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!
In one moment hes in the Cordillera, clutching his compass in one hand and his bleeding arm in the other, about to be struck again, a blow that will surely be his end - then the teleportation worked, and he was in his Temple. His cool, calm Temple, with large stone flagstones and pillars to fall on and lean against to catch his breath, Gideon staring up at the high ceilings and altar, mumbling prayers under his panting.
Cian was dead. There was no doubt about it. He'd seen the way their leader had fallen, had known instantly that he was beyond saving. Not only that, but he had seen a new level of Ascended power. The Voice could control their bodies, take them over like a puppet as he'd feared for years; any Ascended they now faced had the possibility of becoming as powerful as their 'Goddess' at any moment.
Crying out in frustration (how could they have been tricked by those machines? Why had the Old Gods not protected those doing their work?), he slammed a fist against the ground then stayed leaned over, fingers on his other hand growing wetter and wetter with blood from his wound.
The temple was always a space of respite for Sera. A place where she was always welcome, a place where she could be more like herself, seek out Gideon for professional and not so professional advice. This is one of the times that she arrives to an empty temple, knelt in a pew, praying to Frey as she always did.
But this time it’s different, because suddenly she’s not alone and Sera’s prayers are interrupted — the Artificer pokes her head up from her pew, spotting Gideon what appears to her to be hunched over, and the sudden and bright smell of copper in the air.
Shooting up from her space immediately, she rushes over to Gideon, kneeling and grabbing his shoulders and arm, inspecting what needs to be done. “Gideon? Gideon — what happened?” She asks, concern sparking in her brown gaze.
He would have remained there for hours infuriated and alone, had Sera not come to interrupt his melancholy, would have let his blood trickle down to the stone as his mind raced through all that had happened (and what needed to happen to the Ascended, now).
"Cian is dead." Were the first words that came forth from his lips, Gideon's eyes full of fire as he tilted his head up to look at Sera. He was shaking, though it was impossible to know if the blood loss or the anger were to blame. "The Ascended attacked us in the Cordillera and killed him instantly. Mercilessly." The irony of his own task there was lost on him, his voice full of barely held rage and pain.
Slowly, he took his hand from his shoulder, held it out towards Sera so she could see the red covering his palm and fingers, dripping onto the stone below and leaving uneven dots with sounds that echoed throughout the Temple. "I got away, but barely. The war is not coming - it has begun."
Nothing could have prepared her for the way Gideon’s words hit her straight through the heart. She’s not sure if her heart stops for a beat, skips before continuing, if the way her lips move but no words escape is a part of her mind that races and races and ends on nothing of use other than quiet little strangled “what?” What does one say to that?
And what does it mean?
“The… Ascended did this?” She asks, unable to put any force to her words as shock races through her, hands leaving Gideon’s arm to focus on the blood that’s shown to her, the concern that glimmers in her gaze as her mind immediately races to the rest of the Order, then to October who would likely be the one to ask to help patch Gideon up. “Gods, fuck, I’m sorry—” She doesn’t know what to say other than apologizing for her curse, her hands shaking as she lifts them to grab Gideon’s face and stand, to press her forehead against his as she takes another unsteady breath. “Let’s get you to a doctor and then… And then we can… Figure it out, okay?” Where to start, how to strike back, the Artificer at a complete loss as to what the protocol with this was when Cian had been the mind behind it all.
He had been the Eye, and now Sera’s never felt more blind.
01-05-2022, 10:06 PM (This post was last modified: 01-05-2022, 10:06 PM by Gideon.)
God, thy will is hard
But you hold every card
Had it been any other circumstance, Gideon might have been upset at the concern in Sera's face, but right now he was lost in his own moment, pained and angry. "Of course they did. Only evil bastards in this place that'd want to kill Cian." Their methods had been different, but the man had been a soldier for the right cause, had tried to fix the wound in their world that everyone else simply ignored.
Standing was awkward, shock and the inability to rest on his arm making his ascent wobbly, but Gideon did make it. He took a couple of slow breaths with Sera, their faces close, but he found they did little to calm the rattling in his chest.
"We need to talk to the Order. We need to act-" With this, he automatically swung his arm out, then hissed in pain. "...Maybe I should get it treated first. Fuck, Sera, they've got more power than we gave them credit for. The Voice possessed one of them. The fake Goddess herself."
If she wasn’t freaking out, she’d likely have laughed and conceded the point – that she hadn’t delved that far into thinking that. As it were, though, she’s trembling just as much as he is, spying the blood and lets the pit in her stomach yawn wider as he goes to stand with her. She immediately moves herself to stand under his bad arm, to help give him some support and some elevation so the bleeding slows, when he swings his arm out and hisses in pain.
“Gideon.” She pleads with him, trying to collect his arm to guide him out of the Temple toward the Tower to see Dr. Hart, not realizing that a meeting will have been called by the time they get there. “That… That means any one of them could be taken over. And – And without Cian, what are we to do?” She asks, at a loss, not expecting him to answer her question.
Regardless, she pulls him along with her, uncaring if blood gets onto her – which it definitely does – as they start heading toward the Tower.
"I'll be fine. There's more important things right now." He tried to take his next few steps more confidently, which he did manage, but the slight swirling sickness in his stomach and fogginess in his brain made it hard to keep it up for more than that. It took a deep breath and a not insignificant amount of determination to keep going afterwards - he tried to focus his eyes on the tower ahead.
As for what they'd do...a part of Gideon did want to give into panic. To fret, to admit he had no idea...but he knew that wasn't the right response. He'd spent years telling others to trust in the Gods, even when it had all gone horribly wrong. "We turn to the Old Gods. We ask them for their help and mercy. Their wisdom. They were always our leaders, not Cian." He said this with such confidence one could almost believe he was comfortable with the future without the Eye.
