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!
03-10-2022, 09:46 PM (This post was last modified: 03-10-2022, 09:46 PM by Wessex.)
you wouldn't even recognize me anymore
not that you knew me back then
The nearest New Gods shrine is in Torchline, and for better or worse, that’s where Wessex ends up when she flees the wreckage of the Tower. Covered in ash and colored slate grey by debris, she looks more like the victim of some terrible natural disaster than the demigod that she is. And even though the sea is right there, an easy dunk in the ocean away, she stands numbly at the grotto’s edge instead for… Goddess knows how long.
Sam. Dead.
Edy. Dead.
Nate. Dead. A temporary condition, but her greatest fear is that without a body to inhabit, that’s impossible.
Has it been burned? Crushed? Stolen and mutilated and desecrated? Daylight starts to filter in, and still, she stands, trapped in her own mind and replaying it all again and again and again.
The Wraith has never been one for hysterics, and that rings true even now. She somehow finds a wall, and then her back also finds that wall, and then her ass finds the floor, until she’s staring up at the Voice’s statue. “Please, Lady,” she whispers, as her hands fall between her knees and her head rolls back against the cool stone. “I need you.”
Still weak and drained from her exploits the previous season, as the Voice appears it is with only the briefest flickers of electricity. Sitting in almost the same posture as Wessex, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her head forward, nevertheless the Voice is able to manage a smile where her demigod likely cannot. "You are not a failure, Wessex." The Voice says, though whether she's pulled the words from the Wraith's mind or if the evidence is simply all too clear is unknown. "They say that we must break eggs to make a cake, at least I believe that is the expression, but those who say such things have never experienced true loss. What is more apt, is that success and progress demands a certain sacrifice. A toll that must be paid."
Shaking her head, the Voice sighs softly. "But many things were learned today. Things we can use in the future. Information we would not have had otherwise, and that will always be invaluable."
Breaking eggs to make a cake and what occurred in Stormbreak are two vastly, vastly different things. The comparison elicits a bitter, needless exhale. Her eyes close and she leans her head back against the wall again, “I know…” she murmurs. “I know.” And she does, she was probably the only one of their family aware of the real toll this war would take on Caido and on the Ascended.
“I didn’t expect it all at once. And I didn’t think -” that she would cause something like that? That the space between the battle and now would produce such guilt? Did she murder anyone who was caught up in the Tower’s fire, or did the Order bring it on Stormbreak with their insidious ways? “I didn’t think I'd become that kind of monster.” Isn’t that what Edy had called her? That last fight seeps unbidden into her already very fulll head. A monster the Voice had unleashed on the world - and she certainly would be to Stormbreakers if she wasn't before; there's no moral high ground for her to claim.
But of course that’s not the worst of it, for the demigod. “Can Nate come back, if we don’t have his body? What if it’s burned up? Or they destroy it, or keep it until he returns and then he comes back and -” And they kill him all over again. Or something equally as bad.
Frowning, the gesture perhaps as unnecessary as Wessex’s inhale, the Voice leans forward and gives her head a stern shake. “Show me one historical account where those privileged enough to write what is recorded, do not call those who stand opposed them monsters.” The muscles of her jaw tense. “You are strong and ruthlessly protective of our family.” The Voice searches for Wessex’s gaze before continuing. “The very same might be said of me.”
Mention of Nate has her sitting up. “He will come back, yes. No matter where his body is, or what they do to it, his consciousness will return. Even if they burn him to the point he explodes, I would be able to restore him. But you are right. They could kill him again and again and again as long as they have his body.” Again the muscles in her jaw clench. “I wonder if we might use their own hubris against them…after all, even in war, who keeps a body as a trophy? Who keeps a grieving spouse from seeing their loved one? No matter what has been done, what high ground can they claim if they mutilate him. If they covet him, or use him as some sort of bargaining chip?” Leaning forward, the Voice smiles with teeth that appear suddenly wolfish.
“And if they do bargain? At least we will know what it is they want.”
Finding her Lady’s gaze, Wessex jaw tightens as well. It’s true, she is protective of their family, to some of her sibling’s annoyance, she’s sure. And what the Goddess says about the body - it eases some fears, but not much, because in the end, she does think they would be cruel and vengeful enough to keep a body.
“I wanted Stormbreak and the Order to feel the way we felt. To feel that kind of helplessness and loss. I wanted them to be afraid, maybe to say it isn’t worth it anymore. But with the Tower falling, I'm afraid that all I’ll have done is given the rest of the world more fuel for their hatred.” Tucking a stiff strand of hair behind her ear, her chin finds a resting place against her knuckles and she shrugs. “And that I’ve made it worse for everyone else.”
Because there’s the rub, isn’t it? That the very person who was supposed to protect them had actually gone and made it worse. Or that what they want in exchange for Nate is too big a price to pay. How can she make that kind of decision?
“Gods, I have to tell Sunjata,” she murmurs with a groan, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Do you know how long Nate will be gone? I think - what if we try to trick them? Say he isn’t immortal? I mean, they wouldn’t know, would they? There’s no outward sign. Me, I’m sure they expect, but Nate…? Maybe not.” It would probably require quite a lot of coordination across parties, but if everyone has the same story…
"I understand." The Voice says, before her smile turns sad. "But they are far too rooted in the dogmatic demands of the Old Gods to ever feel that way." Silently the Voice laces her fingers together. "Likely they will try and use this against us, yes. For those who simply hear of an attack on Stormbreak, they will lay the blame here."
'For all the help Sunjata has given to our family, if you wish for me to break the news to him, you need only tell him to come to one of my shrines. But Nate will come back. It should take no longer than a season." The notion of trickery has the Voice tilting her head to the side as she considers. "To what end? That Ronin might feel worse for what he has done? Or to make negotiations over his body go more smoothly?"
“Ronin? Feel bad?” She laughs sharply, once. “No, he lost all humanity long ago. I was thinking the latter. No reason to keep a body if it won’t be coming back to life. But I know what I’d do if I were in their position and even if that were true, I wouldn’t just hand it over.” No, she’d make them pay for it, one way or another. Because that’s where they are now. "So I guess our best hope is that they give it back. Or destroy it? So you can... make him new?" It's obvious Wessex isn't sure if she has it right - but to be fair, the mechanisms of demigod resurrection were completely foreign to her until a couple of minutes ago.
And as for Sunjata? She appreciates her Lady’s offer to tell the Flood about his beloved’s death, but that isn’t something she can put off and make him go through extra steps for. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll do it.” Wessex tries to force a small smile, but it’s far from reassuring or convincing. Sunjata deserves her honesty for all the hard work he’s been doing to make amends. For a moment, the Wraith falls silent as she tries to move mentally past her ruminations and more towards implications, consequences, and the future.
“Okay. Ah, if the Order is destroyed, there goes the barrier. It kept Ronin and would have kept Noah out, but now…” She frowns, as the hole she seems to have dug just seems to get deeper and deeper. Now they’ll be vulnerable to all three New God demis, instead of just the one.
“I could explode it…” The Voice says in a low tone, more conspiratorially than ever Wessex will have heard her. This was a conversation not amongst equals, but perhaps confidants. “And if there was a way to get those who oppose us nearby…we can show them how powerful we are, even in death.” However, it was a card that could only be played once. “Of course I would not do it without Sunjata’s consent.”
With a sigh, the Voice nods. “That is true. But will they be so willing to test and see? Would they all risk their lives to know for sure? We needed uses of their compass and items to erect the barrier, why not let them think that it works for anyone who holds a compass as many of them do?”
The notion of exploding something in Ronin and Remi’s faces elicits a weak, but appreciative fanged grin. “I’ll let him know,” she replies, personally thinking it a grand idea, but not sure how on-board the Flood would be with end-game thinking. It’s worth a try - always worth a try. As is keeping whether or not the barrier still works a secret.
Wessex seems to be dealing more in secrets and bad news these days than anything else. “Until they test it, then.” She’ll bring it up to Isla, of course, but to the rest of the world…
“How are you feeling?” she asks, feeling the need for a brief change of subject. “Thank you for their upgrades.” Able to push out a more genuine smile now, the demigod seems to be easing back into something resembling her usual self, even if she remains with her back against the wall. It was a smart move - and she hopes that it will also show the younger ones that the Voice truly does care about them, even if they aren’t able to snag the Goddess for a chat. “I know you know already, but since we last spoke, I did manage to get the Knowtbook. It’s been… Wessex has to laugh, short and sharp, “incredibly useful, but super depressing.”
What with all the Ascended deaths, and all, even pre-Tower attack.
"Bullheaded though many have proven to be, I wonder if they would so willingly charge into death when there is no way of knowing just what the consequences might be." The Voice says with a nod.
Appreciatively, the Voice smiles. "I am still recharging, but I should have my full capabilities back soon." She explains. "I both can and can't be everywhere at once." The Voice adds with a small laugh. In a literal sense, she absolutely could be everywhere. Everywhere that her ascended were, anyway. But the computing power, so to speak, was simply too much, and as their family continued to grow, it was taxing. Still, she would always do everything she could for them.
"Had Cian a grave, he would be rolling over in it to know that it is now in your hands." The Voice beams. "The sort of information you will find in that book will be depressing, more often than not." She agrees. "But it is more valuable than I can put into words."
Finally, some good news that doesn’t revolve around destroying a body. “That’s good to hear,” Wessex replies, brightening a bit until they begin to talk about Cian and the Knowtbook.
“Do you know what they were looking for in the Draig?” the demigod asks, almost hesitantly,not knowing if she should have already seen the information in the Book or not. “I heard Cian mention getting to the Lighthouse and something about ‘jumping the queue and using the relics to get past what’s in the Cordillera?” It’s clear that Wessex has puzzled about these things for a while, but has yet to fathom what could be up there other than - oh, perhaps Caido himself.
“I have to go back to get my stuff from the green dragon at some point anyway. if I could get to the Lighthouse too…?” Between her items and her abilities, and anything new that might come her way, she feels far more comfortable risking herself in this kind of endeavor.
Or, perhaps, doing it Cian’s way. If her siblings who are boxed and in the Draig have already made the ultimate sacrifice… maybe she ought to use them for the greater good. Better her than someone else.
03-29-2022, 09:21 AM (This post was last modified: 03-29-2022, 09:21 AM by the VOICE.)
“More power, is my guess. Isn’t that always what they are looking for?” The Voice replies as the corners of her lips pull down. “I don’t know specifically…but given the power of the relics, I would think that Cian thought perhaps with just he and Gideon and a few distractions—“ those of course being lost members of their family “—that he could avoid the dragons and whatever else the Old Gods have placed up there, that the relics are meant to combat.” Staring vaguely over one of Wessex’s shoulders, peering into the wall itself for a moment, the Voice shakes her head bringing herself back into the moment.
“Though I can’t say that the Old Gods are always clever, when it comes to Caido and the Cordillera, they have kept their cards quite close to their chest.”
“Right.” Bumping her hea gently against the wall a couple of times, Wessex tries to jar her battle-addled mind into something that can take more guesses at what might be up there, but every tap draws a blank and eventually, she stops. With both herself and her Lady in the kind of dark no Ascended can see through, she can’t help but still feel a little lost.
“Then I’ll just have to see more of it and Stormbreak for you.” Offering a grim, but determined flash of something resembling her old self, the demigod finally makes some effort to stand up and get on to delivering the bad news to various people. “You’ve… got this, right?” She asks suddenly, turning her face suddenly back to her Goddess. “I’m not doubting anything about you, I’m just… asking so I can reassure the family.”
Wessex would follow the Voice into the firest of the Climb if asked to. And somewhere, somewhere not so deep down, she knows she isn’t likely to survive this war, so in the wake of her mistakes and all the deaths, they are likely to need some kind of morale boost.
"As you are, death from a dragon shouldn't knock you out for more than a season. Should it come to that...would you be opposed to losing this body and having another fashioned? Or would you want me to tell our family to try and retrieve you?"
What Wessex asks next might have caused the heralds of the Old God to lash out, to strip the Wraith of everything she possessed, and force her to humble herself. The Voice however, merely smiled. Warmly. Lovingly. "What I have is a future for us all. A future where we might grow and thrive without repercussion simply because we exist." She replies softly. "If we fail, we will do so on our own terms. Fighting for equality. For the right to be."
Pausing, the Voice regards her hands for a moment in a way that makes her look quite human. "I will offer myself up as a life source that you might all live should we lose the war, but I don't think the Old Gods will allow it. If they don't, you will all slowly shut down. That is the truth of our situation."
