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 on the second night of Flowerbirth, Wessex is on a mission. The most bizarre mission she’s been sent on in her thirty-eight years, and better yet, one which she is unsure if she can complete - if only because it does not rely on her abilities alone. She doesn’t know what the answer will be, she doesn’t know if there if there is bias or even if, once she has her answers, she’ll be walking into a trap.
In addition to all of that, there are her own suspicions about the Monsters, LongNight, and the Spire Demon. Suspicions that will likely take her where she hasn’t been since she was a teenager: The Athaeneum. And yet, it isn’t fear of failure or uncertainty that surges through her, but a fierce determination. Only Wessex could have gotten that response. To her knowledge, she is the only one to entertain a Monster and survive.
It may be going to her head. Just a little.
Not enough to make her forget where she is when she comes to the underground Shrine. There, before the statue of the girl, Wessex kneels once more and says with a calm and steady voice, “Lady, I come seeking answers. My questions are… most unexpected. I would not otherwise disturb you, but I’m afraid this is not something I have the means to answer on my own. Please.”
Wessex is self-sufficient. She doesn’t like running home to Mama whenever she needs something. But this? This is different. This could change everything for Caidonites.
WESSEX
come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts unsex me here
Projecting through the shrine, the Voice appears soundlessly. Other than her appearance, the only herald of her arrival is the way the roots that streak through the underground pulse an electric blue in the wake of her arrival, and the way the air smells vaguely of petrichor.
"Hello bright one." She says in a pleasant if not deceptively youthful voice. "I am pleased to see that LongNight left you untouched. Was that because of you, or me, I wonder?" She asked with a smile that said she already knew the answer.
"Your questions can wait." She continued, holding up a predictive hand to halt the questions that her ascended was looking to ask. "First, drink and be restored. You are well, but LongNight has not left you completely without its marks." Extending a pale and projected wrist, suddenly where Wessex might grasp her became amazingly corporeal.
The words send a thrill through her, and in a moment, she at least has the good sense to look down in genuine humility at the Lady’s teasing. Wessex may be all bravado and ego, but she knows exactly who she has to thank for everything, and quite frankly, sometimes she needs reminding. It is good for her to be gently - or even harshly chastised - sometimes.
“Your generosity and power kept me safe, of course. Though I like to think my audacity made it more… interesting.” One of the corners of her mouth quirks up a bit. She wonders how much the Voice can see in Caido - does it see all, and have limited capabilities outside the walls of the Shrine? Did she watch as the darkness came for her, screeched and howled and destroyed? Did she hear the question and anticipate the warrior’s coming?
Wessex takes the corporeal hand and kisses the wrist ever so gently, in both thanks and delicate worship. Looking up at the Voice’s projected face, she watches it as she sinks her teeth into the offering. Energy, pure, wonderful, energy seems to zing through her body and her eyes close in relief she didn’t know she needed. The Ascended drinks until she feels as she did at her resurrection, and then pulls herself away. Her tongue flicks over her teeth and she wipes whatever shining fluid may have remained, away.
“Thank you, Lady.”
WESSEX
come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts unsex me here
The Voice chuckles gently and nods, seemingly un-bothered by her creation's spunk or spirit. "Always, bright one." She whispers, retracting her wrist once Wessex's thirst has been quenched. The skin dissolves back into the hologram of the Voice's being, as she stares down at her child with electric intensity.
"You come to me with questions." The Voice begins, folding her hands in her lap as her head tilts with an almost childish curiosity. But decades rest in her voltaic gaze and Wessex's wonderings about what she does or does not know are not answered by her simple stare.
Right, so. Here she goes. Wessex shifts from a kneeling position to one of greater ‘comfort’ and less formality. She could stay there indefinitely, technically… but… why? Adopting a cross-legged position, Wessex sits upon the cold stone floor and looks up at her metaphysical mother.
“I survived a LongNight encounter with the monsters because I have been reborn. Rather than tear me to pieces, they - it - seemed both curious and outraged and demanded to know why. To the point where I was able to negotiate… which is something I’ve never heard of anyone doing before. Ever.” Wessex’s tone of voice betrays the amazement that still lingers in her mind. “Obviously I don’t know your reasoning behind it but I made some guesses.” She pauses for a moment, considering the recent conversation. “And something I said made them demand I ask if they - or it - could be reborn, too. Can it be? Why would it want that?”
She makes a face, something akin to disgust at the thought, or aversion, but ultimately neither of those emotions; toto have those noises, those grating bits, the infancy made real again, well none of those are pleasant thoughts. “When I was close to it… I saw images - teeth, jaws, and skin - that reminded me of the Spire Demon. Lady, are they… the same? Is the Demon confined during the rest of the year and let loose during LongNight?”
Is she connecting the dots? Or just headed in the wrong direction?
“And finally… do you think we can defeat The Demon? And survive?” Really it’s the last bit that’s the most important.
black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul
As Wessex began to speak, the Voice's childlike features curled into something knowing and disapproving. She began to drum her fingers on her cheek thoughtfully, listening with a slight frown.
At Wessex's first question, the Voice drops her hand into her lap and lowers her head for a moment considering. "Can it?" The Voice repeats as she looks up. "Almost anything is possible, given enough time to work on it." At first her answer is vague, but Wessex might note that it is less because the god is trying to be mysterious, and more because she is trying to temper her anger.
Wessex's next question however makes the youthful face break out into a laugh, and she shakes her head with a wry sort of amusement. "Why? Why would they not want it. You have seen them, or perhaps you didn't? But you felt them, didn't you? Their low intelligence, their hunger and neediness. Their brokenness and unresolved wounded minds. You are a sun in their darkness. Of course they would want to be like you, to want what you have."
Curling her lips, the Voice shakes her head slightly. "No, they are not the same entity, though they are the same in other ways." She said with a sigh that is almost sad. Reluctant. Melancholy, perhaps.
"I do." The Voice says with an immediate and warm smile. "Not all will survive, but I have no doubts that you will. Once you are within the Spire I will be there to guide you. The demon...it is a tricky thing, broken and miserable. Its death will be a kindness, truly."
The Voice’s anger does not go unnoticed - indeed, it is marked even as she heads into the second question. But Wessex is still newly Ascended, she is still learning the temperament of her godly mother. She doesn’t press on to try and test her patience, but because she gave her word that she would - and even if it was to a distorted, infantile being, she will keep it.
She nods in understanding. “Its jealousy was tangible. I made a promise to it, though, which seems ridiculous, I know.” But shouldn’t those who burn brighter exhibit an elevated sense of behavior? Should not superiority extend to at least some forms of… honor? “So then it would not technically be a lie, to tell it that it could be reborn… though I wonder if it is foolish to engage it again.” She drops off in thought for a moment, before her mind switches to something else that is far more important, a problem that’s been nagging at her ever since she saw that notice on the board.
“How can I help fight the Demon if the majority of our forces do best during the day?” Waiting till the cover of darkness seems cowardly; she cannot let them do the heavy lifting and then Waltz into the Spire and let the Voice guide her. She is not that kind of woman.
Nor is she asking for anything other than input. Mostly thinking aloud, since she has a damn good sounding board in front of her.
black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul
Lowering her eyes, the Voice sighs and nods. "You are the brightest of my bright ones," she begins solemnly. "But you are not the first." She admits. "I would tell them little, though your wordplay is admirable. Giving them hope where non exists is a dangerous game. They cannot harm you, as you have seen but they can be quite the nuisance. I would not seek them out again, if indeed that is what they have asked of you." She says simply, sounding more and more the disappointed parent as she speaks.
The mention of daylight merely makes the Voice smile. "Let those clothed entirely in flesh take on the guardian. Your time will come once it is gone, of that I can assure you." She says, an electric smile on her lips. "Besides ... one of their gods, Safrin, has given one of them a weapon to use ..." She says, eyes narrowing slightly. "And...I have my doubts." The Voice concludes ambiguously. "You are powerful my bright one, and more of a warrior now than you have ever been. But your time will come, and you will shine in a way that they will be unable to match."
Telling Wessex to lay low is like telling a kid with a major sweet tooth not to take a piece of the half-eaten cake on the kitchen counter; her impulse control is shitty and that rush of endorphins is almost worth the risk.
Except that she’d just been called the brightest of the bright ones, and the praise makes her proud, like her rebirth was worth it. It makes a thirty-eight year old woman feel like she can actually glow.
“I hear you…” she says with a sigh. “And while I’m dying to know what the monsters will say and do, it probably isn’t the smartest thing to re-engage with them.” She mock grumbles for a moment, then laughs at herself. Curiosity is a bitch, isn’t it? She could sit there and talk for hours with the Lady if she would let her, but Wessex won’t press her luck. She’s almost done, and she tries to remain cool and collected. “Is there anything I can do in the meantime? Burning brightly isn’t exactly… my version of productive.” Anything. A nudge in a direction. A riddle. A book title (the Athenieum has so many books in it! Who knew?). Even just telling her there will be a sign.
Patience and ambiguity aren’t Wessex’s strong suits.
black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul
The Voice chuckled, a bemused smile on her lips. "Your potential is so great Wessex, but do not let it be your downfall. You cannot be the hero of every story, but nor should you. You are far too important for that." But then again...the Voice did know a little something about not being able to sit still when there was work to be done ...
"There will come a time when we must stand united...Learn what you can about the Spire and encourage your fellow ascendeds to do the same. Those of you born here will know more. You might seek them out, for I will expect you all to enter the Spire when the time comes."
It is the kindest rebuke ever, and Wessex is well aware of that. She doesn’t have the capability to blush, nor would she be the kind to, but these final words leave her feeling very warm. Very satisfied. Proud to be an Ascended, even, and that even though she’s over halfway through a normal lifespan, her potential is finally being recognized.
But Wessex is the sort that need to be a big fish, whether it’s in a small pond or a big pond. Her competition for ‘brightest’ is more limited than say, the competition for Safrin’s affections. Nevertheless, the woman nods and rises gracefully. “Understood. I will gather them, learn what we can, and wait for a signal.” She smiles. They will be ready, she will make sure of it.
“Thank you, Lady.” Wessex waits until the hologram takes its leave of the Shrine before exiting as well, heading back to the surface with a strangely buoyant purpose and a hundred thoughts racing through her head.
black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul
