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!
If you're caught in the shadow then turn around If you hear my voice, follow the sound 'Cause I'm here to guide you home
Folding her legs up under herself as though she was sitting on a comfortable cushion rather than bobbing about in mid air, Seren looked so at home that this might as well have been a living room to her. If the layers of clothing chosen for a colder climate bothered her it did not show; temperature did not seem to matter here. It was neither warm nor cold, and despite the rolling waves there was no wind to stir the sands.
"Yes," she answered again about her growing hoard, laughter glimmering behind her words. "You never know when something might come in handy, right?" Most of the things had been given to her, or collected from beaches and coastlines. Other items might be more borrowed than given. Quills and scraps of parchment, a ribbon to tie the hair back with, or a small pocket knife; all tucked away to be returned later, and promptly forgotten.
Reaching down for something in the sand, Seren tumbled head over heel to fish up a book. After righting herself back into that lazy recline, she brushed a layer of fine dust away from the cover. An instruction on map-making; she flipped through the pages before letting it drop back onto the island.
"What kind of tricks do you have? Do you enjoy your magic?" Clearly she was enjoying hers; enveloped by it, drowning in it, swimming along on enchanted currents without a care in the world.
Seren
✰ 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.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
The Sword continued to wind his way around and along the dunes, eyes catching filaments, figments, fabrications of items collected. Perhaps she was like a crow, snagging at whatever caught her eye, and between the array of artifacts, debris or not, she’d surmounted a little haven of hoarding potential. “Do these items last in here? Or do they eventually fade away?” Was time indistinguishable, meaning and signifying nothing, or did it bombard just like the outside world? If he appeared to be calculating, his reticence and only the barest of smiles had no intentions of giving him away – eyes rounding back to her as she floated along, before snorting and traversing further upon paths.
“I do enjoy my magic.” No shame brandished from his words as he picked up a quill buried in the sand, placing it between his fingers, fiddling with it as it turned over and over in between the calloused digits. The monolith never had been repentant about the incantations cast within his blood and bone – sacred and archaic, arcane and everything; lineages passed down, arrays upon arrays of mustered, disastrous potential. “I have the elements, creation, and life drain.” Potentially other strands he’d yet to truly search – but those were the favored and savored ones.
If you're caught in the shadow then turn around If you hear my voice, follow the sound 'Cause I'm here to guide you home
Was he laughing at her? Seren looked down over herself where she floated about, but couldn't figure out what might be amusing. Did he want to bob around weightless too? There was an impulse to extend her gravity pulse, but Lena's terrified expression flashed before her eyes, and she thought better of it. Something told her that Deimos did not do well with surprises.
"They stay until I take them out," she answered in response to his curiosity, rather delighted at the multitude of questions. "Organic matter doesn't fare well, though... If I leave them here, they wither in a matter of minutes." A guilty glance was offered the many potted plants she had murdered in the process of figuring this out, before she looked away again.
"That's a lot! Which one is your favorite? What kind of things can you create? I bet this place would fill up really quickly if I had creation magic." Dropping down onto her own feet with a laugh, she bounced up to Deimos and fell in by his side, to accompany his exploration. As they walked, she occasionally reached up and tried to touch a shimmering star - but no matter how she jumped and waved at them, they remained just out of reach.
Seren
✰ 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.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
The organic matter insinuation, and a glance towards the decrepit plants, ceased the matter of machinations circulating through his mind. Perhaps the limitations scorched there – otherwise all manner of perspectives, situations, and angles could likely be exploited. But still, he pondered it, wondering if this was a solution they simply hadn’t ventured towards before. “And people? How many could stay within?” He arched his brow but gave relatively nothing away; those schisms of calculations piercing back over battlefields. Potential weak and wounded. Those lost and flailing, needing to be healed, out of the wake of brutal barbarity.
The beast didn’t glance to the stars, not yet, too far in the midst of possibilities in encountering these facets of exploration and incantations. She had her own barrage of questions, and he was forced to raise his head, arch his brow, and sever away from the contemplations, back into his own opinions and values. “Fire is my favorite.” Reminders of his father; nostalgic little pieces of worlds before he could carry within, proportions of destruction and life-giving parameters all in fell swoop. “I can create many things, though I have limitations in magical artifacts.” He shrugged his shoulders, piercing eyes flickering back along the not-quite horizon. “Most of the time I end up making weapons or armor for friends.” The occasional arms dealer; when the situation called for it.
If you're caught in the shadow then turn around If you hear my voice, follow the sound 'Cause I'm here to guide you home
Unaware that the General was making plans for her peaceful haven, the starchild cheerfully told him everything she knew about it. Happily entrusting her secrets to someone she was growing to like, silent brooding giant though he was.
"Only one other, besides myself. And if the thing I want to place here is very big, I need to go along with it. I suppose I could ask mother to change it for me, if I really wanted to... but I sort of like it this way. It's private, and mine." Just like every single item within; carefully selected and absorbed, valued and treasured, she did not want just anyone to be let in. To step on her seashells or sit on her clothes, or chase stars without her there to see if they could be caught.
"Hmm, I see. I think I like this place the best. But I use my gravity pulse more often; it's very useful." And fun; it let her bounce around as she pleased, unbound by the natural laws. "When was the last time you created something just to be beautiful? Weapons are nice too, but I can imagine it becomes a bit tedious to make the same kinds of things all the time." Seren hummed, a half-remembered sea shanty, and tried to think up what she would make if she had the ability. "Could you make a star that lights up in the dark? Or a flower that never wilts? Hm, maybe a music box... but I suppose you don't need magic for that."
Seren
✰ 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.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Understandable notions; and the beast left the remains of his Machiavellian fringes behind, not asking about the upcoming fruitions. Something for the back of his mind to contemplate and fathom, if and when everything became so much worse. He left a passing comment instead, a nod of his head, extending it outwards so that she might think about the benefits too – unaware of what lingered beyond, within the mound, underneath portions and pieces of sand. “It could be quite beneficial, especially when people are in need.” But it was hers; and would ultimately be up to her decisions, her wake, her regards, for whatever unraveled in the future. And for a private individual like himself, he understood the value of a haven, a shelter, a sanctuary. The Sword simply kept losing his.
Passing over another assortment of feathers, withered plants, and then some sea glass, his gaze rounded back to her as she described the clearly favored gravity pulse – floating along and beyond, with no need for wings. “Have you tested how far you can go?” A very childish and juvenile tendency perhaps, but the beast had strived immediately upon gaining his eagle shift, seeing how far, how quickly, he could soar through the air.
He didn’t expect the question to follow though; furrowing his brows briefly, head bowing slightly. “Most of my creations have a purpose.” They could be beautiful, adorned, neatly ornate, inscribed, detailed – but they’d rarely been brought forth or beckoned simply to exist. Once or twice for Amalia, probably, in all those selfless wakes, like necklaces with charms to remember friends, family, and loved ones by. But Deimos hadn’t done so since. “They are not always the same,” he defended, but it was with a slight lift of his cranium, a mocking derision.
And maybe he could conjure a star that lit up without its fellow constellations, a flower that never wilted, or a music box – but he couldn’t fathom the reason. “And what good would those items be?”
If you're caught in the shadow then turn around If you hear my voice, follow the sound 'Cause I'm here to guide you home
His suggestion gave her pause, and halted the juvenile selfishness of her thoughts. Hadn't she tried to extend this shelter to someone already? Too late, too little, her failure a buried reminder beneath piles of sand. The bones of a unicorn sacrificed to end her childhood all over again, and they would always remain here, to remind her. Perhaps gateways to elsewhere was not enough. Maybe a haven, a shelter, a secret island drifting among the stars could do more to aid the living than summoning starfire and the darkness between suns.
"I will think about it," she quietly decided, a thoughtful cast to the head.
A smile slowly grew into something mischievous at the notion of testing her limits. "It's been a while since last," she admitted. "Maybe you could help me test them again? When I'm not doing two spells at once," she added with a pearly laugh. Her affinity for manipulating her mother's gifts was great, but this was a big spell to maintain. The results would probably be better if she focused on only one blessing at a time.
She laughed again at the affronted defense of his weapons, cheerful and happy to see him jest - at least she thought he was. It was not always easy to tell. Deimos counter question made her stop quite abruptly however, and she turned to face him with eyes wide with surprise. "To bring joy," she answered, without hesitation. "To make the people who see them smile, and laugh, and marvel. Does a thing need more purpose than that?"
Seren
✰ 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.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
With the thought there, meant to reside and ponder over, Deimos said no more on the subject. A swift nod to indicate understanding, of the need to mull and contemplate, immersed, before swift strides continued to take him around the island.
He did manage a brief smile at her indication of testing, later, when not tethered to two incantations. The monolith had found the concentration and power difficult to maintain when orchestrating more than one as well, especially in the heat of the moment, in the pulse of battle. Often he’d have to prioritize, which left some defenses in the dust, others needing to take up the mantle, or him still managing to do it all while the rest of the world lingered on or watched. “Understandable. Later, then.” A shrug through the shoulders; an arch of his brow.
But the measures of other nuances, like joy, were far less easier for him to understand. Perhaps it was because he’d had so little of the emotion: like passing ships in the night. He was a being perfectly capable of mischief, of boyish elation, of hope and faith and merriment, but they were the first to go the second anguish and despair assaulted. And it did so often that they were carried off without much thought; while he sunk down into torment and torture, into self-loathing and sedition. The Sword had been working on it; on loosening the strands and tethers of those debacles, of overcoming places and people and fragments he’d lost over and over and over again, but each time it took more willpower. More strength, more fortitude, more might, to not linger below the surface and permit himself to drown.
His piercing gaze angled towards the stars instead, and he wondered if they were mocking him; out of reach. “Perhaps,” he answered at first, features flattening into something nonchalant; residual factors when he was at a loss. A snort followed through, striving to twist and turn it into a self-deprecating semblance, instead of the inward glances. “People have seemed content with their weapons and armor.”
If you're caught in the shadow then turn around If you hear my voice, follow the sound 'Cause I'm here to guide you home
A promise of 'later' meant they would have a reason to meet up again, and this simple thing was enough to make Seren hum a victory tune and smile with glee. She suddenly bounced upward, following Deimos glance at the stars, but still her reaching hands failed to catch one. It never kept her from trying; perhaps it was simply a matter of catching them off guard.
It was difficult not to laugh at the general as he continued to defend his creations. Her mouth kept twitching as she turned to give him a grave nod, and a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"I am sure they are lovely, Deimos. Don't worry, weapons and armor are wonderful presents, too." A little grim, perhaps, since they were mostly intended for war, but there were enough songs and legends spun around enchanted blades that the sentiment might be enough.
"I still can't decide what kind of weapons I want to master," she confided, since they were on the subject already. "I'm not bad with throwing daggers, and dad says a rapier might be fitting when it comes to swords... but I don't know how to tell what's right for me specifically."
Seren
✰ 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.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Quite right, they were wonderful gifts – and he permitted a taller stance, rather than shoulders bowed, head straightened out and not downward, glancing at the sand. He figured they were prosperous adornments, simply because they ensured his friends could protect and defend themselves – lest he be accused of becoming an overbearing or hovering monolith, a shadow in the background, threatening and ominous anytime they infiltrated danger.
The Sword watched the stars for a minute more, at the near, but distant array, uncertain how it all conformed and configured, before pondering over the wakes of armaments. “There is no limit.” A genuine smile flickered there, the soldier remaining firmly instilled in his blood – above and beyond all the other proportions that made up his rugged, serrated soul. “Trying out a variety usually helps. It depends on how you want to utilize them.” What felt right in between callouses; comfortable, easy to use, foundational, pieces and flickers of devastation. He couldn’t quite picture her throwing daggers, but didn’t say as much. “Bows are very useful, and there is always a need for long-range attacks.” He could always start listing out a variety of blade differentials, along with spears, knives, warhammers, and a bastion of others, but he’d wait it out.
If you're caught in the shadow then turn around If you hear my voice, follow the sound 'Cause I'm here to guide you home
The Sword's posture shifted under the praise, as if her reassurance was enough to breathe life into a flagging confidence. It made her think that he either was playing with her, or was way more sensitive about his 'art' than expected.
She gave up her teasing as the subject turned to weapon mastery. Seeing Deimos smile was still a rather new and startling experience, but a pleasant one. Seren shared his enthusiasm for the topic and eagerly launched herself into the conversation.
"Dad said so too. I should learn as much as I can about as many weapons as possible, so that I can at least defend against them. And he also said that ranged weapons are tricky to deal with, so I've been thinking that that's what I want." Leaning down to fish up a trinity of pebbles - all with interesting colors and shapes, as expected from her hoarded treasures - Seren began to juggle them as they walked and talked. She was quite deft at it, and could do little tricks to change the speed of the arches and the posture of her hands. "I haven't really tried the bow... what other options are there?"
Seren
✰ 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.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Weapons, of course, were his forte. Immediately, one palm coaxed and enticed a gilded formation, until some charcoal and parchment appeared within his grasp. Thereafter, upon her inquiry, and while she juggled (his attention wasn’t maintained on that for long), armaments and details within began to fly on the paper. Neatly and precisely sketched, the monolith began to announce and preside over them as they came to life; the familiar bounty of his knowledge and sagacity nearly a visible thing. “Swords and lances,” and he pointed to the serrated edges, the keen way in which there were several parameters and possibilities, depending on level of expertise and utility, including her aforementioned rapier. “Spears, axes, maces,” and his finger traced over these foundations too, with their multitude of varieties within staffs, war hammers, and bludgeons. “Crossbows and longbows,” which she’d likely be accustomed to.
Then he shifted to the smaller nuances. “Daggers, if you prefer very close combat,” and thereafter he included the throwing knives. Deimos opted not to include trebuchets or catapults, since those required significant movement, and weren’t handheld, but he did sketch some tinier slings. He passed the paper over, permitting her inspection and glances.
If you're caught in the shadow then turn around If you hear my voice, follow the sound 'Cause I'm here to guide you home
While she kept up her juggling, the sketches Deimos produced quickly stole away her attention. As much absorbed in watching the skillfull sketches as considering the weapons he outlined, it was not long before rocks thudded forgotten into the sand.
When the parchment was handed over to her, Seren accepted it eagerly. How peculiar, to think that the sheet hadn't existed a moment ago! Keen eyes quickly discarded ideas that required great physical strength. Maces and axes were impressive, but too far removed from her personality. Too blunt, too direct.
"You don't see crossbows that often," she commented. "Loading them is a bit of a hassle, so it's not as efficient as the longbow." Lessons and lectures repeated; she had been paying attention. "Lances are good while mounted, but a bit heavy for me, I think. Spears though... that's interesting."
Looking up, she smiled at the general. "They sort of offer the option for both offense and defense, right? Especially this type."
She held the paper out and pointed at a model that was a bit shorter, with a broad sword-like blade attached. Closer to a glave, or perhaps a naginata, it piqued her interest. Looking up, she cocked an eyebrow - subconsciously mirroring his own gesture - to see what he thought about it.
Seren
✰ 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.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Deimos wisely refrained from acknowledging crossbows; not adhering to the one he’d made Wessex for LongNight and the ensuing drama that followed. Instead, he continued to walk along, waiting patiently, while she discerned more of the details and outlines, shrugging his shoulders while she contemplated. For the amount of times he’d been in battle, he’d never relied heavily on lances or spears; the lance cumbersome for anyone, on horseback or otherwise, the spear a more relevant foundation, if one found a way to actively keep their weapon, rather than hurling it into an enemy and then being culled by another adversary.
When she eventually rounded over an armament to her liking, his piercing eyes glanced more at the paper. The polearm, with some variation on a quarterstaff, could be assembled depending on height and weight values, and did provide the potential to assault and catch. “Much like a glaive,” he pointed out once more, following the lines he’d made earlier. “You can utilize them as a staff and blade.” Not that swords couldn’t do much the same – as he frequently used them as a blocking and sieging device, but it also came with his modicum of strength, and the ability to push the steel back upon an opponent. Continuing on this trail of thought, he tilted his head, further study and perusal noted from his histories and legacies upon dais’ of war. “Some can be made with a hook here,” edging slightly away from the serrated edge, into another smaller, puncturing form.
