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!
06-22-2021, 06:30 PM (This post was last modified: 06-22-2021, 07:10 PM by Safrin.)
Isla brings her items to the shrine at the dead of night, when most others have long gone home to sleep. There is still something strange about coming to this shrine, the one where any and all gods might answer, but she does her best to keep it out of her mind. It is closest to the Infirmary, and she isn't keen to leave it where it might burn down.
On the altar, Isla places the seaglass infused by lightning, and the bottle of melted ice from the Sea of Glass. "It is done, great lady," she murmurs softly, stepping back and bowing her head. There is something that churns in the pit of her stomach, something that stems from the things she has heard from Wessex, and she has a feeling that this conversation will not be as straightforward as she hopes.
Isla has completed her requirements from hammer pulse
The Voice doesn't like this place either. The blood of all those killed in service of the heralds stains the pews and the walls, even though its long been washed away. She can still see it. Can still taste copper and feel the sticky slickness of lives being cut short. Even so, the Voice's blue stare is vibrant and fixed wholly on the medic before her.
"I do not need to do a scan of your thoughts to know that there is something on your mind, Isla." The Voice notes pragmatically.
The appearance of the Voice always fills Isla with a sense of warmth, of passionate understanding found only in the halls of great libraries and colleagues with minds as challenging as her own. She finds herself smiling despite the weight in the pit of her stomach, and as her goddess speaks she releases a long sigh, as if given permission to give voice to her thoughts.
"I believe what is on my mind is the same as what is on everyone's mind these days," she admits with a sad smile. "War. But something Wessex said to me... I cannot shake it off. She mentioned Remi's weakness, that I could kill him. And I worry that I will be expected to do things that I am not capable of doing. Efficient as we might be, we are not soulless machines..."
The Voice nods, her eyes flashing with understanding as Isla speaks her mind. "Not capable of doing?" The goddess tilts her head ever so slightly to the side. "Or something that you don't want to do?" The clarification is offered gently, without judgement. "There are many things in war we think are not capable of doing. This is not your first war, so you already know what some of those things are. But, we learn that when the lives of many are at risk, we find ourselves able to do things we thought we couldn't."
Smiling, the Voice folds her hands in her lap where static sparks begin to grow between her fingers. "That is very true. We are not soulless nor machines, and I would never have you take any decision of this magnitude lightly. But tell me Isla, if the math were simple, if Remi's life could be guaranteed to pay for the lives of every ascended, would you be capable of taking it then?"
Hundreds of lives, spared. No man, no love, counted for that much.
Isla's eyes drop to her feet again, and she nods, however reluctant the admission. "Something I do not wish to do," she confirms softly. And then the Voice does what Isla fears she would - she lays it out with logic and precision, stacking one life against hundreds, and the medic feels the prickle of tears in her eyes. They spill over, rolling down her cheeks, and she doesn't try to wipe them away.
"If it was a guarantee? If there was no doubt at all? I might be capable," she whispers, the admission sounding loud regardless, "but I would end my life at the same time, if that were the only solution. I know I could not live with myself - better that two lives end rather than hundreds."
Reaching out her hands, the Voice raises Isla's chin with one of her fingers. She doesn't wipe away the medic's tears, but allows for the shiny fluid to drip onto her hand. " What would you not be able to live with?" She asks earnestly. "If the math alone would not soothe your sense of conscience, just think of how worse off our family would be without you. Without your mind, your skills, your heart.
Would putting the lives of our family ahead of your own, doing something unimaginably hard for the greater good, truly be more than you could bare?"
Her fingers are like liquid lightning, the touch shooting across Isla's sensors like something more alive than she will ever be. Looking up at her goddess, she tries and fails for a smile, as if not being able to shoulder the weight of what the Voice asks is as shameful as it is true. "Perhaps it if were anyone else, I could," she murmurs. "But not Remi. We were closer than lovers, once."
And even now after all that has happened and all the war that looms in the vague middle distance, she can't shake that feeling. "Besides" she murmurs, "it would only be if it was a guarantee. And it isn't." It would never be a guarantee, that the life of the Lullaby would ensure that not one Ascended would die.
06-23-2021, 05:56 PM (This post was last modified: 06-23-2021, 06:04 PM by the VOICE.)
'Once.' The Voice agrees. "But not because you chose it. You were fit against his thoughts, unable to be anything but close. He let you fade. For season and seasons you were a whisp of what you once were. Tell me, what love would allow for such a thing?" The Voice gives her head a small shake. "The Lullaby has only ever given you death, Isla." Twice. "I have given you life." Twice.
Sitting up, the Voice nods quite matter-of-factly. "You're quite right. I only meant to show you that you are capable, should the scales balance themselves properly." If love was all that stood in the way, such was an easy thing to fix.
Reaching into her lap where a ball of lightning has been softly sizzling, the Voice stretches the electricity out into a smooth cylinder. Using the items brought to her, she fashions what looks like a silver tube with sea glass lodged in one end. "Here—" Holding it out for Isla to inspect, the ascended will find the item is remarkably light, but strong.
Isla has received
IntraLight | (Basic) What resembles a pen-light when held by an ascended, gives the holder access to the internal scans of any ascended it shines upon. It allows the user to diagnose physical ailments with pinpoint accuracy (can determine HP, and lost HP).
Her lips part to argue, but of course Isla can't say a word against points made so succinctly, laid bare against her feelings in a way that risks cutting them to ribbons. But Remi knows all of that, she wants to say. He knows and he feels guilty enough about it. But it's useless, and she wisely chooses silence, finally reaching up to wipe at her eyes. "Yes, you have," she agrees, nodding and inhaling a breath she doesn't need as if to steady herself. "It isn't a gift I ought to waste."
And since they are only speaking in hypotheticals, she straightens up and does her best to let the discussion go as the Voice fashions the item for her. "Oh - thank you so much," she murmurs, accepting the Intralight as if it is something to be revered - and it is, when it comes from her goddess.
"I told Wessex that fighting isn't my forte. But that doesn't mean I won't help efforts, if and when needed. Is there anything I might be able to do to to protect the other Ascended?"
Isla is cashing in her levelling reward to receive a quest for an upgrade!
"I should hope not. You are made for bigger and brighter things, Isla Lockwood. Don't be controlled by your past." If the Voice had to sacrifice Isla to remove one of the Old God's most powerful pawns, she would do so. But Isla was useful to her in many, many ways such that the decision would not be made lightly.
It would be made though, one way or another.
'Many things.' The Voice nods. "You might...shield them in the heat of battle. Could move them from place to place to evade attacks...You could heal them faster...?" Tilting her head, the goddess pauses to see which, if any of these suggestions, might spark interest in the medic.
With the advice given and solemnly taken on board, Isla straightens up properly that she might listen to her goddess and the options given. Her brow furrows - the idea of shielding is admittedly an interesting one, but she has been thus unaware that any could heal apart from Azrael. Brightening, she gazes up at the Voice and absently slips the Intralight into one of her pockets.
"I could enable them to heal more quickly from their wounds?" she wonders. "Or heal them at all? That would be... wonderful, if it is possible. What would I need to do?" Remi is suddenly forgotten; the pursuit of knowledge and the ability to help others has her full attention, now.
'Despite your medical knowledge, healing the ascended will not be like what you have done in the past. It is not a matter of clotting blood or setting wounds, but tapping into our processing system and altering where the flow of energy should be directed." Such was not an easy task.
'You will need to learn more about ascended systems. I know you have already performed more than one surgery, but this will need to be more focused. Perform a craniotomy on one of your fellow ascended and learn what you can. Also, learn about the different types of our family directly that you might understand their needs, when they are injured."
Isla must
1. Perform a craniotomy
2. Thread with all the 'types' of ascended: demigod (created), demigod (born), ascended (hybrid), and ascended (regular), and see how they react to injuries.
Like a child, Isla's pebble blues grow wide to hear that this is possible, the medic hanging on every word the Voice delivers. She nods gently, her mind already whirring with ideas and instances where she might be able to fulfil the requirements asked of her. "A craniotomy," she whispers, never having performed one unless it was on someone already deceased. To be able to watch the mind work, to speak with her patient as she does her research...
With a bright, fanged smile, she nods. "I will see it done. Thank you, goddess. I can't tell you how much this means..." Allowing herself a moment for replenishment from the Voice once she has noted down all of her tasks, Isla will head back out into the night with a renewed sense of purpose.
