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!
The embarrassment had faded - eventually. And Mateo is rarely in a position to be able to examine his behaviour after the fact (let alone attribute it to something as happenstance as some berries from the Oerwoud), so he has to content himself with feeling crappy and guilty and confused about it all.
Is that why he ends up at the Trinity Temple?
Not exactly.
He remembers his discussion with Ever in vivid, glaring detail, especially the parts about channelling and the gods. And so Mateo is here, sitting on a pew with his foot kicking against the stone floor, wondering how he's supposed to say sorry, I'm not really good at this, gods, but I'm a crappy friend and I guess I should be grateful that I can channel you.
Ever, in precisely the same predicament, handles it a bit differently. He considers every minor detail of the day wondering where things went off the rails. Could Mateo be allergic to him? Had something they'd both eaten done this to them? Where had things started going wrong? These mental lists were easy enough to make, but Ever had no idea where to start when I came to narrowing down what may or may not have caused his fight? argument? bickering? with Mateo.
"Hey." Ever murmurs, plopping heavily down on the pew directly across from Mateo. Unlike his friend, the boy's feet are still as he peers down at his knees. "My mom said she saw you come in here, so.." He adds by way of explanation. "But..I can go if you want, I just..."wanted to say I'm sorry and I don't know what happened but I never want it to happen again. Of course that was too hard to say, and so instead with a swallow, Ever shrugs to himself. "I think I might be allergic to bananas."
Luckily for Everest, whatever he doesn't know how to say is already pretty much on the tip of Mateo's tongue, and it's likely something that will prove to be very useful as their friendship matures. "I'm sorry," he blurts. "I don't know why I said the things I did. Or why I felt the way I felt. But you don't embarrass me and you're my best friend and I don't want to fight." His accent and rushed words make it almost impossible to decipher, but he's earnest nonetheless.
"I'm sorry about the bananas," he adds, shifting uncomfortably on the pew. "I came here to see if I could figure out the gods a bit better. In case of channelling..." And it's a stupid idea. He's not embarrassed by it any more, at least, but it's still confusing. And stupid, did he mention that before?
For all of Ever's previous complaints about not being able to understand Mateo when he slips in and out of the travelling tongue, the truth was, most of the time he did. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean those things either. It was like..the banana just took hold of my tongue." Ever agrees, glancing shyly over his shoulder, giving his foot an experimental kick.
"Can we pretend yesterday didn't happen please? I really don't like fighting, and you're my best friend too and I'm really sorry." If Mateo forgave him, Everest Hart would never eat another banana ever again.
"Oh?" Figuring things out was one of his favourite things to do. Perking up instantly and leaning against the side of the pew, Ever resists the urge to immediately pull out his notebook. "What have you got so far?"
Then what's my excuse, Mateo wants to know, and he scowls as he suddenly realises that he might also be allergic to bananas. (He's overlooking the part where he didn't even eat any banana yesterday). "I'm happy to pretend that yesterday didn't happen," he confirms, nodding with gusto. "I don't like fighting with you either. Let's just be friends again, and we can just... figure the rest out together." And avoid bananas, apparently.
Shifting to sit cross legged on the pew and smiling at his friend as he naturally becomes more interested than Mateo has been in the gods, the boy decides to lean into it. Since they're being better friends to each other, and all. "Well, so far it's just the basics. Mort and Ludo are in charge of death, Safrin and Vi life, and Rae and Frey deal with nature and... other things." Kissy things. Need he say more. "I've never met any of them though, and I know they're all more complicated than that. My dads say so."
Not normally one to paint over history, Ever is perfectly happy erasing yesterday from his memory. He won't be able to of course, and will think about it endlessly in the nights to come, but for now he flashes his friend as bright of a smile as he can manage.
Scrunching his nose in the silence Mateo leaves instead of saying kissy things, Ever lets his expression settle as he considers. "My mom says that Rae and the Freys are...well that they don't normally pick sides. They are just interested in their own things, which sometimes can be good and bad. And...I know Safrin gave my dad a pair of guitar strings, so maybe she's in charge of music too?" That didn't exactly seem right, but it didn't exactly seem wrong either.
"I think they can all attune people, but only nature-Frey can do the aging thing." But that might not be right either.
"Guitar strings? I don't think she's ever given my dad anything like that..." Frowning, Mateo rubs at the back of his head and hmmmms into the temple, his voice echoing around the arched ceilings. "Well I guess we could ask them. And there are other people too, who have met gods. Maybe we can learn more about them that way."
Smiling, he rests his hands on his knees and sits up straighter, as if very proud about what he's going to say next. "I will even take notes," he tells Ever. "So we can come back and compare the things we've found out. That way, if I ever do need to channel the gods for either of us, we'll know all there is to know about them, right?"
'Oh?' With who Ronin was, Ever had assumed that everything from their plates and pots to their bedlinens were from Safrin. Blinking back his surprise, Ever itches at his forehead. "That's probably safer." He agrees of talking to other people first, rather than trying to acquire first-hand information themselves.
Gaping openly (which hides the pang of panic he feels—what if Mateo's writing is messy? What if he misses important details? What if he doesn't colour categorize his notes?) Ever forces himself to nod. "That definitely sounds like the right way to go about it." Biting the inside of his cheek for a moment, the boy suddenly brightens. "What if we put up posters? Asking people to come and recount their experiences? That way they can come to us, instead of just having to wander around?"
Mateo's writing isn't messy, and he doesn't make a habit of missing important details when he's writing things down for science, but on that last point, no. He doesn't colour categorise his notes, sorry Ever. Then again, he imagines his friend will be the one compiling all their notes into a completed document, so... maybe he'll enjoy it? Mateo hasn't really thought that far ahead, to be honest.
"A poster? Oh, that sounds like a really good idea. That way we can make sure we get a good range of people, too. I know my dad has met all of the gods, I think... but that doesn't mean his opinion of them is..." Mateo makes a gesture that's supposed to represent unbiased, exaggerated, but he can't quite get the words out. "Want to go and work on the poster together? I'll just make it look pretty, you can do the words."
It pleases Everest to no end that Mateo is able to recognize the possible signs of bias in his parents such that all his worries about Mateo's note-taking skills melt away. He's already thinking about the different ways that they could carve up their sample group and what point-values the testimonies they receive could be given when Mateo suggests making the poster now.
'Perfect. If we go to my house, I bet my mom will make us lunch.' Ever says, sliding off of the pew and grinning broadly across at Mateo. Hopefully it would always be this easy for the boys to put their arguments behind them, and if you asked Ever about it right now, he'd absolutely say he couldn't see why it wouldn't. Mateo is his very bestest friend in the whole world, and just being upset at each other for half a day and one night was enough for him to never want to do it ever again.
