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 took time to find the shrine - for many years now, Mildew had only prayed in her own home at the altar she had made herself on a table, knowing that Fray would hear and not needing favours or responses to stay faithful. The Gods had more important things to do than comfort the petty concerns and worries of those limited to a life on Caido.
Recently however, as news of oncoming war continued to creep into the Feverlands and she met more Demi-Gods, all of whom seemed to have very close and consistent relationships with their Gods, Mildew had wondered if it would be prudent to meet with her herald for the first time in centuries. After a couple of weeks of rumination, she set off to the Oerwoud where she had heard there was a shrine, a basket of offerings tucked under her arm.
After a long walk and a while of wandering around within the tree-laden jungle, she finally found what seemed like the right spot given the description she'd had. Hiking up her skirt and holding the handle of the basket in her teeth, Mildew scaled the trunk, finally settling on a large branch by the marked out altar and putting the basket beside her. With a faint smile her fingers traced over the bark and she softly spoke: "Frey, my love, are you there? It's been ever so long and I thought I ought to come and say hello. It seems my life in the Feverlands is to become more complicated and I could use your guidance."
"Mildew, my sweetpea. It has been so very long indeed..." Frey seems to bloom within the shrine; humble it might be, the deity is nonetheless at home here. And they unfurl and disentangle from the vines and the branches as if they have been asleep there all along, as if the leaves and mosses are as much a part of their being as any blood or breath might be to others. "How are you, lovely one? How are the Feverlands?"
Before Mildew, despite the precarious nature of the shrine, Frey lolls and stretches out upon their back, tilting their head to eye her, upside down, and her basket of goodies. "Life does have a habit of bringing complications, doesn't it?" They pout. "Tell me everything."
A warm smile spread on Mildew's lips as she laid eyes on her deity for the first time in many, many years; Frey was still as captivating as she remembered, the way the God practically bloomed out of the tree beautiful and encapsulating all that they represented of the bounty and life of nature. "Oh, it's so lovely to see you." She said with a friendly wave of her hand, then put a finger to her chin as she considered the question. "I am well. In a period of change, but that is never a bad thing. The Feverlands is as wild and wonderful as ever."
That was always consistent in her life and something she was very glad for: the savage, raw beauty of the swamp would never change.
She got comfy herself too, hanging the basket on a sturdy enough branch and leaning back as much as she dared. "Well. Until now, I have to admit I've been disconnected from what's happening outside the Feverlands..but with all the new arrivals, I've learnt more. Of the 'Ascended' and what they've become...of a war they all seem to believe is on the horizon. There are 'Outlanders', people from entirely different worlds..." She shook her head softly and sighed, then looked back to her herald with a dry smile. "I suppose I'm just wondering what my place in all of this is...and yours, too. Are you going to be involved in this war, dear? It doesn't seem like your sort of thing, but then again, the Ascended are...well. Rather unnatural."
"Change is no bad thing," Frey agrees with a lazy smile. "All things must cycle, like the seasons and the weather. Else we would stagnate, no?" They wiggle their eyebrows at her which, from their current upside-down state, looks rather ridiculous. The expression turns into just as ridiculous a pout as war overtakes their conversation, as it is wont to do these days. Rolling onto their belly, Frey rests their chin on their forearms.
"It is difficult not to be involved, when this war runs the risk of ruining the very land we stand upon," they admit. "Your sister-in-arms, Phoebe, is working on the cause as well. We must ensure that there is space to grow and thrive and change when this is all over, no? Not only that, but our lands are hardly helpless. I think you know that more than most."
"Exactly. I'm not afraid of the changes." It had been exciting to see them all, really. How different people were now - and how similar too. How the same fights and problems sprung up in slightly new forms over and over in the years. She remembered when talk of the Voice had begun, when she'd just been some upstart mortal with big ideas. How stupid it had seemed. She had been so sure it would come to nothing.
Mildew was glad to see that Frey understood why she was concerned, though. Something that sought to pull life from Caido would quickly run into conflict with that which she was meant to protect. "Oh, I do. I am not scared for our world. I am sure that which made it and upkeep it will win. I just...would like to know how best I can help us reach that point." Swinging her legs and looking down at the ground below, she smiled. "I can handle most things that come my way on my own, nowadays. After all, I'm...quite old. But I still need your guidance on some matters. Do I involve myself with this war? Or is my role to stay out of it, provide relief to those that come to my swamp?"
Frey smiles kindly to Mildew as she speaks, letting their cheek loll on their arms, and for all the continuing talk of war, it's with a long, decadent sigh that they seem to relax. Flowers and vines are already creeping along the backs of their legs, and a mischievous smirk on their face suggests that it very much tickles. "Regrettably, I do not think you will be able to sit out of this, peach," they say, shifting at last to sit up.
"But to best ensure the land is protected, you may wish to concentrate your efforts on those who know it best. You have already met the Mathair, but there are three others. I would seek each of them out and see if they might also help contribute to the cause. Or at least how they might best go about defending their seasons."
"I suspected as much." Mildew answered with a smile, not all that worried; after multiple centuries alive, the war was less scary and more simply a bother to her. She would happily deal with it at the request of her patron.
The suggestion made was one she could take up. "Oh, yes. I could attempt to rally the seasonal Gods into a more organised unit...let's see. There's...Eirachi in Halo, right? I'm afraid the others aren't coming to mind right away. Where can I find them, and what should I say? Is there a plan?" Normally she wouldn't ask quite so many questions, but when it came to war, there needed to be agreed upon strategies. Mildew waited for the answer while tapping her fingers slowly on the branch she sat on, trying to think of the journey she would need to take.
"Mathair of the Greatwood is our lady of Leafchange. Eirachi, the Deepfrost goddess, resides in Halo. And the young Longheat god Tanau, he can be found in the Climb. I am afraid the last of our quartet is still making themselves scarce. Finding them, of course, is likely your first task in that arena." Frey works their fingers through the mosses beneath where they sit, rolling their shoulders in a languid shrug.
"Only what I have already told you. I would seek each of them out and see if they might help contribute to the cause - they could always say no, of course. Then petition as to how they would best defend their season, should they prove agreeable."
Mildew nodded along to the names, putting a finger to her chin at the thought of the lost Flowerbirth deity. There were a few places she could think of that seemed like desirable locations for such a God. "And how do I call out for them? Do you know their name or anything about them at all? Anything would help." Just so she had something to go on - though of course, for Frey, she was more than willing to wander around aimlessly for years.
"I'll speak to all of them. I like to think I have some skill for persuasion." She smirked and leaned back against the leaves on the branch, glad to find they held her weight if she was careful about where to put it. "I suppose that's all I needed, then...I know you are awfully busy, darling, so I wouldn't hold you too long."
Frey's brows furrow as if they are trying to remember, and they let out a sigh that rings of disappointment in themselves. "Names change with the centuries, sweetpea. But I would probably look out for things growing." They wink. "That is what Flowerbirth is all about, after all. I am sure if that season's deity is about, they will be making their presence known one way or another."
Smiling their bright agreement at Mildew's powers of persuasion, Frey rolls among the leaves and mosses that are beginning to overtake their form once more. "Busy, busy. Aren't we all, peach? Do call on me again, won't you? I have so missed our chats." For now, though, it isn't long before there's little left of the deity but the mossy branch they sprang from.
