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!
I will stand by you forever; you can take my breath away
It’s really the perfect temperature; warm, but not too hot to sleep - with the grass cool and pleasant beneath their feet. Or it might be, if Wessex could feel the subtle variations, the things that make early summer so enjoyable.
The one thing she can see even better than before are the fireflies and they seem to be in the Glade en masse tonight, perhaps drawn by the sultry lure of the glowstones. It’s nothing short of a midnight buffet of buggy romance disguised as a light show and when one lands on her skin, the Queen looks at it curiously. It flashes its butt at her and then flies off, and the Wraith follows it impulsively, laughing aloud as she leaps for another one, catching it in her hands.
Then the panic that she might have crushed it - but no, when she opens her hands slowly again, the tiny little bug is there, alive, antennae waving at her.
all alone, open eyed, burn the page my little dark age
Rigby wasn't in Torchline, which was a rare event. He didn't leave the region he'd grown up in often, he was used to the shady streets and sea breezes. They'd always provided enough for him, and he was the kind who asked for little. But today he'd wandered to the portal, he'd only used it one other time after being teleported away to another part of the world, a sweltering stinking swamp. Traumatizing, but the portal part had been the least awful aspect.
He'd come through the Hollowed Grounds to get home from that swamp, ended up at the Spire that he'd heard so many rumors about. And he hadn't wanted to stay at all, but he'd thought about the place every so often since then. Maybe it was the annoyance of Aurelia and Milo being home that pushed him out of the house, but Rigby wandered to the Torchline portal in late afternoon, with the hint of a destination in mind.
The grounds were cast in twilight when he stepped from the spire, the faint chirping of night bugs filled his ears. It was calm, where nights in Torchline were always loud and bustling. He was drawn to a set of fireflies nearby, the playful bugs wiggling and flitting from place to place. Rigby followed the trail of shimmering insects to the glade, to the radiant stones that pulsated their light all around.
He followed a specific bug, hands outstretched to capture it, almost missing the figure nearby. Almost. Fingers closed quickly around the creature, but he was no longer looking at it's light. His gaze fell upon the queen, he watched her silently, wondering if she'd seen him or if he could slip away quietly with his glowing prize.
I will stand by you forever; you can take my breath away
It takes Wessex a hot second before she notices the kid - and another hot second to recognize that it’s the same kid from the docks.
“It’s -” you, she almost blurts out, before catching her tongue and swallowing the word whole. Can’t let that little secret get out quite yet, now can she?
It’s what?
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she finally says after a small pause, turning her attention back to the firefly in her hands, which quickly lights up and escapes. Her eyes follow it up, up, and into the mix of the other bugs - and she can see all of them, in the dark, the way they meet and mingle in the air. Casting a side eye at the lanky man again, she says lightly, “You’re not a Grounder.”
all alone, open eyed, burn the page my little dark age
Of course Rigby wouldn't recognize her from that day on the docks, when the worker had thrown their disc so poorly and he'd mocked from the sidelines. He mocked enough people as it was, even if she took that form now he might not remember where he knew her from. His brows narrowed as the it's hung in the air, waiting cautious for a moment until she finished.
Beautiful? Rigby didn't often seek beauty in anything, nor was he an admirer of much at all. He'd really only ever let himself be found ogling a pack of cigarettes or a shiny trinket he could trade for a pack of cigarettes, it was almost embarrassing to have been caught playing such a silly game. He shrugged, opening his hands and letting the bug buzz away. It blinked once before it was lost to the dark like them.
To her next question he shook his head, "No," he said simply, watching her carefully.
I will stand by you forever; you can take my breath away
If that’s the way he wants to act, then Wessex will happily play along.
She was once a surly teen too, hated the world, found little worth her interest. All that anger - it was a lot. Overwhelming sometimes. The bad kind of caring, so she’d tried to simply not care at all. So maybe the Wraith recognizes a long-dead version of herself in the boy and that’s why she doesn’t press anything, just leveling a slightly arched look at him before shrugging and turning back to the fireflies.
Instead, she lets a bit of her preternatural speed shine, zipping to catch one bug in her right and then another quickly in her right hand. Then she gingerly puts the two hands together and tries to consolidate her prizes.
