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 is late in the night when they reach their destination: Torchline's Court of Stars. A grandiose name for a grandiose building, but not one Amalia can fault. Her own love of Safrin makes her love the building, stark and unnatural as it feels in the Port: manicured, marble, a transplant of Stormbreak more than the riotous chaos of Haulani. Still, she cannot help but shiver as she walks within its halls.
Or maybe that is simply because of the task that brings her hence.
Sam is with her, held by light, her brother bound and brought before her, a poisoner of war. But his crimes exist outside the shadow under which they stand, she reminds herself: he is a murderer, witnessed and confessed, and what she's doing is right.
It's right, she repeats on an endless loop. It's right. It's right. It's right.
Finally they reach a guard who has the good sense to look quite bemused by the Angel and her prey. He agrees to go in search of someone to whom Amalia might surrender her prisoner - the sooner the better, the girl thinks, anxiety a knot within her chest.
we drink the poison our mind pours for us and wonder why we feel so sick
Smother me with pillows and kindness, in which I have never seen
Please slit my perfect throat with the knife that I gave you
Sam went willingly; the binds were unnecessary. He was shy and compliant at the best of times, but especially by someone like Amalia, whose passion and anger scared his meek soul. In addition to her power, the halo on her head and the wings on her back...well, all he could do was take any spare moment in the walk over to make desperate prayers in his head to the Voice. She had to be able to hear him, he hoped.
The building they entered was almost comical in how Safrin-esque it was. The architecture said this is not a place for people like you, and Sam felt the message keenly.
Amalia told the guard what they were there for, in the cold and calculating voice of a unquestioning servant (or at least, that was the inflection Sam felt he could hear within it). As the guard stepped away to find the Queens, Sam stared down at his feet. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of begging or trying to run. He didn't quite intend to die, but he wasn't going to seem a coward either. There had to be another way.
Maybe the Queens would rule in his favour, though he doubted that. Maybe the Voice would save him. Maybe Wessex or another powerful Ascended would hear of it and come for him. Maybe he'd use his invisibility to sneak out during the night. Whatever way, he intended not to die here.
08-03-2021, 08:16 PM (This post was last modified: 08-03-2021, 08:17 PM by Maeve.)
Maeve
It is late. Very late. So late in fact that Maeve isn't even at the Court of Stars. She's home in bed, attempting to rest because no one ever talks about how tired being pregnant makes you, but there isn't any rest for her in the future. Not when a knock sounds on her door, requesting her at the Court to deal with a prisoner in the dead of night. So with a heavy sigh, the Nightshade rises, getting dressed before making the short trek with the guard at her side and Aidon trailing behind her.
The pair is escorted into a side room. Very little furniture is found in here, leaving their surroundings fairly stark aside from a fireplace that burns warmly, filling the room with a flickering orange light. Another guard lights the sconces, informing them both that Maeve will be along shortly to receive them and she arrives a few minutes later.
Her jade gaze flicks between the two that stand before her. One is a familiar face and the other is someone she's never seen before, but given the halo and wings, she has no doubt that she is a follower of the old gods. Maeve clears her throat, Aidon by her side, amber eyes glowing in the dim room. "Good evening... The guard said that you had a prisoner to bring before me?" She starts, unsure of how to proceed, but doing her best to carry a confidence through her words that she didn't entirely feel. Why on earth was Sam here? The man she met on the beach didn't seem capable of hurting a fly. Surely there was some kind of misunderstanding. Right?
Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do
Were she to picture a Queen of Torchline, the image would not be this- but then again, the same might be said of a government seat, or the cause of their meeting, or really anything else about this night.
They wait longer than Amalia would like, and by the time the woman brushes in (heavily pregnant, yet still with a poise the Angel could never think to emulate) the young paladin's nerve is fraying, pushed taut by silence and a myriad of doubts. She is standing still, her brother captive before her; and so she does not rise, but nods, her own flinty gaze seeking out the other woman's jade.
"Y... yes," the Archangel responds, voice breaking briefly before steeling again, spine straight as she wraps herself in the knowledge of her justice, the courage of her conviction. "My name is Amalia Chandrakant. This is Samuel Wordsworth of the Hollowed Grounds. He murdered an Attuned, James, on the shore of Torchline, before fleeing. I saw the aftermath and informed Sunjata of his crime, but..." She doesn't shrug, but the distaste is in her voice. Meeting Maeve's gaze squarely, Amalia sets her jaw. "I trust your sense of justice to be stronger than his."
we drink the poison our mind pours for us and wonder why we feel so sick
Smother me with pillows and kindness, in which I have never seen
Please slit my perfect throat with the knife that I gave you
Keeping quiet as Maeve entered the room, his eyes following her until she came before them (the pregnancy was a surprise, but he had much graver concerns for the moment), Sam waited for Amalia to speak first. The crack in her voice as she began spoke to possible doubt in her actions, which was interesting, but he knew better than to count on that for the time being.
Once she'd said what she had to say, he lifted his head to meet Maeve's eyes entirely and spoke himself: "I ask that you listen to my side of the story too. Amalia was not there that night and she is-" Sam looked back to his sister, her halo and wings; she still intimidated him, but there was a war to fight and he couldn't let himself be so easily scared by a costume. "-To say the least, very biased against the Ascended."
She knew Sam and she knew of Amalia, but never had the opprotunity to meet the latter. This was not exactly how she imagined said meeting to happen, but they were here. Maeve was quiet for a long moment, listening first to Amalia and then to Sam, jade eyes flicking between both of them as she did her best to keep her expression neutral. "I see..." It was the only thing she said at first, slowly walking towards one of the only chairs in the room, lowering herself gingerly into the chair. "Forgive me. I'm rather far along and it's beginning to strain my back." The Nightshade offered by way of explanation, realizing that it likely gave a bad impression, but there wasn't anything to be done for it.
"There will be a proper investigation and questioning. I wasn't aware of such events and despite Torchline being a rather lawless place, I plan to handle things fairly. Murder isn't an accusation to take lightly and I won't convict anyone without a proper investigation." Maeve finally said, looking between the two before finally settling on Sam, "You will be held for the time being and I ask that you cooperate, Sam. I would prefer not to hold you against your will, but I need to get to the bottom of this."
After a few breaths, she pushed up from the chair, wincing slightly as her back twinges. Maeve presses a hand to the small of it, moving closer to Amalia and Sam alike, "Thank you, Amalia. I will take this very seriously and get to the bottom of it."
Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do
