crystal tears well joyously along pale lashes. Electric light dances in azure irises, illuminating them from within as Ophelia reaches their hand up to try and lay overtop the one that cradles their cheek. “I have never been more ready,” they confess, surety resonating in their dulcet tone. “I am yours. Please, make me bright. Let me join my siblings as their equal.” These people they have already tied themself to; Samuel and Aamu, and all the others that will come. There is no fear of pain to come. What is a little more pain to ensure the end of it forever?
trying vainly to forget the pain that came with heartbeats
04-27-2021, 08:06 PM (This post was last modified: 05-08-2021, 02:39 PM by the VOICE.)
the VOICE
"You will find in them no warmer family. None more protective, more loving and more devoted. Join them then, bright one. Join us all in the light." They will find the Voice's hand as solid as their own despite the holographic nature of her appearance, and her fingertips slip up to Ophelia's temples. "There will be pain, but it will be brief," she warns. "And then there will be nothing but the strength of your resolve, the love you hold in your heart for those whom you would join."
There is no further hesitation. The Voice gets to work as readily as Ophelia offers themselves to her touch. And they will find that she does not lie - for a brief and shining moment, the pain is such that it feels near overwhelming, near unbearable--
But then it is wiped completely. Fluid replaces blood, flesh becomes strong and supple and ageless. Biomachinery takes the place of inconvenient organs, and Ophelia is made whole. Made happy and made bright. "Your brothers and your sisters shall be your guides," she whispers to them. "Heed them well."
