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!
"There are not many who are able to do this, but I plan to speak with Isla as well as Wessex about this very subject. But first, Strombreak then everything else. It's just too important that it can't be ignored." Darkeye did not want to offend Deimos. He had warned him about Amun and that had been important to him.
"I would be happy if you could show it to me once we have done all the work. But this was a commission from Bastien, so I'll finish it. I am a man of my word as best I can." Darkeye said with a serious face.
Darkeye smiled and also took a piece of the chocolate before attempting to implement both it took him a moment to amend the sketch. "It will be difficult to translate this into stone, but I like challenges." He wondered if he should add a small statue of Bastien.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
The warning about Amun was appreciated, and though he had his own opinions in regards to Wessex and all the experiences associated with the Wraith, he held his tongue. Instead, he nodded at the implications and notions, and permitted the portion of the conversation to drift off.
And another to follow at the commissions from Bastien. “It is within the Artist’s Sanctuary.” Easy to find, based on its structure and appearance; he doubted the man would’ve let it go hidden within all the other masterful components.
Popping out several more chocolates from the molds, all with a variety of toys laden within their desserts, his eyes glanced over to Darkeye’s sketch. “Probably,” and he laughed – a small chuckle, and it didn’t reverberate so harshly around the room. “All in the smile and the eyes,” because that was how Rexanna had been.
Darkeye only nodded to that. "I'll take a look at them when I go back. I'll take a good look at it Deimos and try to get to that achievement. I didn't know it as well as you two did. But I don't want to disappoint him." It was strange that it had been a long time since a man had had so much influence on Darkeye. But because of his friendly and polite manner, he had managed to get Darkeye to try to save some of the Ascended.
Darkeye just nodded, and after making improvements to the sketches, he packed them aside again. "What do we have to do with the candy now?" Darkeye tried to keep the subject under wraps - it pained him to talk about Rexanna and Bastien. A stranger he wanted to call a friend during their brief encounter.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
With assurances circumventing through the room, Deimos obliged and nodded. “I do not doubt you,” presuming Darkeye would have time in between all the other pressing plans. Within a few moments though, he’d popped out the remaining chocolates, pretending he hadn’t eaten the last three or four, and put the molds aside. Maybe they could be washed out and saved for another interim.
Other than the temptation of eating the sweets, there were duties to attend to with them as well. He arched his brow, studied the labor of their work. “We are supposed to leave them on our doorsteps for Ludo and the spirits.” He shrugged his shoulders; it wouldn’t surprise him if the masked deity came roaming through the night, content with high-pitched giggles, snagging at the confections before anyone else had a chance.
Darkeye pretended he didn't see anything and helped him clean up the workstation again. The mess in the kitchen needed to be put back in order.
Darkeye began to pack the pralines and sweets into small packages so that they could be clearly assigned to the lanterns. He sketched the appropriate symbols on the packages and was glad that they had finished baking. He took another piece of string and tied it together to form a matching pack. "Then we should not let the dead and Ludo wait too long for their sweets."He tried to smile but it was bittersweet.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
A mess indeed; though cleaned up quickly and efficiently, everything rightfully put back into cabinets, his mind considering what to do with the remaining chocolate chips (for future snacks). While Darkeye packaged, the Sword opted to wrap several others into little bags, pondering over presentation and wondering if it was worth it. Probably not.
Absentmindedly ensuring the hearth was secure, the fire roaring once more and the companions content, he stepped aside, opening the door to the cold again. Permitting Darkeye to pass through, if he so wanted, he laid out a few of the packages and bags on his doorstep, nestled in amongst the stairs, away and out of the wind. “Where will you put yours?” Uncertain, really, where Darkeye had opted to find a living space and quarters. Still in the Hollowed Grounds, despite all the entanglements?
Darkeye enjoyed decorating the bags to give them even more meaning, but actually, it was his way to honor the dead, he wanted to make it perfect. Deimos had opened his eyes wide and let us look into his innermost being and share his dead friends.
Darkeye pondered. "I don't have a place yet that I would call home. I think I'll put it in front of the forge in the Grounds since I've spent a lot of time there. Otherwise, just here if that works. I have to create a place that I can call home first. Maybe I'll leave them at the fire where I'm staying tonight, who knows." Darkeye didn't know how the tradition worked, but if Deimos would allow it, he would leave it here.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Nowhere to call home had been a vastly similar experience mere seasons ago, so he gave a nod, considering and weighing the options. “Whatever works best for you,” and Darkeye could ultimately decide. He doubted the spirits or Ludo would mind; the benefits of sweets were still the same, and the honor remained no matter the place.
Waiting for the war priest to come to a resolution, he tilted his head, staring out over the world and streets before them. “Where will you go next?” It sounded like a multitude of plans had been forming, in all variety of directions.
Darkeye smiled in response and nodded briefly. "I'll leave it here in front of your door if it's okay with you," he said."I hope Ludo will bring it to Bastien and not eat it alone." He said with a smile. He tried to say something else but he held it back.
He packed up his things and got ready to travel."Stormbreak will be my next destination, I need to get an idea of the situation. I will try to find out as much as I can. When I know more, I'll get back to you. Thank you for everything Deimos I didn't want to say this at first but thank you for your openness." He didn't know if he would see Deimos again. He still had sharks to hunt.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
“That would be fine.” Though he doubted on the other front, considering Bastien’s soul was with the Voice, and couldn’t be in conjunction with Ludo or Mort, but he wasn’t going to press the issue again. Instead, he watched as the packages were settled on his front porch, neat, tidy, and decorated for whatever spirits happened to pass.
He nearly snorted at the notions of his ‘openness’, considering how much he’d reined everything in. But he nodded and accepted the compliment as best he could, eyes going upwards and towards the snow drifting along. “Good luck.” Especially with the foundation of his ideas; for it might have been too little, too late now.
