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!
And just like that, Amun finds himself with a table mate. He wasn't entirely sure if she'd been transported to him or vice versa, but he figured it didn't matter. She didn't look familiar to him, so he gave her a grin as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "You think they had some sort of method behind the pairings or was it just random?" He spoke in a feigned whisper and waggled his eyebrows, jerking his chin at the beautiful god overseeing the proceedings for good measure.
Speaking at a more normal volume, he nodded at her. "I should let you know before we get too far that while you're beautiful and I'm sure you're excellent company, you're not exactly my type." He kept smiling as he waited for her to respond to his comments.
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
Lena had been excited about the prospects of meeting others, simply for the sake of curiosity. Of knowing the world beyond Stormbreak.
She hadn’t expected this though. Or why Frey would’ve sent her towards an Ascended.
Having never met any of these individuals, and only having stories, legends, truths, and fabrications to go off of, her first glance towards Amun could’ve been alarm, apprehension, a shot of nerves sent within her hands, curling down into her fingers. But the Caretaker was not a coward, and Frey must’ve had some reason for this – so she adjusted her initial panic, coming to sit at the table. With a generous smile, and a forged breath, the friendly and amicable side of her nature remained. “Maybe for the drama?”
At the stranger’s next statement though, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Nor are you mine.” (Ascended.). The grin lingered, with a tilt of her head, as if studying the man before her. “I’m Lena.”
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
Amun hummed a note as he grinned at Lena. Although his eyes caught the slight movement of her hands before she sat, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he arched an eyebrow as he leaned forward towards her. "Does that mean there's the potential for drama between us?" Letting out a laugh, he winked at her. "I'm not saying that's a nonstarter, just want to be prepared."
Placing his hand over his heart, he gasped. "I might never recover. I thought I was everyone's type." Waggling his eyebrows, he tilted his head to one side. "Well, while my pride is wounded, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lena." He inclined his head to her.
Crossing one leg over the other, he rested his hands on his knee. "So, should we get on with the awkward first date questions? You know, what do you do for a living, got any siblings, what's your guilty pleasure, that sort of thing?"
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
Considering implications of impending wars, where she lived, and associations combined with stories, myths, and everything else, she could only snort at the notion. “Potentially,” came on a bright smile and hidden, shaking fingers, gliding them under the table. Maybe the grin overrode the anxiety and apprehension building in her gut too, as her eyes glanced downward for a moment, adjusting her veils, guarding and settling. “And what’s your name?”
Then there were multitudes of questions, as per awkward first dates (though – to be fair, she usually found out those things long before she and another went out - but these circumstances were bizarre at best). Her gaze widened for a moment, before she steeled herself for something impending. “I’m the Caretaker of the Celestine in Stormbreak.” A number of notions in one breath – but Lena was no liar. “I have a sister.” The woman’s smile softened then, overtly fond. “What about yourself?”
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
02-20-2022, 04:22 AM (This post was last modified: 02-20-2022, 04:23 AM by Amun.)
full moon rising on the waters of my soul
Amun tapped his nose as Lena revealed there was the potential for drama between them. "Got it. Well, if it happens, let's at least make it something to write home about. Deal?" Arching an eyebrow at her, he let out a chuckle.
Smacking himself in the forehead, he shook his head. "Right. Kind of an important detail." Lowering his hand back to his knee, he smiled at her. "I'm Amun. Amun Arlun if you need my full name."
Nodding along to her answers, his smile slipped away for a moment as she brought up Stormbreak. However, he plastered a grin onto his lips as she went on. "What is the Celestine and what do you take care of? And are the two of you close?" Leaning back in the chair, he hummed a low note. "I'm an only child. As for work, I'm a potter, and I run the Art-isan's Guild in the Hollowed Ground. Nothing too glamorous, but I enjoy it." His smile became a bit more genuine as he spoke.
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
Drama for the sake of drama had never been one of Lena’s fortes, so she could only tilt her head, arch a brow, and give a light laugh in politeness, fingers treading over the patterns and pleats in her dress. “Deal.”
But the Ascended gave his name, and she collected it in the back of her mind, much like many of her observations. Some to be noted later, when fixing up an enclosure, others furtive and secretive, not to be touched again.
Like the way his smile fell when she mentioned Stormbreak – one could guess for multitudes of reasons. Her eyes lowered again, to the grass nearby, to the whispering echoes amongst fronds and hollows, knowing there was no true escape from the nature of what was to come. Her gaze flashed back upwards as he seemed to ignore the whereabouts and location of her home, moving onward.
At least she could discuss the Celestine, which afforded her the warmest smile she’d conjured along this impromptu meeting. A great semblance of pride swept over her too, hands loosened away from her clothing and overhead, trying to describe it with gestures as well as words. “The Celestine is a wondrous garden stretching around the city. Within it are enclosures, and Frey places animals that are sick or harmed within them. I tend to them, and eventually they are sent back out into the wild again.” A rehabilitation center, in a way, for the less fortunate individuals crossing over crueler paths. And her sister? “We are.”
Amun the only child, a potter, running the Art-isan’s Guild in the Hollowed Grounds. There could’ve been a collective narrative in there, affixed with all sorts of descriptions depicting Ascended, but none of the books or tomes had painted them as people. With occupations or jobs. With hobbies or gifts. She leaned forward, fairly intrigued. “Is your guild for artists and creators then? Are there many in the Grounds?”
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
Nodding at Lena's description of her workplace, Amun actually managed to smile. "I guess you're fond of Frey, then. Can't say I blame you." He glanced over at the god in question before looking back at his 'date' and winking. "That sounds like an incredible place, and while I am sad to hear of animals in distress, very meaningful work. How'd you get involved in it?" Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table.
"That sounds nice. I've never known my biological family, but I've made my own over the years." Grinning, he nodded again. Now it was his turn for pride as he started to describe the Guild. "It is and there are. We recently reopened, actually, and it's been incredible seeing the work they all produce. Even the more functional items have a beauty to them."
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
Meaningful indeed, and basically her life’s work. “I was appointed by the nature side of Frey.” Not the one orchestrating the plotline here, but she was loyal and faithful regardless.
There was a subtle turn of her head when regarding not knowing one’s biological family – pondering if this was some state of Ascended problems, or the way the world worked sometimes. “Found family, then?” Here she smiled, briefly imagining it – though, perhaps that meant a gathering of the Voice’s own, where they collected and orchestrated whatever means necessary in the Grounds. Maybe it was a necessity, a means of survival, not unlike packs and herds. She swallowed down something bitter, and wished for a nice cup of tea or something to distract her from the melancholy sway of matters.
Guilds were probably more entertaining notions anyway. “That sounds lovely. Do you showcase them, or are they materials for the markets?” Did Ascended have need of such things?
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
Nodding at Lena's clarification, Amun gestured in the direction of the deity. "Maybe so, but do you feel a connection with this aspect as well?" He leaned forward and tilted his head to one side.
He smiled. For a moment, his gaze was focused past her shoulder before his eyes slid back to meet hers squarely. "More than one, over the years. I've been lucky that way. Blessed really." He sighed, resting his chin in one palm.
"A little bit of both. Mostly we make practical items, no matter how pretty, but every once in a while we host a showcase of everyone's best work." Beaming, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Alright, my turn for questions." He hummed a low note for a moment before letting out a chuckle. "I have two. First, what animals have you help to rehabilitate? Was there anything particularly wondrous or any particularly difficult cases?"
Then he waggled his eyebrows and dropped his voice to a lower pitch and volume. "Two, since we've established we're not each other's types, do you have someone special waiting for you at home?" Settling back into his chair, he left one eyebrow arched as he waited for her responses.
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
At the inquiry, Lena turned slightly, watching Frey from the corner of her eye. “Not as much, no,” she answered honestly. But her faith had always lent towards the nature side of things, and that was enough. She didn’t ask any inquiries about his own deity, letting those notions fade in the impulsive wave of curiosity. History lessons and education in Stormbreak had bent their insinuations there.
Found family and practical items were far more interesting anyway. “What is some of the best work?” Genuinely curious – because the Hollowed Grounds had never seemed to be a showcase of beauty and magnificence. From all the things she’d ever heard, from all the materials ever passed around, it had been in some sort of decay. And how wonderful if it had found some way to bloom.
The questions came flurrying back to her, and she sat a little more upright. “Many. Any that Frey encounters that require it.” She couldn’t possibly name them all – not unless she had her notebook with her, and she took to glancing around for her basket. “The most difficult are usually the dragons,” and here she smiled, allowing him to imagine why that would be. “The cloud wryms have been my favorite, but the unicorns as well. And the blink hares.” And if he sat there long enough, she’d probably end up rattling off about two dozen more.
While she rummaged around for her notebook, she snorted at the last question, shaking her head. “No.” Then, to round it back towards him, she insinuated her own. “Do you?”
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
Nodding at Lena's response, Amun tapped his fingers at the table. Smiling, he tiled his head to one side. "What drew you to them to begin with?" He crossed his arms and rested his elbows on the table.
As she asked more about the work the Art-isan's Guild did, he grinned. "We have a weaver who makes the most beautiful tapestries, in addition to regular clothing. She made a wonderful depiction of the Spark Bird during LongNight." Pausing, he let out a chuckle. "And not to toot my own horn, but I made an urn to hold some blueberry wine that had an amazing ocean scene. It was a gift for a dear friend." For a moment his smile slipped away and he looked down into his lap.
Nodding as she explained more about her work, he found himself looking between her and the deity. Arching an eyebrow as she brought up some of the creatures she'd encountered, his jaw dropped. "Like, full sized dragons?" He shook his head. "Better you than me," he added, laughing at the thought.
Pausing, he shrugged. "I hope so. I've been seeing a very sweet man who makes books, but I don't know if it's going anywhere," he admitted with a sigh. He held up a hand and crossed his fingers.
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
Another grin unfurled, though her eyes went to the world around them – the widened expanse, the leaves, the grandeur of ferns, rocks, and canopies. “The very aspects of nature. How things are intertwined. How they live and depend on one another.” Ecosystems built to rise and fall. The whims of predator and prey. How life was rooted firmly into the land – and the measures it took to survive.
The brightened aspects of her gaze flickered back, and she seemed to be apprehensive all at once, the curiosity gnawing at her, when she knew she probably shouldn’t be asking. She could nearly hear Gideon’s lecture already. “What drew you to the Voice?” Why did others, like Amun, choose to be robbed of their senses? To alter their entire soul?
Weavers with Spark Bird images (that was enough for her to be intrigued all over again), and urns, were far more pleasant conversation pieces anyway. “Do these things take very long to create?” It sounded intricate and complicated, bearing the weight and mind of the artist.
A light laugh followed over the aspects of dragons. “Hatchlings, mostly. They’re quite unruly at any age.” Her head tilted vaguely though, at the mention of another - because it made sense to her, that even Ascended found those to love and cherish – pondering over why he was here and not there with this man. “And why do you say that?”
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
Amun grinned at Lena's response. Following her gaze to the nature that surrounded them, he nodded. "I draw a lot of my inspiration from the natural world, it's true." Settling back into his chair, he arched an eyebrow at her again. "I'm curious to hear what you've learned about how we're all connected."
Taking a deep breath, he let it out with a sigh. "I'm an Outlander," he informed her. "In my old world, I was an immortal, creature of the night, with a close relationship with my god. I suppose, when offered the choice as I came into this world, it just made sense. Was closest to my essence." Smiling, he shrugged. "Since then, she has taken care of me and opened my eyes to some of the beauties and mysteries of the world."
Letting out a chuckle, he waffled a hand in the air. "Depends on how large and intricate it is. A small, unpainted piece, I can shape and fire in a couple hours. Something more complicated might take me a day to create the base, and then a few more days to glaze it." Sliding his fingers together, he scooted his chair closer to the table. "I'm well aware how unruly young creatures can be. Do you care for your creatures mental and emotional needs, or just their physical ailments?" At that moment, Zhanshi chose to return from where he'd been basking in Frey's glow, as if summoned by the potter's comment. The landshark launched from the ground to land in the Ascended's lap.
"This is Zhanshi. He'd like to meet you, but I probably don't have to warn you that he might try to have a taste. Just like your hatchlings." Holding up his companion, Amun waved a finger at Zhanshi. "No biting." The landshark nibbled on the potter's finger before flying over to make a small circle around the Caretaker.
Tilting his head to one side, he waved a hand in the air. "We've only just started seeing each other. So while I'm excited for where it might go, I'm trying not to get too excited." Sighing, he leaned forward. "So is there anyone you fancy?"
and sweetest in the gale is heard and sore must be the storm
“I think of predator and prey, or flora and fauna and their connections. They depend on one another. I see it all the time with the animals that come to me.” And humans likewise – perhaps the same could be said of them. What of the gods, the heralds, and those intertwined in their midst? She’d make no comment about things she couldn’t quite fathom or understand, nor be arrogant enough to believe them equal to the deities. Where the Voice fit in went unspoken – a catalyst, maybe, for so many other differentials and variables.
But Amun the Outlander had believed himself to fit in amongst the outliers; immortal, creature of the night, driven immediately to aspects that were similar in composition. The Caretaker held her tongue, wondering, pondering, just how much the Voice wove her way, made them depend upon her, and while striving and trying to survive. Weren’t there better ways? “And what were some of those beauties?” Because Lena had a difficult time believing in the possibilities; not after everything else she’d been taught.
All talk of artistic matters left the venue as her attention turned directly to the landshark companion. “I try to tend to all of it,” though her excitement was a palpable thing as Zhanshi appeared and launched. Another beaming smile appeared, luminescent and blinding, as she began to talk to the creature, completely unbothered by any aspects of teeth and fangs. Hello there! Aren’t you something? Digging immediately into her basket, she found some leftover treats, and left them in her flattened palm. “How did you find him?” She wasn’t aware of many landsharks becoming bonded to others; more apt to be left to their own dangerous devices.
Her concentration didn’t deviate from the animal, but she tilted her head vaguely in Amun’s direction; listening still. “Well, I hope things work out for you.” As for her? She laughed, curving her smile into something purposefully furtive. “I’m entitled to some secrets.” Which meant she wouldn’t be sharing.
that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm
