Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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Darkeye looked at his window and began to talk some more. "My family, as well as my entire clan, were captured by a woman named Pardona. My people have always been very tough and good with metal and stonework. We were enslaved and Demons were our guards. Those who were no longer able to work were sacrificed to bring forth even stronger demons from hell. All this happened in the Tower of Heaven. The elves there did not know what she was doing, but she was building portals and experimenting on us as well as her people to make them better. Faster smarter more skillful. But she lost more and more sight of her goal. One night my mother and my two brothers were taken away. I was forced to watch her heart being cut out on the altar. My father tried to prevent it, but he was stabbed by the guards. I was alone and my clan helped me but it was not the same. I must have been twelve or so. Many years later I understood what I had seen and was rescued by pirates. They found us by chance." He felt the need to tell Melita what was on his mind. He brought the memories here. It was also why he was not sleeping well lately, nightmares haunted him.
Darkeye first sanded the window pane with fine sandpaper, holding it up to the sun or towards the fire to detect any irregularities. Then he continued sanding until it was smooth. Then he cut another potato and went over the window again on both sides. Then the same with the banana.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Listening to Darkeye’s story while she worked caused a slight frown and furrowing of her brow. Mostly for his pain and trauma, or the echoes of things she’d heard before. “That sounds kinda similar to the Voice,” and then her eyes fell again – not telling any of her stories. Her mother, who’d sacrificed herself for her daughters, gone in a flash as the world turned asunder – as gods were ripped apart, as false claims to cosmic beings outstretched their lies and led them through portals. Or of her twin, lost to her soon thereafter. Why she’d become so tough and mighty and belligerent all in the course of a young life. "Sorry for your losses. You could make a lantern for them too."
Her ministrations worked similar to Darkeye’s (since she stopped more than once to watch what he was doing) – eventually utilizing the food too. Even if it felt a little silly.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Darkeye continued to work, stopping short at the comment. "Yes, that sounds very similar, unfortunately. But she never really had anything good planned for her research I think at least from what I heard. I still try to stay neutral and show that I am unbiased. But it is also very difficult for me not to fall back into the old patterns, to be honest. I sometimes fear that she could also be in this world and if that is the case I can't be neutral anymore." He continued to work and tried to concentrate very carefully on his work. Nevertheless, he heard the cries of his family who had been following him for years.
It didn't take long for Darkeye to finish the window pane. He changed it and started the whole grinding and fruit as well as vegetables again.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Melita could argue that the Voice didn’t have anything good planned for her research either – based on sickness, disease, death, LongNight…the list might’ve continued had she been allotted as much information as others. Perhaps that too, in some way, was for the best – head in the sand, buried under simpler factions of mischief and dominion. She held her tongue regardless, studying and perusing her wares, finishing up with the vegetable, content with the polish, sheen, and shine. “Power does a lot to people, doesn’t it?” She murmured quietly, thinking methodically for once, content to sigh and sift through the remains of her work, pondering over starting another portion of the lantern’s panes.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
04-11-2022, 06:35 AM (This post was last modified: 04-11-2022, 06:35 AM by Darkeye.)
Darkeye
Nine strikes
Darkeye handed her the last pane and began to work his windowpane into the ram. "Power is like a disease that spreads quickly and everyone wants more. But then it turns good people into almost monsters. They do things they never thought possible before. They betray friends and family for it. Or bring a whole civilization to fall. I will look at Voice very closely before I try to join her. But for now, there is a lot to be said against it. I think I'm just scratching the surface. I need to know more." He continued to work diligently as he spoke. He set out some dried meat for Fangorn to grab when he wanted it.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Taking the last pane into her hands, she followed through on the other assortments, fixated on ensuring they came out to represent her friends in gilded perfection and facets. The notions of power, from Darkeye’s perspective, were somewhat chilling and sobering in her mind. Of Kisamoa, of her ruined world, of her mother fending off the nothingness, of sacrileges and sacrifices that had come to naught.
But something else he said clicked against her brain, and her head raised up quickly, the words forming on her tongue without hesitation, brazen and confused. “Would you join her?” Ascend? Change his form into something completely foreign? Dependent on a single entity? After everything he’d heard?
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
"Some are resistant to the desire to have more power and are then these just and good rulers, but that is very rare. Most of them try to maintain their power by packing with demon magic or targeted killings. This is something that is difficult to explain. "he said as he continued to work.
He paused in his work. "Ascending is the wrong term for it in my eyes. I don't think I could do it even if I wanted to. There are too many similarities. In my world, the ascended are called cursed. They are beings who have done too much wrong in the eyes of the gods. They can't go into the sun and they feed on blood. No, I would have to be very desperate for that. But I try to see it neutrally because it could be normal in this world, so I collect information."
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
She wasn’t resistant to power – that was certain. But only hers and hers alone; the way it unfurled in her strength and dominion, in her boldness and audacity. She wouldn’t try to pluck it from another. She didn’t have incantations or enchantments to pull from. Melita had herself, the training, and the weapons crafted at her disposal. And she’d use them, whenever a threat arose.
So she bowed her head and concentrated on her efforts, until Darkeye seemed to give his opinions, and notions, on the matter of her inquiry. “I think that’s what happened to some of them.” The desperation. The way life altered, the way they believed they couldn’t exist any other way. “They were hopeless.” Seeing no other options, striving to claw back somehow, someway. “I wouldn’t ever Ascend,” she offered in exchange, in case he wanted to know.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Power was for Darkeye a word for an umbrella term he struggled to put into words here and reconsidered. "Desire I think describes it more what I mean. Power is a desire and many are not satisfied with the power they have."
Darkeye nodded to that comment. " For me, it is similar there is no option. I like to eat and drink too much for that. Or watch the sun shining on the water. There are also good people inside. But I would not call it ascended. Cam, for example, is someone I would count as one of the good ones." He thought back to the Bone Bridge ceremony.
When you see something out of the corner of your eye, turn to look, and see nothing at all, what should you conclude? That you were having a hallucination? Or that your peripheral vision is perhaps not to be trusted. Ask yourself, are you tired? Drunk? Under the influence of something? Is the lighting good? Are there lots of moving shadows about? Are there reasons you have to think that your mind is playing tricks on you?
Because...well, because it would be absurd to think that out of the corner of your eye you had just seen a house. A house with a figure slamming its hands against one of the upper windows with enough force to shatter it, and then...
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
She tipped her head while she worked, contemplating more of what Darkeye insinuated. She’d longed for power too – but it hadn’t been to persecute anyone else, save for her enemies, her adversaries, or those that threatened to harm her loved ones. And she had no shame in it. Completing the other pane, she lifted it up to the sun to see the flecks of light pierce through, satisfied and content with the result. “My uncle is an Ascended. A demigod for the Voice.” She breathed a little, soaking in all the tangents and possibilities, the parameters that smarted and ghosted. “He’s a good person too, but sometimes…” attacked and assaulted innocents.
She shrugged, not having come to all the terms with it herself.
Besides, another moment struck and her brows furrowed, catching a sharp notion from the corner of her eye. “Did you see that?”
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Darkeye just nodded as that told. "People are not all the same. Some have a lust for power. Others try to protect those they care about. But then some want to see the world burn. Your uncle, what's his name? What did he do to make you say "but"? We all have our dark sides and sometimes they must come out. Because if we always do everything right, it is expected of us. We have to be allowed to make mistakes." He said in a friendly tone.
The grip went in the direction of his spear. "That's different from before. I've seen something similar. Something is coming for us shortly. Before, it was just fog and laughter." He said and looked around.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
“Nate,” she murmured, hands splaying on the glass fixtures, rendering them clean and complete with the fruit and vegetables. “He was involved in that latest siege on Stormbreak.” That was probably enough to be said on that front – but she’d also seen him adopt orphans and nurture her through thick and thin, while she strived to remain a solace every time Sunjata seemed to wreak havoc on their relationship. “But he’s loving and kind too. I don’t know.” She shrugged, incapable of describing the nuances when she still wasn’t certain herself.
As for the bizarre imagery, her brows furrowed, contemplating the weapons in her bag nearby. “Maybe we should finish up quickly then,” she gestured to the panels, and all the scraps and pieces she’d certainly rendered everywhere.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
Darkeye now looked at her in surprise. "I know Nate, yes and I know about the attack there were many dead. I want to investigate and find out why the attack happened and why there were so many deaths. I also know Sunjata I saw both of them together at a meeting of Frey. He is nice but also a bit overzealous in some things. I will try to find out the truth."He said seriously and without a doubt in his voice.
Darkeye nodded at her. "I think that's the best we can do we're almost done anyway." He put the last pieces together and grinned broadly when he had the finished lantern. He handed it to Melita. "Tell me honestly what you think."
