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!
You'll be faced with problems of all shapes and sizes You're going to have to make a few compromises
Amun blinked as Wessex explained that they not only were there new Ascended, quite a few from the sound of it, some of them came back to life. "No. No I missed that." Rubbing his forehead, he tried to muster up a smile but didn't quite manage it. "That's...good news. It is." He shook his head, before meeting the Wraith's gaze.
Pausing for just a moment, he leaned forward. Wobbling a bit and almost toppling, he steadied himself on one of the chair's arms, gripping it until his knuckles were white. "Other than...how are you? N-no further questions." He realized he wasn't breathing and forced himself to inhale through his nose and exhale through his mouth as he listened to her tale.
For now we're happy if not overjoyed And we'll accept the things we cannot avoid
empires f a l l when we move the i m m o v a b l e
“Yeah, it is.” Even if some of them are pains in the ass. Frowning at Amun’s continued unsteadiness, Wessex has an idea that might make the whole getting up to speed and keeping Amun conscience thing easier. She puts a finger up. “Just a sec, I’ll be right back.” Running down to the kitchen to grab a cup - where did Daphnie keep them again? It takes a couple of tries before she finds the right cupboard - then there’s a soft patter on the stairs as she re-ascends and takes her seat a again. “Looks like you might need some more, so -”
Like it’s no big deal (it isn’t), Wessex takes the already-healed wrist to her fansgs and splits it open, holding it over the cup to catch her the shiny, iridescent fluid. “I’m fine.” A brief pause. “Mostly.” He knows her too well for her to attempt to lie to him. “Same old bullshit, won’t go away until the war is over and there’s good news on that front, at least.”
But they can come back to the war and the Ascended’s progress later. Where to begin? Keeping one eye on the cup and the other on Amun, she purses her lips and tries to think back to two Festival of Lights ago. “Well… the Festival of Lights are you disappeared, the Voice performed no small miracle. She somehow reached into Mort’s realm and offered the dead a choice: they could return to life as an Ascneded, and quite a few chose to do so, actually. So that’s where Isla came from - do you remember Remi’s companion, the unicorn? That was her, she’s had a hell of a ride in Caido. First a human, then a unicorn, then an Ascended… Edy came back, too. And Adam, Pet, Mabel, Ezra, Maea. Kiada.”
She has but a small smile, remembering the event and Kiada’s name makes it a fraction bigger. The others… well, they had their own stories, still to come. Tilting her wrist up, she licks at the last drop that trails down her arm and engages her healing, holding the cup out to Amun to drink.
“But they didn’t all survive the LongNight monster’s fight. We won. But at a small cost.”
my whole life is mine, but whoever says so will deprive me,
for it is infinite.
Wessex got up and ran downstairs before Amun even had a chance to open his mouth. When she returned, he frowned at her and shook his head. "Surely you have people for that by now," he protested. Still, he gave her a nod and a smile when she reopened her wrist.
Tilting his head to one side, he watched as she filled the glass with fluid. "War? Actual war? Or just the old gods and their followers being assholes like always?" Blinking a few times, he raised his eyes to meet Wessex's gaze if he could.
He fell silent as she began to recount what he missed. Smiling at the mention of the Voice's power, he took his cup like a good little patient and sipped from it. Closing his eyes at the pleasure and the healing that spread through him, he moaned. However, his eyes snapped open at the mention of LongNight. "We...we won though."
empires f a l l when we move the i m m o v a b l e
“I actually don’t live here any more. I made myself a room in the Barracks. Much more fitting for a General.” This place had never really suited her anyway, it was just convenient. And now her room in the Barracks is more convenient. Wessex is nothing if not practical.
Meeting his gaze, she nods grimly. “Real war. But I’ll get to that in a sec.” Back to the sequence of events. It’s easier if she tries to recount it all in order. “We did win at LongNight. Came together as a family and fought the Monsters, though not everyone wanted to… turns out coming back to life only to be into a fight for your life against Monsters was hard to swallow." And Gods, the conversations she had to have about.
"I get it… but I wish they'd taken my warnings and advice seriously. Anyway, Ezra and Mara died when the original Barracks was set on fire by the Sparkbird - did I mention that? Monsters and a furious Sparkbird, all in one week.” Shaking her head, Wessex doesn’t laugh about it. The Sparkbird, now that she's thinking bout it, is still a mystery. Mara, she misses. Ezra, not at all. But losses are losses and they happened on her watch.
Or about the next bit. “Edwyn also died. And while fighting the Monsters… I accidentally killed Edy and Pet with the Eirachi’s magic. Neron was able to save them with some upgrades that the Voice had given us. Turns out we can switch them around with each other, so that’s cool. But beside the point.” What happened after that? “The Sparkbird burned much of the Grounds to ashes while we fought the monsters. Morgan came with Neron and she really saved our asses from the fire. So there was a lot of clean up after that.” Gesturing ‘beyond’ the walls of Theskyra House, she tilts her head back and forth. “I think we’re on our way to making the Grounds nice, if it survives the war.”
It’s hardert than she thinks to recount all the big events. In the aftermath of LongNight, what had happened? “I think during that LongNight, the Order destroyed the The Voice’s shrine in Torchline… had they begun to be a pain the ass before you…?” Got lost? Trapped? Disappeared?
You'll be faced with problems of all shapes and sizes You're going to have to make a few compromises
Amun blinked at Wessex. After staring at her for a few moments, his jaw unhinged, and he repeated. "Surely you have people for that now." He winked and chuckled, but the laughter quickly turned into a coughing fit.
Once he'd gotten himself under control, he fell mostly silent as she recounted everything he'd missed. "I can see how that'd be a tough pill to swallow," he acknowledged as she brought up selling the LongNight fight to the newly arisen. Frowning as she brought up the Spark Bird, he rolled the cup he held between his palms. "Is it still around?"
Closing his eyes at the mention of the accidental casualties, he took a deep breath. However, his eyes snapped open and he smiled as she explained they'd been resurrected again and that upgrades were transferable. "Neat trick," he rasped. Nodding at her assessment of the Ground, he leaned back in his chair. "Well, once I'm back on my feet, I can help with the restoration effort. At least until something burns, floods, or muds us again." This time, he didn't laugh, though whether it was because it wasn't funny or because he'd learned his lesson last time was unknown.
Grimacing, he shook his head. "After I just fixed it, too..." he muttered. Meeting her gaze, he sighed. "I remember hearing rumors about them, and being worried but...nothing concrete springs to mind." Shrugging at the confession, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Are they as big a problem as we thought?"
For now we're happy if not overjoyed And we'll accept the things we cannot avoid
empires f a l l when we move the i m m o v a b l e
Only now does some fraction of regret surge anew, and Wessex shakes her head. “I don’t think so. No sign of it this past LongNight. Apparently, a Monster got through the portal, though, and did some damage in Halo… but I’m optimistic that was the last we’ll see of them.” Fingers crossed, at least. The last thing she needs is people bitching about how they’d failed, or whatever. She forces a brief smile and wordlessly agrees to his offers.
The fact is that they do the best they can, but Amun had been a big mover in their family. His loss had been keenly felt, if only by her, and the speed at which things moved. “Not until you’re back to full strength, though.” A half-hearted admonishment, but one she’d try to enforce nonetheless.
“Yes, they’re… well their sole goal seems to be the eradication of the Ascended and the Voice. We managed to get the Voice enough for her to construct a barrier that’ll kill any Order members who try to cross is, but they’ve still got the Dragoons, their soldiers with dragon companions, and Remi. Ronin may not be able to enter, but.. The Order, along with Remi, are our biggest threat right now.” And the Gods and heralds, of course, but they aren’t tangible the way this fucking group is.
“I’ll come back to them. At the next Festival of the Sun, a mysterious voice announced we all had 8 seasons to get our shit together and that we needed to find these… relics… which turned out to be the weapons and tools of the Gods’ champions from the last war. Five have been found. We only have one. One’s a toss up which way the bearer will go… Remi has two and Noah, Vi’s demigod, has one.” Pausing briefly, she channels all the hatred she has for Noah into clenching her jaw and biting her tongue, leaving only a breathless, tight, “Fuck him.” to escape.
02-22-2022, 02:19 AM (This post was last modified: 02-25-2022, 02:41 AM by Amun.)
Amun
You'll be faced with problems of all shapes and sizes You're going to have to make a few compromises
Blinking, Amun frowned. His gaze slid away from Wessex as his head lolled to one side, the now empty cup dangling from his fingers. "Well it had to go somewhere. And h-hopefully." However, monsters and Spark Birds sounded like the least of their troubles.
She had a lot more information to get through, and he just sat there, staring alternatively at her and at a point just past her shoulder. Occasionally he'd stir at this or that bit of news, but mostly he was silent and motionless, eyes half-lidded. "E-easy, now. He's one man, no matter how powerful. One person can always be neutralized, somehow, someway." Closing his eyes, he hummed a few notes.
When he opened his eyes again, he fixed them on the Wraith. "So. Find the relics, fight the Order, win the war, save the world. Not necessarily in that order" He laughed, but it turned into a cough, albeit not a fit this time. "Any idea how many are still out there? And this...the toss-up. Do we have access to them?"
For now we're happy if not overjoyed And we'll accept the things we cannot avoid
empires f a l l when we move the i m m o v a b l e
Gently taking the cup from Amun, she puts in on the nearby night stand for now, keeping an eye on him in case he shows signs of needing more fluid.
“Oh I could kill him when he’s not hiding behind Ronin, he’s just a fucking asshole. And he turned, like that.” Snapping her fingers, anger flares for a minute behind a pair of ice-hot eyes before dying down - she can’t do anything about him here and now and besides, there’s still about a year to catch up on. They can plot Noah’s demise later. When he can focus, instead of making his usual quips (who is she kidding, he’d make them anyway).
“Mm, something like that. There have been some… developments that make me think we might have a chance. Yes, we have access to the toss-up or we did at the time this thread started, and I think we can fight against one of the relics, if Bastien’s correct in his theory. Even the Order is… decimated a bit. Remi and Ronin are the problem.” Leaning back on her hands, Wessex looks up at the ceiling and once again relives the past month or so all too quickly.
“It’s another long story, but the short version is that the head of the Order, Cian, and this Priest, Gideon, abducted Mabel and I noticed she was missing. The Voice told me she was in Stormbreak and I can speak to a whole region now. I found her, followed Cian and Gideon to the Draig, tried to stop them, but the Voice took control of Mabel and killed Cian. Mabel then died. Gideon escaped. I stole Cian’s body and with it… this book.” Pulling a small notebook out of a pocket and holds it up. “It let’s us know when shit has happened… important events, big moves… those kinds of things. It’s how the Order was able to find shit out, and it’s how we’re going to never be surprised again.”
You'll be faced with problems of all shapes and sizes You're going to have to make a few compromises
Amun blinked at Wessex's sudden anger. Brow furrowing, he frowned. "Wait...what? Who?" He shook his head, sticking a finger in an ear as if to clear it out.
Drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair, he tilted his head to one side. "Who is the toss-up? And what is this theory?" Pausing, the potter added, "Alright, so two people, but still that's two of them and how many of us?"
He fell silent as she recounted the events in Draig Cordilla. Although his jaw dropped a bit as she mentioned the location, he managed to close it and listen to the rest of the tale. "I...see. I'm sorry to hear about Mabel." He bowed his head and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "May she rest in the Voice's embrace."
Lifting his head, he opened his eyes and met Wessex's gaze. "I'm fascinated to hear what this book has told you. But I...I should probably rest first." Sighing, he let out a bark of laughter. "Unless there's even more news." He gestured for her to keep speaking.
For now we're happy if not overjoyed And we'll accept the things we cannot avoid
empires f a l l when we move the i m m o v a b l e
Her mouth tightens into a hard line, lips zipped shut, as she realizes that she’s literally been babbling on and on, while Amun could probably use some not-sleep. “His name is Locke, and Bastien’s theory can wait till tomorrow. All of it can. I didn’t mean to throw all of this at you in one go - only hours after we got you back.” Shaking her head, she snorts and mentally berates herself - briefly - but she does. Death and strategy and the Gods’ doings were hardly easy bedtime stories.
Standing, she gestures to the bed. “Would you be more comfortable here? I can tuck you in.” Trying to waggle her eyebrows back at her brother in a poor mockery of one of his usual expressions, Wessex does her best to downplay the offer. No big deal. She’d tuck any of her siblings in, right?
You'll be faced with problems of all shapes and sizes You're going to have to make a few compromises
Snorting at Wessex, Amun tilted his head to one side. Blinking, he looked between her and the bed. "B-but you've got a captive audience...someone listening to you f-for once," he quipped. Throwing in a wink for good measure he nevertheless felt himself slumping and sliding down the chair.
Grimacing, he rested both of his hands on the arms of the chair. Then, with all his strength he hauled himself upright. "The day you tuck me into bed," he informed her through gritted teeth, "is the day I ask you to bury me back in that hole." He half-staggered and half-controlled fell his way there, but he made it over the short distance. Flopping into the mattress, he lay facedown for a few moments. Then he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.
"Thank you. For...everything." With that, he closed his eyes and let the fluid course through to repair his ragged systems.
For now we're happy if not overjoyed And we'll accept the things we cannot avoid
empires f a l l when we move the i m m o v a b l e
“Thank you for not giving up,” Wessex replies quietly, keeping her hands on the baseboard of the bed until Amun’s eyes close. At first it might seem like she’s leaving, the the demigod quickly returns with a blanket from one of the other rooms and lays it gently over the potter in a sweet, vaguely maternal gesture.
He didn’t ask her to tuck him in, but she did it anyway, because the guilt of not looking for him harder and the relief of actually seeing him alive has her all kinds of emotional. No one gets left behind again. Not if she can help it. After double-checking to make sure the windows are properly latched and the curtains tightly drawn, Wessex leaves the door open a bit and settles herself back in to her old house for a bit, just in case Amun needs something later.
