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!
Simply because it was important to Darkeye, didn’t mean it’d be the same for Remi. Deimos could be wrong, and never quite understood the Lullaby to begin with, but the implications yielding back and forth weren’t great. “The Greatwood. Though, all things considering, perhaps it would be best to send him a letter.” Thoughts of the older man barging his way through the forest, subsequently getting lost or spit out of the groves, didn’t quite sit well with the Sword for a multitude of reasons. Nor did bothering someone who already aired on the side of volatile. “I do not believe he would tolerate being scrutinized or inspected well.”
Moving ahead in line, and eyeing how many were left in front of them, he tilted his head back towards the other, the inquiry there simple enough. “If you have magic, you are Abandoned.” No fangs, so that left out Ascended. “If you cannot shift or use enchantments, then you are likely an Accepted.”
As for the notions and rituals surrounding the black panther, the soldier fell silent again. He wasn’t about to insult anyone’s culture, and Caido had its own fair share of different traditions and aspects, but the aspects of confronting this brand of nature might not have yielded the same results. “And what if you cannot find Kor here?”
"No, I Just want to talk to him like I do with you. And ask him some questions. Because he is a leader of a group I need to know him. To understand his thinking of the war. I will try to meet every leader of the great cities or even the guilds and talk to them. Even king and queens if I can speak with them."
Darkeye stroked his beard. "I don't like magic and so far I know I'm not able to use it. As a warpriest I was able to ask my god to guide me. But this was no magic in my eyes. What does that mean? What can I do?"
Darkeye smiled as he heard that. "That is easy, then I will do it on my own. And will act like him. He is a god of war and peace. The coming war needs this aspect very much. Kor judges gods and people. There is no difference for him. And the coming war needs a true neutral side. A person that writes down everything that happens. Just the truth. Nothing more. That the people will know what all gods, even the voice, or the old ones, or their heralds did." Darkeye knew that this would make him many enemies. But the truth was important. It's not allowed for the winner to rewrite history. All war crimes on any side need to be known. That out of this no new war can start. Even he would fight for one side. Maybe for Deimos. But the time would tell.
The man seemed hellbent on meeting with…every leader, and Deimos held back another snort, muffling down his warnings. He’d given and granted them, and if the older man saw no need to heed them, then he could sow his own lines of potential escalation and destruction. There were temperamental waves flickering back upon them with every rise and fall of seasons – drawn intricacies becoming thicker and thicker as war beckoned closer. “Good luck, then,” was all he could muster.
There was no flinch in the way Darkeye opted for not liking magic; the Sword had heard it all before, on airs and sneers and pointed fingers, on the miniscule bouts of racism. He remained unbothered by it, considering the way his own had aided and cultivated many moments, shields, and protective forces for the world. He did stare ahead and roll his eyes though, moving along in line, opting for a moment of attention on the cooking, sizzling burgers, rather than the touch of ignorance unfurling from the older man. “If you are Accepted, you can channel the gods here. Though, from what I have gathered, it has its limitations.” There might’ve been some other things too – but since he was far from ever being in such a role, the sagacity wasn’t as sharp.
Neutrality and all its farces took on a blunt edge along the shape of his spine, and he pictured Halo – coveted in such a realm of lies. “Then that will be your involvement?” His gaze landed back upon the warpriest – and having been a soldier amidst hordes of battles, he wondered how one deity could be of campaigns, skirmishes, and then peace.
02-17-2022, 08:41 AM (This post was last modified: 02-17-2022, 08:42 AM by Darkeye.)
Blackeye
Not the strongest win the battle —
Darkeye looked at Deimos with surprise. "What is ist Deimos? You look so angry. Help me to understand it better. I hope I didn't hurt you in some way. If so then I'm sorry. Is it wrong to talk to all leaders?"Darkeye wondered if he did something wrong.
"I think I will still go to the shrines then. I need to know if Kor is in this world. I will fight the panter and then I will see if he is here or not."
"If Kor is not in this world, yes, this will be my involvement. I know that it is hard to understand. But if you want I can try to teach you the way of Kor to understand me better. You don't have to follow him. But to understand why I do what I do. Kor likes a good fight. Blood must spill on both sides, otherwise it's not a good fight. Kor priests fight for those that can't fight, even protect them from their own men. Peace is something that he respects and loves. And he likes history, that must stay in the truth. Nothing euphemized, just the truth. Even so, he loves the battle with all bloodshed and broken bones. He has two sides. One is thinking and logical, that is the part for peace. The other side is the emotional part who loves to fight and put the face of the enemy to the ground. These are the few on the tip of the iceberg. I can tell you more but this would need hours.“ Darkeye knew that many didn't understand it, even in his world where Kor was a demon in many eyes. They never understood him.
Unaware his expression had changed at all, especially when it was tightly controlled, his brows furrowed, then arched, puzzled, perplexed, and confused. “I am not angry.” It took a lot more than ignored warnings to bombard him into fury or outrage – patient, forbearing, and tolerant through many treacherous measures.
Attention sweeping back towards the burgers, since it was finally their turn, he readied a few more bones and feathers to extend out in trade, while Darkeye spoke about shrines, fighting panthers, and Kor. To Deimos’ credit, he did listen, but with his loyalties long since instilled into the Old Gods, and Safrin, here, he wasn’t certain he could follow pathways and lines to a deity that might not exist in this world. His head tilted however, while exchanges were made and food arrived on plates.
Perhaps the mood would be lifted with that, anyway. Ignoring the gnawing hunger in his stomach, he turned out of the line, waiting for Darkeye to follow, wandering down the lane for some place in shade. “I am not certain of your Kor,” he paused, gaze segmented on a bench nearby. “But how would he feel about the Voice?”
Darkeye saw the burger that did not exist in his world and looked with excitement to the food.
Darke followed Deimos and was happy to get to a shady place. He thought for a moment to find the right words. "From that what I know, he would try to find a reason and understand the old gods and the voice. I heard from a few about the things that the old gods did to her. I heard what she did to the old gods and the people. He would try to find peace. If it is not possible, he would kill one side. But only when there is no other way. But I'm not him so it's hard to tell what gods want." Maybe even both sides if they would treat him wrong.
Passing over the food and standing beneath the shade of trees and overhangs, he settled into eating and listening. Absentmindedly, he broke off a few pieces for Belial, who’d taken to lingering around his feet, and Zuriel only gave him a glance before grazing. With a few bites into the burger, he felt a bit more human and slightly less irritated with notions he’d explored before. But circumstances were difficult sometimes even within the best moments of Caido, and they were certainly far from that. It was understandable how much Darkeye seemed to dig into the neutrality angle, because there were so many things, realms, tangents, all clustering and coiling together into a semblance threatening to boil over.
He swallowed, paused, before taking another bite, letting the rush of information wash over him. His eyes went upwards, to the haven of leaves, gazing and studying the veins in the fronds, pondering over the complexities of the situation again and again. “What have you heard?” From both sides. Perhaps they could start there.
Darkeye first watched Deimos to see how to eat the burger. He was excited. It smelled amazing. Now Darkeye understoodd why they waited so long for that meal. The first bite was careful and the taste was unbelievable. The good icetea, the amazing burger the trees and the sun even good company. Darkeye enjoyed this very much.
"I woke up in the Ground and met interesting people there, no names. In a tower that looks like a ruin. I heard that the Voice was kept imprisoned there. That the people lived under a dome and it was difficult to survive there. That The Voice was once a powerful mage that is now a god.
A few people helped to free Voice and the old gods couldn't hold up the dome. Many people died because of that and tried anything to survive and were forced to do cruel things to do so. This is the side of the Voice that I heard. The other side is that the voice creates monster and that they hunt anything that lives. That the old gods were forced to stop her. That the Voice was always like that. That she does cruel magic and tried forbidden things. I must say that I heard more of this side, but I must find out if this is true." Darkeye wanted to say more but it was better to hold back some of his thoughts. But there was a thought that didn‘t want to get lost. "But in my world, there was once a god that tried the same of what I heard from the voice. Anyone who tried to stop them failed. An ocean of heroe‘s blood and the power of all twelve gods and their children were needed to chain him. It was not possible to kill him."
Deimos listened to descriptions of history he’d already been through – lived within, immersed, beneath that dome all those years ago. Different times and different measures, before the world expanded and grew into things beyond shambles and ruins. Their freedom intertwined with the Voice’s own. Monsters that roamed and murdered and tortured simply because they could. “It is,” he murmured, taking a bite of the burger, giving himself more time to respond. “Many of us, myself included, experienced exactly what you entailed.”
Worlds beyond, with gods meddling and mettling into similar aspects, gave him pause. Failures. Heroic intervals and divine power needed, required, to do the same thing they’d already tried in Caido. More than once the Sword had wondered how this war would play out – what would need to be achieved. He knew his current goal, but couldn’t say what the end results would be from a battle many mortals had yet to fight. “Could he remain chained?” Nothing else had freed him?
Darkeye was stunned as he heard that. Deimos was present when this all happened and decided to go and make himself another life. "Then you can tell me what truly happened. Would you do so? And can you tell me why you left?" Darkeye wanted to know more but one step after another.
" Yes but he has followers too. They try everything to free him. And day by day their numbers grow. Humans in my world forget what he did before he was chained and think that they get rewarded if they free him.
He has the aspect of power so he has many followers. They have to give him something to get his attention. There libido, or an eye, or something else. So I don't know if the Voice is a bad god. But there are many similarities that I can't ignore. I need to find out if the Voice is not the Ratchild only with a different name. If so then we have a much greater problem. Is there maybe a priest or a cleric that I can talk with?" Darkeye was worried and angry at the same time. Every muscle in his body started to tense. He couldn't hide that he was angry. He lowered the tea and the burger. The hunger and thirst were gone.
“It was as you said,” his eyes flickering down to the burger, the levels of stoicism beginning to bind back over his feaures again. “Those in the Grounds lived in the bubble for over three hundred years. They likely yearned for freedom too.” He held no fault in the freeing of the Voice – understood it, how it had happened, how things altered and changed within the blink of an eye. “The Voice was the one portaling Outlanders in, probably to ensure she was eventually released.” And still was, given how Darkeye, and several others, were trickling into the unknown. “She spread disease. Many were affected by the blight.” Including those he considered his own, like Kiada. “It took a great amount of effort to heal them.” Old Gods, and sacrifices by the Fae.
Then there was another topic in the last week of Deepfrost. “During LongNight, her monsters, previous experiments, are released. They spend their time torturing or killing anyone they come across.” His jaw clenched, memories haunting, and the lengths they’d all gone to. The damage done. The way one couldn’t simply erase trauma with a wave of a hand or the shrug of their shoulders. “Over a year ago, the Ascended decided to try and fight the monsters. We believed them successful, but in the previous LongNight, a monster came to Halo.” Which meant not all of them had been slain, and that they could utilize the portals.
Deimos took a few more moments to finish his food and collect himself, gaze flickering over to Zuriel, because the last inquiry might have hurt more than the other thresholds. “Another sickness fell upon us, one I suspect was also linked to the Voice. And I did not have anyone left.” Not with Ru disappearing, Kiada dead, and Amalia abandoning him.
Taking in another long breath, pushing down a range of emotions, he turned his attention to similar machinations made by deities of other worlds. “Some would say she had done much good to the world, but I am not so certain. The consequences greatly outweigh any benefits to her presence.” Dubious now, even of the portals. “The only priest I am aware of is Gideon, in Stormbreak.”
Darkeye lost his appetite completely after the last words. "Trying to get free is one thing but taking people of other worlds without asking them is another entirely. I understand the people that want to get free.
" Darkeye stood up and punched the tree twice. He was so angry that this was the only solution to calm himself down. The blight even here? Darkeye took a long breath and waited a moment. "Is it for sure that the Voice did this. Is there proof? It's not that I don't trust you Deimos but this is an important question. What was needed to heal them? "
Darkeye grabbed his beard. "Deimos do you from where the monsters of the long night come from and why? Is there a special place in the Grounds or is this just a random place? I know that these are many questions. But I trust you and your opinion in this situation. Why are the portals not guarded that this damage can be done?"
Darkeye felt sad for Deimos. "You have me now. We will see if this makes you happy or not." Darkeye tried to smile. "What sickness is it Deimos?"
"Thanks, then I will try to talk to him as well. Is there a portal to Sormbreak?" Darkeye took the book out again and wrote down Gideon and Stormbreak. "You told of many things that the Voice did. What is with the old gods? Did they do something cruel too? Or was it just that they imprisoned innocent people for 300 years?" he said sarcastically.
Finishing the last of his tea gave him the opportunity to survey the sudden anger – and the unmoving tree – with an arch of his brow. “Yes. It was confirmed years ago.” And the Voice had little care about how many she’d maimed and marred in the process. “Vi stepped in and created roses for us to try and heal the sick. A Fae, Arduinna, also sacrificed herself.”
As for LongNight, they only had speculations regarding where the monsters lived, especially since there’d been hope they’d been essentially mutilated, marred, and destroyed. He sighed, looking elsewhere, giving Darkeye a moment to compose himself – eyes glancing back to Zuriel, as if her manner of repose might ward off all the darker bits of history. “There is a theory that they return underground during the other seasons.” The portals were another question, despite warnings given. “Some are indifferent, ignorant, or unaware.” He’d warned the Torchline sovereign, and he wasn’t sure what other kingdoms were doing about the matter.
He stifled a light laugh, knowing full well he wasn’t alone – he’d cultivated a found family even in the aspects of multiple losses. “It is appreciated.” Thereafter, his memories traced over the following sickness. “It was a kind of fever. I am not certain of its name.”
Deimos shook his head at the aspects of portals to Stormbreak – as much as he understood about the world, anything associated with Ascended or the Voice was prohibited from that land. “They use the sky ports, I believe. You will find one here,” and he pointed in the direction of the modicum of travel.
Sins of the Old Gods could probably be construed in the current plotlines of impending war. “Nothing that I have heard of,” other than the previously mentioned. But there were always new things coming to light, lessons learned, and mysteries unraveled.
His eyes went to the sky, registering the time by the segments of the sun. “I have some guild matters to attend to. Do you have any other questions?” If so, perhaps he could write them down, and Deimos could do his best in filling them in later.
"No, it's okay those were many things that you answered me. Thank you for that Deimos. But know I must find some answers myself."
Darkeye would offer Deimos a hand to say goodbye. "See you soon my friend." Darkeye didn't want to stop Deimos in his guild matters.
It was time to find out what the jungle of Caido is made of. And it was time to find this Gideon. But Kor couldn't wait. The information on the blight and that many things were confirmed was interesting. Darkeye thought that he found a friend in Deimos. "And thanks for the meal and the tea."
