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 an impulse, to come out here. The view Seren had been offered of the Climb from the safety of her father's nimbus cloud had left her with the impression that the place was not as menacing as it was rumored to be, and that exploring it might be a fun way to let off some steam. Much needed, in her case, after the tensions that had racked up during the conversation with Morgan. In the end, she had done very little there, and frustration made her impulsive.
Not... so much that she went alone, though. There were limits to stupidity, and the encounter with that random Ursur had left her keenly aware that Caido was not a petting zoo.
"Have you ever been here before?" she asked, and turned to look at Deimos from over the cloth mask. Tied around her face to keep out ash and the worst of the fumes, it muffled her voice slightly, and made the blue eyes seem all the bigger and more excited over the rim.
High overhead, Umbra was soaring on the warm winds, wings barely moving. Every once in a while she was fed a view of the landscape from his vantage point, and so far it looked empty. Deserted, save for some curious wriggling specks converged in a dale up ahead.
Battle born they send us Covered in our noble blood
✰ 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.
Straight-shouldered, spine taut, tall and unyielding, despite the war going on in his mind, the manifestations of broken, embittered, caustic things, the Sword tried not to show it. Not in his strong gait, the sweeping stride, not in the wake of put-away furs, from the moment they stepped away from tundras and into the Climb’s warm expanse, not in the roll of movement and motion that echoed well beyond, in leagues of his parallels and deceits, triumphs and failures. He could feel it all burning around him, inward and pulling, pulling, pulling in the spirals of bones and veins, flesh, sinew, marrow; until he was just a flawed beast, mortal and mortal still.
“Yes,” Deimos answered Seren through the area – his eyes not going to her, but instead of the burnt, acrid surroundings; churning some Air incantations to pulse the smoke away from their lungs. “When we were sick and trying to find a cure,” but there would’ve been nothing of the lilies here. His soul should’ve been moved by the figments of magma, the solidified forms of lava, the maelstroms of fire and vitriol, but not now. Not when clarity seemed too daunting and the brush of the world too expansive. “Just not this portion.” His gaze went to Umbra briefly, flying and scouting overhead; Belial and Zuriel had stayed behind, at home, in front of hearths and unsettled dreams. “Have you?”
Ah, yes. The sickness. The reason why she had been plucked back to the stars, until it was well and truly erased. Seren nodded and pulled the mask down from her face, stifled by the clinging heat of her own breath.
"Did you catch it too, then?" she asked curiously. "I wanted to help so badly... not that there was anything I could have done." Others had hands far more capable than her own.
"Dad brought me here not too long ago. Very briefly, to do some stargazing. I think it might look better from above, honestly." The glowing lava crisscrossing the landscape had been a stunning sight in the dark.
Still, they were here now, and if she didn't stray too far from Deimos it was no trouble breathing. The solid river of stone fascinated Seren, and she kept stopping along the way to pick up pieces of rock twisted in curious shapes. Occasionally she popped one away into her pocket space, because why not.
"How are you holding up? You've been very quiet since Morgan left." The question was off-hand and casual. Where she had expected triumph and relief over a successfully completed mission, there was only... well. Not nothing, but... A prickling sense of something brewing beneath the surface, perhaps. Something bottled up, threatening to blow. Maybe it was the landscape, but Seren kept thinking of the tremouring earth as Apopo erupted.
Maybe she was just imagining things.
Battle born they send us Covered in our noble blood
✰ 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.
Ash and smoke, fire and blood, dredged in the way his father might have manifested himself all those ages ago. Lifetimes upon lifetimes, bending and swaying between his eyes, until fragments of ghosts were nothing more than a haze, and he still had to live in this circle, in this realm, of his own making. Only after he’d stared into flames for much too long did his gaze rest back upon Seren, a nod for the way things had been a year ago. “Yes.” A furrowed brow, narrowed eyes, pinpointed elsewhere; on the ground, on the magma floor, on the adornments of dragon wings above. “We were out of our minds.” A pause, a breath, steady and certain, when everything else wasn’t. “Water from the Frey’s Breath held it off, until we found enough of Rae’s lilies to put behind the falls. To release Tanau, and be cured.” Maybe Seren could’ve helped – but there’d been enough of them tracking, pursuing; and there was no doubt her mother wouldn’t have permitted it – not after Safrin had been nettled with the blight. “The Voice offered one as well, but I did not take it.” A cheeky grin appeared, quickly, swiftly, before it rearranged into stoicism. The Sword had preferred to fight off a guardian of the halls, rather than bow his head to that individual.
Stargazing seemed far more fleeting, but calming, serene, than lingering within this threshold of impending damnation. “I would not doubt it,” as he glanced upwards again, within the echoing chambers, releasing more Air to push back the threatening smog and smoke.
He followed after her trail of stone-pocketing, making no move to do the same; entranced by embers, by coals, by stoking paths. The only thing that gave him pause was her inquiry, and a series of jaw clenching maneuvers strung together in silence – placing a self-deprecating joke in before anything else. “I am always quiet.” The smile remained in the corner of his mouth, despite its inclination to wither and decay again. The truth bound away on that same fortitude though; not a reverberation, but something altogether hushed. “Nothing feels right.” The sentiments in his chest, the maelstroms conducted in invisible dominions, the constant turbulence. He’d lived in warframes long before this; but to exist in it again still set him on edge. “And it was the first I had heard the Voice was willing to turn her own.” To take control. To truly maneuver tethers and lines into her appeals and necessities; an all he could think about was Kiada. His stare managed to center back to the demigod, another sigh coming behind machinations. “What about you?”
Picking her way over uneven ground, walking lightly where the rock still smoked and smoldered, Seren leaned in to admire a patch of sulphur crystals while she listened. It looked like she wasn't paying attention, but every word offered was absorbed and considered, much like her rocks.
"It was a nasty thing, the blight," she hummed, in sympathetic acknowledgement of the plight he had suffered. "Would you meet Tanau again, if you could? Now that circumstances are better." She was curious about the seasonal gods, no doubt about it.
Casting a glance up at Umbra, Seren turned her attention properly on Deimos when the lid on his thoughts was cracked open. Just a smidge, and far easier than last time. It moved her, to realize that she might be earning some measure of trust.
"What do you mean, by 'not right?'" she asked gently, hoping he might elaborate. Certainly with war and threats and unrest in the world, it was becoming hard to see the silver linings.
As for the Voice and her abilities... Seren hunched down and turned a rock over, to find a pool of glowing lava beneath. Or was it? The thing quickly bled away, mercury slick and disinterested in her attempts to follow. "I... after I used the portal to get home, mother scolded me," she revealed. "She said that the Voice can learn things about people who pass through, and that she might grow strong enough to control them. One day. I... was not aware that she could already do that to her own." Or could she? Seren wasn't sure, only knew that it unsettled her to think about.
Then her question was reflected back on herself, and the girl gave Deimos a tight lipped smile. "I've been better," she admitted. "It's quite overwhelming, to go from utter peace and calm to this beautiful chaos." An expansive gesture indicated the surroundings, the landscape - Deimos himself representing the people she met. Night trailed in the wake of her hand, and managed to startle her into a flinch. She tucked the hands away, as if that might make the fantastical phenomenon go away. "I used to be so calm and sure about how the world worked. Mother's words was all I had and all I needed, but now... I hear people talk, and offer their views, and it's like I'm slowly drowning in a torrent of voices. Sometimes I can't hear myself anymore, or mother."
Doubt, it was called. Uncertainty and doubt, and the immense pressure to make choices that would effect lives beyond anything she had the ability or experience to comprehend.
Battle born they send us Covered in our noble blood
✰ 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.
It’d been more than that though, beyond the blight’s parameters, feeding into Ascended too. Which always perplexed and baffled him in a way; the inexplicable, the unexplained conduits hastening it all together. The Sword had suspected the Voice’s influence in the disease right from the beginning, due to prior blights, but would she have committed such acts upon her own people? Was it another reflection of things like LongNight? “As far as I am aware, we still do not know the cause.” Unless there’d been other reaches and pulls, segments unspoken. He glanced at the smoke unfurling from some ethers, watching it tilt and lilt, the uncertainty all the more clear in the arch of his brow. “I do not know. Nor what I would say.” Not an individual to burst onto the scene of deities and heralds unless situations called for it; and his latest experiences with seasonal gods left trepidation trailing. “The Mathair tried to eat us.” A shrug of his shoulders followed, along with a melded sigh.
As far as elaboration, he wasn’t certain he could even describe the unsettling accord situated in his soul. Guilt? Knowing what they were doing was right and just, and still feeling it claw down his insides? “Turbulent. Unstable.” He shook his head, pilfering another breath from the world – clear despite the smog and dregs of magma pooling, cooling. “It has been a long time since any of that weighed on me.” Or any part of the world he cherished and strived to protect. “It is unsettling.” Even for a being who’d been pressed into chaos, awakened on bloodshed and vehemence, the tempestuous eaves still pulled and tugged, found their niches in the cracks of walls and rubble.
On whims and restlessness, his enchantments towards fire inclined, listening all the while at the descriptions of scolding, of portals they’d need to watch out for as well. Some of the lava flowed neatly into the air, and then back down again, making a simple arc while the trepidation warred at his bones. “We should have known.” His jaw clenched, frustration curling into his efforts. How many people had used them? How many lives did that make?
The Sword’s gaze shifted away from the stretches of maelstroms and back to her, the notion of being better, of peace feeling so damned foreign. “And we may not have it again for some time.” So they had to make the most out of the wakes – except the notions seemed strained and difficult for the moment. “We all used to have that same resolve. When things were simpler, easier. Now we are not so ignorant, and the more that is revealed…” he paused, brows furrowing again, the lava left to its own devices. “It all becomes more difficult.”
Sky-blue eyes widened with surprise at the mention of the Mathair. "You've met her? She's still alive then? That's... how did you convince her not to?" For all the horror of the revelation, Seren had to struggle to keep back the snicker. A little macabre, sure, but the image of the stoic Sword talking frantically to escape the jaws of a goddess wouldn't be shaken.
Gallows humor, it must be. The situation and the multitude of problems arising all around them was certainly nothing to laugh at. Still, as she stood up Seren wanted to just inhale as deep as she could and scream at the desolate wasteland around them. Scream until her lungs caved, until the throat split open and all the darkness was finally spewed out, so that only light and peace remained. That this steadfast, stalwart brick wall of a man did not have any comfort to offer her was just not fair. He was the grown up, the one supposed to have his shit together. And if he didn't? How could she possibly do it?
And still there was more to come. Because Seren couldn't keep things hidden longer, or she would burst from it. But Deimos... what could he do? Already burdened, already with too much to carry. Nor could he actually do anything to help, becase the core of her issue lay in a city from which he was barred.
Not the right person, perhaps. Not today.
"Hey... want to blow off some steam?" she asked, and swallowed down the urge to confess and confide. Not today. "Umbra says there's a valley full of vampire gourds up ahead. We could... eh... cull them? Before they can enter Halo."
Perhaps the gleam in her eyes was a little savage, a little too dark for a starling, but who cared. Seren ached to do something, and smashing pumpkins was a relatively harmless pastime.
Battle born they send us Covered in our noble blood
✰ 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.
He did manage a muffled laugh at the inquiries pinpointing directly to the Mathair; because the whole situation, looking back on it, had been humorous and ridiculous, even in the dangerous plumes. “She is back in the Greatwood.” Where she was meant to be. With a wry grin, not riveted anywhere other than the ceiling he stared upon, he snorted at the mental images coasting through. “She thought about eating Remi and I. Said your father was too stringy.” A shrug, for a pitch of humor. “Summoned a flock of gore crows and that seemed to satisfy her instead.” His hands came together briefly, to resemble a snake, and then widened as if they were a jaw unhinged – devouring everything in sight.
The Sword probably wanted to scream too – but had never been the kind that unleashed the pent-up volition; other than in vehemence and violence, and none of that was to be found here. He didn’t have all the answers; wouldn’t ever believe that he did. Each step within Caido was a newfound one, seemingly drawn out of myths and legends they were still trying to learn at every turn.
So the suggestion made him turn, pivoting away from magma flows, a brow arched, a snort billowing through. The savagery in her eyes was altogether different, but he wouldn’t begrudge her the moment of anything but a general surprise; not when there were so many piercing, vehement chords in his own soul. “Sure.” A grin – not menacing, but very juvenile wrapped its way around his mouth; boyish calamity when potential violence was at hand. “Strange they came this far though. I thought they only stayed within the Grounds.”
Her father was stringy? Well. Seren supposed it was a good thing, if it kept him from being viewed as a morsel by a goddess. That Remi had been in danger too only made the situation more hilarious, and before long she couldn't hold back the mirth anymore. Terrifying as Deimos' demonstration of disjoined jaws gulping down crows were, it was comical too and the girl laughed, a bright and cheerful sound that reverberated across the devastation of the landscape.
"I'm glad you're alright. That she's back in the Greatwood, too - I bet the Fae will be happy."
Still snickering, Seren pointed the way towards the vale Umbra had indicated. It was a bit of a hike, but it gave the young soldier ample time to set her mind on this. The General's boyish grin certainly helped her feel like this was the thing to do, and by the time they scaled a crest and could look down at the vale below and the rolling, tumbling pumpkin patch below her hands were aching for action.
"Lend me a weapon?" she asked, and flashed a grin at her friend. He had been bragging about how good he was at making them... perhaps he might demonstrate now? Meanwhile, Seren summoned the star-wolves again, and watched them coalesce into condensed stardust and light by her side with a distant sort of affection. They were quickly becoming something of a signature for her... perhaps not the wisest thing, but comforting.
Battle born they send us Covered in our noble blood
✰ 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.
Only amongst friends did Deimos ever seem to inspire much humor in others; so he tilted his head, vaguely, in her direction at the bright and cheerful jubilation – snorted and permitted another loud round of his own laughter, before it edged away. Curling and recoiling amongst the ashes, smoke, and smog; short-lived in the reaches of these voids. “Which means there is just one left.” An inquiry as much as a statement on the seasonal gods – and the reaches, the possibilities, of where it resided. What it meant, once they were all returned to their sanctions and sectors.
Then his eyes followed her directions, shifting across the wake, air extending to brush away the plumes of ash, stride long and unwinding, steady and certain. Not diminished or bothered by the amount of movement needed, made of plenty of endurance, fortitude, might, and training, the beast continued on, inspecting, exploring, scrutinizing, until they managed to come along the knoll, and the glorified state of the pumpkins. Another snort unfurled from the General; but mostly because it brought back memory after memory. He hadn’t seen any in quite some time; and to witness the tumbling, gnashing, fanged creatures almost made him laugh again. “We should save some for baking,” he commented; perpetually a sweet tooth. Not that he wouldn’t mind decimating quite a few in the process.
At her comment he rolled his eyes – watching the star wolves appear – before looking down at her. “Did you decide on what you wanted to use?” He wouldn’t make a weapon that wouldn’t have any need or purpose after these moments.
How delightful the laughter of a man who rarely smiled. It felt the equivalent of a surprise gift, and Seren relished the lingering glow as they stalked across the landscape, on the prowl for distractions. As he mentioned the last missing god, the young woman hummed thoughtfully.
"I've been thinking about that," she confided, without turning her attention from the treacherous path. "What if the thing Mother wants us to uncover under the Sea of Glass is the Leafchange god? I'm sure they would be ancient and possessing much knowledge... not to mention lost for a long time." And it had a certain poetic ring to it, that the spirit of new beginnings would be buried beneath ice, trapped in darkness of the one divinity that never changed. Stagnation and rebirth... It was sort of romantic. "And if not that, then perhaps there might be a clue about the Relics. Worth looking into, don't you think?" If she was worried that he might be having second thoughts about joining her little expedition, Seren did a good job of suppressing it. Only the slight worrying of teeth against a lip suggested she was not so sure about herself as she liked to pretend.
Turning focus towards pumpkins and gourds, she framed her eyes with the hands to scout a way down into the vale. Deimos question - which weapon? - made her pause. Had she decided? Well... yes and no. "I've found that I enjoy some extra reach," she told him, thinking back on past spars. Her game if 'tag' with Amalia, the wrestling match with Sah... though the last one she quickly shunted aside, before remembering the aftermath made her start blushing again. "Keeping things at a distance... So. A bow, and one of those long spears with the curved blades, for when things come too close." Considering her stature and relative lack of brute strength, polearms made a lot of sense.
Glancing up at the General, there was a curious expression on her face. She had been thinking of something very simple, like a plain wooden staff... but perhaps he was not?
Battle born they send us Covered in our noble blood
✰ 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.
Would the last god be under ice? A series of motions flickered over his face; all contemplative reaches, with the normal furrowed brows and the tilt of his head, a slight wrinkle to his nose in the continued boyish factions. Or the relics themselves, mentioned at the gathering. “Ah, you heard the announcement then?” There’d been too many within the crowd for him to pick out and sparse through, not when his attention had been solely deviated upon intangible voices and predilections of timeframes. On war itself. “Agreed.” A nod followed to solidify the response, the rumble of his voice reverberating, but not quite echoing, against the smoggy space. “Worth a shot at least. And even if it is not any of those things, treasure still holds some value.” The lightest of snickers contorted, and then he carried on; completely unaware of Seren’s misgivings, since he held and stuck to his promises.
As for weaponry, the Sword was quiet and methodical again, listening to the potentials. Range was always a welcome addition, especially given the variety of creatures they came across – both monster and human. “A bow to start then,” simpler, and she could snag some practice within these walls with little strain or risk.
Within a matter of moments, his palms were a gilded sanction, age-old and inherent, timeless and golden, magic spiraling between his hands and fingers with little effort – the imagined incantations billowing and building, until their brimming conjectures framed the manifested armament. The weapon took place, followed by a matching quiver set complete with arrows; little stars curved on the handle, on the top of the string. He handed them all over with little fanfare, and plucked at more incantations again. “I can lift them into the air, if you would like to shoot at them.” The grin returning wasn’t savage or menacing – but definitely something regarded in mischief, before the enchantments swarmed, intending to grasp hold of several gourds down below.
They shrieked, grumbled, and hissed, but were no danger to them at these heights – and he maneuvered them around as they squawked and bit at nothing.
"Yeah, I heard it. Eight seasons... It sounds too long, and not very long at all, doesn't it." Less than two years, if they were lucky. For Seren, a season was an eternity, but when looking back at all the things she had done, and not accomplished in the span of Longheat, her stomach knotted painfully. So much to learn, so many things to do still... It was not enough.
At least one thing was progressing steadily however. It was gratifying to hear that Deimos had not changed his mind, and she smiled back at him, returning musings about treasure and adventure with eager anticipation. "I might have an idea for another person to come along... as soon as I've talked to them, and sorted things out with dad and your new Wardens, we'll be good to go. Sometime this season, I hope." Or she would have to wait a very long time, which... was not ideal.
As golden light shimmered and twisted between the man's hands, Seren turned away from doomed plants and watched. Wonder and delight softened the blue in her eyes into something warm; the weapon he created was lovely, and even more so the magic he wielded with such ease. Almost reverently the starborn girl accepted the gift, and let her hands run over the smooth surface of handle and limbs to get a feel for the bow. Her bow, now.
"It's beautiful," she murmured, speaking around a sudden lump in the throat as fingertips brushed over small stars inlaid into pale wood. "Thank you."
Slinging the quiver across her shoulders, Seren drew an arrow and knocked it to the string. The pull of the bow was supple and smooth, as if warmed by sunshine and good oil; easy to ply, easier still to loose. The first arrow from a new weapon should have gone astray, by common logic. Unfamiliar, unknown - yet by some luck hers found its target like it had been meant to be there all along. A baffled laugh slipped from her - then she reached for another arrow, and sent her wolves down into the gorge to chomp and gnash and wage their own war against any who tried to approach the star-touched slayers on the hill.
"Oh, this is fun," she laughed. "Are they... really edible?"
Battle born they send us Covered in our noble blood
✰ 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.
“For all the things we need to accomplish? Not long enough.” Finding relics, before the Ascended did. Puzzling them out. Figuring out what needed to be done. Defenses. Protections. An installation of ways and methods and flanking regions; discovering where everyone stood, and striving to get them to a point where they would survive. He couldn’t even think of the aftermath; not yet. “But at least we have a timeframe.” Which was better than just the looming horizon staring back at them – counting down the days, the hours, the minutes left. His jaw clenched, and another breath unfurled, long and slow, maintaining the semblance of calm they wandered within.
Drifting his sight back to Seren, he indulged in his habitual predator mannerism, a head tilt, studying, pondering. “Who were you thinking of?” The way she said something contorted through his Machiavellian mind, and his eyes narrowed briefly; perhaps it was only a justification of her upcoming measures, a courtesy, an announcement intended to appease the newfound Wardens – not that he wouldn’t be keeping them up to speed. “Would Ru and Noah take issue with this person?”
A snort rumbled from chest and nares as she reverently studied the bow. Content with the response, he nodded once more. “You are welcome,” before his glance went to her stance, to the ease in which she drew the string. She must have been practicing in Stormbreak, as it volleyed and rallied easily through the haze of smoke and fumes, decimating the gourd, and Deimos permitted it to float for a moment in some disastrous, comical folly, before releasing it to smack against the ground, splitting open. The star-wolves, though not tangible figments, seemed to enjoy their meal as well.
“Yes. We have used them before.” Before, before, before; a word with too many complexities driven into it. Better to form potential, rather than root himself in the past – forward motions, looking ahead. “Cookies. Muffins. Bread. Soup.” He could keep going, another light laugh billowing; and then by some way of amusements, began to spin several of the gourds who’d not yet fallen like their brethren – angrily fuming, vines dangling, so they ended up in some bright, orange, eerie circle, rotating around and around.
