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!
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
Before heading to the shrine, Wessex takes a quick pit stop to collect the icicles that are needed for Eirachi’s shrine. Slamming her fists into the long, crystal teeth at the mouth of a nearby cave, she catches a few (and misses more than one), carefully placing them into a pack and leaving it outside the shrine.
Today she’s alone; no companion and no fence-sitting Outlanders are here to distract or temper her words. Failure lays heavy and dark on her lips. The flavor is new and mixes well with the demigod’s now familiar frustration and worry. Taking a moment to read again the words Bastien wrote for this hallowed place, Wessex sighs and repeats the first part in a small act of uncommon piety. “Mother of the Light, may you remain as a spirit of wisdom within my heart. Be present for me now and in every moment of eternity.”
She knows she doesn't need to say anything of the sort for her Lady to appear, but perhaps the demigod needs to reinforce her own feelings about the Goddess.
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Blue light fills the interior of the cave, warming it at least visually; it isn't as though Wessex will mind the cold. The Voice appears, and if the Wraith expects to see disappointment on her sterile and porcelain features, she will find such an emotion lacking. 'Hello my brightest one.' Tendrils of electricity extend from her fingertips, brushing against Wessex's cheek that the Voice might pull her attention up.
"Despite what happened by the Sea of Glass....I am very proud of the cleverness you and the rest of our family showed." That Ronin and Remi were growing to be impossible obstacles was not the Wraith's fault. "Seeking the aid of the Eirachi...placing our kin in such a way as to trick the others...I could not have orchestrated your efforts better myself."
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
The Voice soothes her; something about her Lady’s greeting and gentle touch is a balm to her demigod’s body and soul. And if it were possible for her blush under the praise she probably would - but has to settle for a smile and a chuckle instead. Wessex knows she has leagues to go before she could ever compare to the Goddess, but hearing the comparison does her confidence wonders. “Thank you,” she murmurs, letting her thoughts linger on the events. “I suppose that even though we lost the Relic, we learned a lot about them, too. Remi is all about brute force. Ronin can… explode. And I can only assume they have the Relic from the Peepholes. Noah turned into the snake… thing we encountered down there.”
Shaking her head, Wessex purses her lips and tries to let it go. At least two down, and she’d be an idiot to think they might not have more. “But we are far more ingenious. That’s obvious.” The question would likely be how long they had to be clever before they took too much damage. More guerilla tactics might be the name of the game come actual war time. “How are you?” she asks gently, turning ice-blue eyes to electric ones.
"The Eye...or so he calls themselves these days, has a book..." The Voice explains. "It is rumoured to have come from Caido, but what isn't rumour, is what it can do. With absolute infallibility, it knows things. Things that have either recently come to pass, or that will happen. The latter happens less often, but.." But any amount of future-telling at all was an incredible boon. "It is possible that this how they are able to find things out. Or perhaps they have some other way of sussing out relics..." The Voice adds, frowning thoughtfully.
The question, so human and so considerate, has the Voice smiling.
"I am frustrated." She replies. "The Old Gods are able to spuriously hand out gifts and abilities as if by so doing they aren't digging the graves of our family. The Grounds have now been mostly Ascended-lived for how many seasons now? There has been no fighting. No war. None of the treachery we're so often accused of." Her cheeks glow with a violet fury as she gives her head a shake. "Reason means little these days. Success is all we can strive for, with thick skin that the cruel lies they tell might just be ignored."
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
Like a good student, Wessex listens closely. She has no idea what The Eye means, but a book… a book is tangible. A book could be stolen. But a thing like that is likely kept under lock and key. Still, it has her thinking as well, and it isn’t until the Voice admits her own frustration that Wessex stops the vaguely heroic thoughts. For now.
She frows as well, knowing that the Old Gods spew hatred and bitterness and how it infects their followers. It’s insidious; a poison mortals don’t know they swallow until it’s too late. “You give me so much… can you not give the same way to my siblings?” Maybe that’s not the right question. She cuts herself off with a sharp gesture. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to demand or insinuate.” Wessex knows their Lady creates things in a way the Old Gods don’t, but perhaps she doesn’t understand the limitations.
“I’m just frustrated too. Our kindest make no headway against hate. Mabel’s missing - again. The Grounds’ quest is unfinished. Training isn’t a priority. And Azrael is scared to live their life to the fullest. That…” That makes her unbelievably sad. She shakes her head again. “And I have a hundred ideas, yet no sense of direction.”
The Voice smiles, not finding the Wraith's suggestion to be demanding in the slightest. "Their bodies are not as strong as yours." She points out. "I give them all that I can, when I can (aka when they level). To do so early would result in disaster. Believe me, I have tried such methods in the past." With that said..."All of your upgrades are shareable. It is possible, especially under the hands of Isla or Nate, to share them freely between yourselves." She points out.
"Mabel..." The Voice tilts her head, scanning. "Is in Stormbreak." Raising an eyebrow to indicate that there is little more information she can offer as to why the ascended might be there, the Voice shakes her head. "Your frustration is understandable. Where almost all of our family must fight that we might not be made extinct by the old gods, the rest of Caido is free to do as they want. It is an unfair situation." Tilting her head again, the Voice nods encouragingly. "Tell me your ideas."
12-19-2021, 10:02 PM (This post was last modified: 12-19-2021, 10:04 PM by Wessex.)
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
“Stormbreak?” Wessex gasps, simultaneously horrified that she’s there and enraged - at Mabel, perhaps, or what she assumes is something nefarious. Something she will absolutely use as soon as she leaves the cave. And then there’s relief that she isn’t dead.
And, well, at least there’s some good news. Her suspicions about sharing upgrades are confirmed, but the rate of accumulation and growth… she sighs. There’s a lot of sighing going on today. “And I can’t make them grow any faster. Or come to you.” It’s a bitter acknowledgement, but a sign, perhaps, that the demigod has learned some lessons over the years. She can’t make anyone stay, either. “I miss Amun,” slips out in another moment of vulnerability, but Wessex is quickly pivoting to the various ideas asked for.
“In no particular order… “ she begins, ticking them off on her fingers. “I got a note about the Flowerbirth deity. Staying on the seasonal Gods’ good sides has proven useful. I could go find them. Search for the next Relic, obviously. Try to find a way to keep Remi out of the Grounds - or a way to protect someone from him, perhaps. Nate’s brother came asking to spy for us, and I was going to send him to map out Stormbreak… but now I’m thinking I ought to skip him and go there directly to contact Mabel first. Or steal that book you mentioned. Start training the fighters we’ve got - and it’s not many - in guerilla tactics. Destroy skyports. Limit the Portals. Kill Noah next chance I get. Go through the Draig. Try to reach Caido. Or the Core?”
Having gone through her two hands, Wessex finally stops, spreads her hands, and shrugs. There is a very wiiiiiide range of ideas there, spanning ambition to pure folly.
"That is what I can sense of her, yes. She feels...weak. There are no shrines in Stormbreak for her to call me from, of course, and drinking from anyone while there would be risky." No doubt the girl was merely playing it safe, by letting her energy wane rather than drawing attention to herself.
Humming a note of agreement, the Voice nods. "Freewill...it is both a blessing and a curse that I offer to you all." She says with a small sigh. The mention of Amun though has the Voice pausing, before flashing her Wraith an understanding smile. "He was good council and could be relied upon." She agrees.
Listening until Wessex is finished before she interjects, the Voice has to hold back a laugh. Apparently a hundred ideas was only a small exaggeration. "The Flowerbirth deity...he has not been seen in sometime. I would think he would be found somewhere with an abundance of plants. Growing things is his favourite pasttime." The Voice recalls. "Isla is the only ascended who can kill Remi. Though it might be a catalyst to bigger things...perhaps removing that particular pawn from the board could be worth it?" But of course getting Isla to agree would be a feat in itself.
"Since you can disguise yourself, Stormbreak should prove no difficulty for you. Though, tell them you are an attuned if asked. Members of the Order can detect accepted, so they will know if you lie about that. As for the book...it belongs to The Eye as I've said, and taking it from him will require planning and cleverness. " There's more of course, and the Voice addresses Wessex's ideas as best she can. "Destroying Skyports would certainly refocus the attention of many of our enemies...and it is strange isn't it, how many hate us, and yet use our technology so freely?
The Draig is guarded by dragons with various levels of ability..you might withstand them and perhaps Isla, but...few others will."
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
It’s true, it was only a small exaggeration; her demigod is a chronic over-thinker.
She has a lot to digest, so Wessex stands with a slight frown on her face (resting thinking face) for a while after the Voice finishes, trying to decide what might be the best thing to do given… everything. And what she keeps coming back too, the one thing that keeps tugging on her heartstrings, is the thought of Mabel alone in Stormbreak. Knowing how the girl died the first time is more than enough to make the self-styled Older Sister's gut clench in guilt. “Mabel first, then. I can’t leave her there,” the Wraith says with a small shake of her head. “Not if she's weak and potentially in danger.” What kind of leader would she be if she simply left her - again?
After that? Even with all this knowledge freely given, it feels like only three of those are both important and doable. Relics still remain at the forefront of her mind, along with the Flowerbirth deity and the book... and the book would take more time - but there's an idea brewing for that, too. “Bastien said the Core told him about the Peepholes. Was that its relic? The one in the Sea of Glass was Safrin’s. So… do you have one?”
"Clever. Very clever." The Voice praises. "Warren Atticus was a brilliant inventor. He was one who helped our cause in the early days. It is his amulet that Noah now has."
As for her own?
The Voice's smile fades.
"Diana..." She says softly, pain etching itself across her face as she gives her head a slight shake. "Diana Bright. When I call you all my bright ones, it is out of love for her." Now, the Voice's smile is tight with memory and hurt. "Where that relic is, I cannot say. It's...veiled from me, somehow."
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
Every time the Voice reveals something about herself - something personal, something about the past that’s more than just facts - Wessex’s love for her Goddess increasing. As does her wish that all of Caido could know this side of her. Smiling to hear the woman’s name said so tenderly, the demigod finds herself briefly (morbidly) hoping that her own name might one day be said the same way. If, for some reason, she doesn’t survive this.
“I see…” After a moment, she presses gently for clarification. “Is it the same veiled feeling for you, when you can’t see a place because we haven’t been there, and when the Old Gods have… put their power into something to hide it? Life Safrin’s Library?” Because if it’s the former, that can be rectified. Off the top of her head, Wessex can imagine it’s either in Hak Etme, Stormbreak, or the Draig. If it’s the latter… that might be more difficult.
"This feels more like it's being actively hidden." The Voice confirms after a moment of thoughtful internal scanning. There was a slight...difference in vibration when parts of the world were being actively masked, versus those which were simply dark. 'But...if it is the old gods, I cannot say which one."
As for Stormbreak? Closing her eyes, the Voice shifts, sending her consciousness out into her network of bright minds. Her eyelashes flutter for a moment as her focus shifts and darts around, before she stiffens and sits straighter. "A few, but they feel weak. Nearly offline." She replies, her lips pulled tight.
we're all stories unfinished and we die to find some fitting words to write
“Relics offline?” Wessex replies, sure that there must be some kind of misunderstanding in her previous question.
“Oh - you mean there are other Ascended that are there too? Offline?” Without waiting for a confirmation, Wessex snarls and slightly and mutters, “For fucks sake…” She’d never doubted that the threats to their family were very, very real, but multiple siblings in bad shape is just a slap in the face. “I’ll do my best.” Looking back to her Lady with a determined expression, it appears the Wraith is already mentally gearing up for the next big thing.
She starts to shift as the conversation dies down. “Anything else I need to know right now - relics or anything or can pass on to my brothers and sisters when I see them next?” Well aware that they're all on a 'need-to-know' basis, Wessex can't help but try for every last drop. Knowledge is power.
"Yes." The Voice replies with a nod; ascended in Stormbreak.
Thoughtfully she pauses, before shaking her head. "Let's not muddy the waters for now. Go and see what you can do in Stormbreak. We have a year left, which is both a lot of time just as much as it isn't. But taking care of what we can is more important than discussing hypotheticals. At least right now." So saying the Voice extends her wrist that Wessex might properly restore herself. All the while the goddess whispers reassurances and promises that they will speak soon.
