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!
Her hand clenches, its long dirty nails pressing into her palm as her wrist flexes beneath carved skin. The story, however brief, seems to confirm what was already assumed– and Chaele is not amused. “Perhaps the gods fear to be cursed in turn,” she offers bitterly but lowly, as if it made any difference in how well a deity might hear her.
“My divinations are like riddles to be contemplated, not facts to be anticipated. They could not tell me what you said to your Abandoned friend, nor whether I am fated to be cursed for my disdain.” She looks down at her hand, only then realizing the tension in it, and softens her grip on herself. The glow of his smiles seem to stop just short of her, a dark gravity weighing in the pitch of her voice. “But I see more every time they are done. Like creeks in rain, they make themselves known. Just as with my magic: through no help of gods.”
Amun shrugged a shoulder. Sighing, he looked at the waterfall rather than Chaele herself. "The old gods fear many things, it's true. They are quite rigid and inflexible, and prone to fits of pique and favoritism, especially Safrin and Ludo." Grimacing, he shook his head at the thought of the two heralds.
Finally looking back at her, he narrowed his eyes. "No offense, but how can I know you're the real deal versus a mere charlatan?" Arching his eyebrows, he felt his lips twitch. "An acquaintance of mine can actually tell the future," he informed her. Pausing, he added, "Also I still don't know if you want me to tell you what I told my friend or not."
“I am sure you have many friends, no doubt with more experience than I have in many things. Alas, I do not care if you believe in my power.” She speaks with a practiced flatness, though perhaps alongside a touch of defensiveness. Following Amun's gaze toward the waterfall for only a moment, all it takes is a spare movement from Zhanshi to return her alert attention back to the two of them.
She straightens her posture and adjusts her legs, if only to make it slightly easier to rise to her feet should she need to. “I will hear what you had to say to them, if you believe it will serve me.” Her head tilts a little then, as if to get a fresh angle on her examination of his expression. She had not liked the face he made when he spoke of the heralds, especially from someone who seemed so keen to defend them. “And I will hear what you have to say about these gods.”
Amun snorted at Chaele's response then. Grinning, he shot a wink at the woman. "Forgive me, but I'm inclined to believe you're a charlatan then." He shrugged a shoulder at her. "You spoke entirely in generalities when I asked for specifics, horny, and then claimed my faith or lack thereof didn't matter." Chuckling, he waggled his eyebrows.
"I told her that her gifts meant she was already blessed with the powers of creation, and further attention from the gods would leave the rest of us poor saps in the dust." Pausing, he let that idea sink in. Then he smirked. "As for Ludo and Safrin, I could go on all day. About how it gave me nightmares for playing a game it demanded I play or about how she, the so called herald of life, plucked her favored one from a building said follower had collapsed and left the rest of us to die."
Her head tips upward somewhat and then lowers again, riding the angle of rolled eyes. She offers his reasons to doubt her sincerity no other response, having little reason of her own to argue against what she already claimed did not matter. Still her legs flex briefly beneath her skirts, in preparation of leaving behind that which did not serve her.
“They are hypocrites then,” she asserts after his summary of the two heralds, unimpressed. “Flawed, as humans are. And yet you would worship one, or at least tend to their shrine.”
She leans a little then, watching for the nuance in his expressive eyes as she considers how best to speak. His words to his friend might have been true enough, but they were too little to console the sense of literal abandonment that had come along with her ambition for magic. “You should not assume that I am a Creator. I have learned much from the wilds, how to harvest its bounty and its knowledge, but mine are not restorative talents.”
Amun arched an eyebrow at Chaele's accusation. Snorting, he smirked at her. "Not one of the old gods," he informed her. "But yes, they are deeply flawed. Unfortunately, they're also incredibly powerful, so showing them the proper respect is a good way to extend your lifespan." He shook his head at the folly of doing anything but that.
Cocking his head to the side, he frowned. "I never assumed anything about your abilities. By creation I meant divine power, the kind used to shape the world, not literal creation magic. The power left over from the creation of the world." He leaned towards her a bit. Smiling, he rubbed his hands together. "I don't know if that brings you any more comfort though."
“The world is not for comfort. At least, the gods and their hypocrisy are not. It is as you said-- one must be wary, not content. We may be at the whims of fickle powers, but I will not compromise myself for them.” Their gaze has wandered toward the pouring falls once more, perhaps unable to speak those words directly to the scrutinizing eyes of the Ascended nearby. They reflect on the Roar’s primal power for a passing moment, which is just as indifferent, just as fickle, and occasionally just as fatal as a god’s. Then their attention drops briefly to their own hands and the potential for power they hold. “Perhaps mine will be a short life, but it will not be a supplicating one.”
They do not keep their prudent eyes from Amun for long, looking at him now as if in a different light. “Poor saps,” they echo his old words, their tone finding the pitch of curiosity rather than pity. “What are you, then, that you would envy the power given to the Abandoned? That you would call us blessed?”
Amun found himself grinning at Chaele. Inclining his head at the woman, he snorted. "Forgive me for saying this, but I'm going to wait until you've actually met a god and then see if you're singing the same tune." Zhanshi poked his head out of the ground and bit the air in her direction before returning to his tunneling. "Count yourself lucky if all they do is kill you. They can be...creative in their punishments."
Shrugging a shoulder, he winked at her. "No one special, just a potter. I just don't like to see people sad when they've got so much wonder and beauty in their lives, so I try to help them see the silver lining where I can." He chuckled.
“You have asked me to forgive you twice now. If you know as much as you claim to, then there is no need to apologize for imparting wisdom.” Their tone is arguably as defensive as it was the previous time as well, thoughts of hubris and punishments distracting them from any attempt at politeness. Their body is tense with distrust, the memory of Amun’s phasing through a wall a present contrast to his pretense of humility.
“I prefer to think of myself as practical, not blind to beauty. It is a thing to be cherished, hardly a thing to thank gods for. But your advice is noted.” They lean to one side then, pressing their hand carefully against the smooth obsidian floor to lift themself to their feet. Should Zhanshi reveal himself again, she would give the creature an acknowledging nod. “I am restless. The time for respite is nearly over, and I must continue my onward path.”
04-11-2022, 09:33 PM (This post was last modified: 04-11-2022, 11:42 PM by Amun.)
amun
Amun barked out a laugh at Chaele's comment. Shrugging, he scratched his chin. "Just trying to be nice and polite. Would you rather I just say you're being obstinate and ignorant and that you're going to get a nasty curse if you keep acting as you are?" He narrowed his eyes at her.
Humming a low note, he cocked his head to one side. "You were lamenting that your gift made you less than in the eyes of the gods, weren't you? I was just trying to get you to see there's another way to look at it." He smiled.
Nodding, he slipped off his rock. Sweeping into another bow, he cleared his throat. "Until we meet again, may your journeys be swift and the road your friend." Straightening up, he turned to head towards the tunnel, though not without one last look at the waterfall. Then he clicked his tongue for Zhanshi to follow.
