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!
The Climb held a particular familiarity to him now; the chambers less cumbersome and overwhelming, the potential for the known taking over the enigmatic twists and turns. It wasn’t to say he didn’t amble and maneuver in the wrong direction at times, but it was easier to pick out certain landmarks. As Halo’s molten neighbor, he’d already utilized it multiple times for a variety of reasons – but today it was for hunting.
With a collection of smaller swamp rats tied together and thrown over his shoulder for later butchering in the confines of the Citadel, and Belial content with the rock slider hanging out of his mouth, the three (for Zuriel trudged along, snorting at a variety of obsidian) eventually made it back to the stranger section and sanction of the Cathedral. Figuring he could pay his respects, then forge onward back into the touches and sanctity of winter, his long strides swept past the uneven, stone-like pews, and dropped his parcels down at his feet while he inspected the collection of bones.
Like before, there were few offerings. The infernal area had a knack for keeping many people away – understandable, given its nuances and treacherous capabilities. It mattered little to him; passing the gilded contortions of his creation magic through his hands, a pulse of what he’d drawn up in his mind began to form: a lantern nestled in stars. He placed it amongst the skulls, snorting at the way it looked there, nestled along skeletons and bones.
you're all bronze and bite all venom and fistfight
Darkeye had been struggling a lot since the curse and could neither forge nor familiarize himself with his weapon. He had to resort to wood and stone weapons. He was glad that he still had Deimo's sword with him. He tried to leave civilization behind, so he just walked toward the mountains. These gave him some comfort as always, just as they did when he was a dwarf. Magnetism was not foreign to him, but the curse just because he had Voice directly was his opinion more than too much. Many had warned him about it, but it was not his way so simply another goddess not to tell the truth. He was stubborn and had a thick skull he knew that. He also did not know how long the curse would last but so long he had to watch where he went. So he sought solitude and took a few steps without knowing where he was going. Until he finally moved on cooled magma and heard movement. and went a little more cautiously ahead. Cautiously, he called out, "Who is this friend or foe?" with a firm voice and a touch of fear.
Deimos had a brief moment where Belial reached out in a sudden influx of their bond; the approach of another, causing all of their heads to lift accordingly from their respective wanderings around the room. His calloused hands left the lantern on the mantle, a long, slow breath filtering through his lungs, steel and iron forged within the notches of his spine. The voice thereafter ricocheted and resounded instantly – but with touches and fringes of familiarity that had the Sword turning, glancing, over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. Too much of a predator to be apprehensive about the multitudes, but too experienced in the justification of the world around him to not be wary just the same. “Darkeye?”
He then turned one hand over, casting a long, drawn flame to light the room further; an interplay of embers against obsidian and furnished stone. “It is Deimos.” Belial shifted near his ankles, while Zuriel snorted – waiting, perhaps, for some inevitability.
you're all bronze and bite all venom and fistfight
Darkeye looked surprised yet also happy at the same time. "Deimos what are you doing here in a volcano? Where are my manners I'm glad to see you Belial and Zuriel too." He bowed to all three of them."Before I get closer I have a small problem. I'm magnetic so you better not get too close unless you want all metal of you on me" he said with a desperate grin."You were right the conversation with Voice could have gone better I think she cursed me and I don't know how long it will last. I should have listened to you. But I'm just a stubborn guy... My conversation with Remi went similarly well, by the way." He looked for a place to sit down and hoped he wouldn't get stuck. "I am so angry right now at her and she is only a fucking insane God. I should really listen to you. But now it's too late. She is even worse than my imagination."
His expression might’ve altered at least five times in the series of words uttered by the older man – from widened eyes, narrowed, furrowed brows, reeling confusion, a vague tilt of his head, and summarized only by a vague sigh at the finality of it all. He had warned him in both measures, but it seemed Darkeye's directness, ability to cause confrontation, and emboldened, at times audacious, endeavors had sunk the proclamations in deeper. Zuriel gave a haughty glance his way, in a slight ‘I told you so’ demeanor, to which the Sword could only shrug. “Hunting,” he murmured, answering the first inquiry, holding up the collection of swamp rats for Halo. And given his elements, his shifts, he didn’t particularly mind the fiery blaze of the Climb.
Mentions of being magnetic had him almost laughing; muffling it very quietly in his chest. Glancing down at the tools along his belt, the variety of armor and weaponry at his disposal, he didn’t step closer. Instead, he snorted, and crouched, bending slightly to create a wooden stool for his friend, and sliding it over so that he may sit down on something not metallic or…whatever these fixtures were made of.
Then, back to the subject at hand. “She cursed you.” A statement uttered perhaps to bring his mind back into gear, focused, honed. “Why?” For all Deimos had known, Darkeye had been trying to remain neutral.
you're all bronze and bite all venom and fistfight
Darkeye gratefully accepted the chair and sat up in relief at this he didn't want to get stuck somewhere again. "I asked hard questions. On the plague and the LongNight monsters as well as the attack on Stormbreak. She tried to wax on the subject, but I wouldn't let her. Whereupon she dissolved in lightning and said that my belief is nothing, just as I myself am nothing. She would be the oh-so-great goddess. Honestly, if she already turns the wheel on such questions, she can't be such a great goddess. You had warned me I really wanted to listen to you and have started the conversation with caution. But it changed quickly. Well, now I have to see how I can fight against this magnetism and think about how I live with it. I can not use the weapon that Kor gave me, as well as the forging is no longer possible for me. For that alone, I want to rip out every fingernail one by one. But then I would be no better than her." He said in an increasingly angry voice. Then he exhaled once. "I recorded the conversation with Voice if you want to read it, it's in here." He pointed to the book and laid it on the floor in front of him.
He rubbed the back of his head. This was the first time in a long time that he questioned his task. "I had good ambitions, Deimos, but she has made slaves of many of her servants and uses them as pawns in chess. I will not be able to fight for Voice anytime soon. But if the other gods react to my questions in the same way, how am I supposed to fulfill my task here? How am I supposed to protect the innocent when the gods and people won't let me talk to them? I cannot prepare anyone for what is to come without talking. There will be blood in abundance and most are not even aware of it. Stormbreak was just a taste of what is to come. I wanted to send you another raven but I didn't get to it. The tower has fallen and there are many injured and dead. I have spoken with Ronin and will help him rebuild." He took his water hose and took a big gulp before he let the whole thing sink in.
The Sword remained standing, occasionally exchanging glances with Zuriel, but otherwise fixed and concentrated on Darkeye’s explanations. None of it surprised him – between the attempts at lying, manipulation, and then the repercussions of the older man’s directness, cringing a little, permitting a wrinkle of his nose, to break through the reticence. “Curses do not have to be forever,” he mentioned, after a long, slow, steady breath, glancing upward at obsidian ceilings, remembering Aisha’s not lasting more than a season. “Though I am sorry for your experience with her.”
A shame, really, that his warnings hadn’t done much good.
But coming to terms and facts for himself might’ve been the best outcome for the ridiculous nature of it all. Another quiet rumble exuded from his chest, eyes back upon the cursed individual. “I have heard recently that she can use her powers within them as well,” and he’d been hoping none of that had been true. “As for the other gods, it may be in your approach and delivery.” Puncturing and piercing those notes with a head tilt. “You cannot come in making demands of them. You already know why.”
you're all bronze and bite all venom and fistfight
He went through the conversation again, trying to remember everything. He wondered if there was a clue as to when the curse should end, but he couldn't find it. Much had changed since he landed here. Whether he could keep him neutral in the future was difficult to say. He would not fight for Voice but for their so-called children. "It will show the touft but this way I can at least use your gift." He pointed at the wooden sword he had from him and grinned a bit desperately. "Thank you Deimos. I should have just listened to you."
Darkeye nodded. "I'm afraid I can't confirm it I've only heard of it being that way. Yes, I must learn again the tact of conversation. I don't demand, I just ask, and I'm very direct - if that bothers the gods of this world, I'll have to change my entire manner." He said with a grin. He tried to see the whole thing very self-critically. But if the gods really make something big out of it because of questions. What do the gods do when someone really talks about them in a bad way?
A wooden training sword could only be so beneficial, and though his smile was small in response, at least the armament was something. “You encountered an unfortunate learning curve.” That many had discerned along the way, through their own curses, blunders, misgivings, and experiences – and despite the education Deimos had sought to instill, he also couldn’t render Darkeye’s choices for him. It could've been far, far worse, but the General didn't press into that wake.
As for demanding, the arch of his brow rose, slowly, with a snort to follow. “Perhaps that is your perception, but the deities will have another.” One already had, and the results were plain to see. “If you want their respect, you have to grant some in return.” Maybe the Voice hadn’t been the best place to start, considering the implications layered and lacquered in between, and the non-answers he’d received. “What you may consider being direct, a god might see as an accusation.”
you're all bronze and bite all venom and fistfight
Darkeye smiled back. "Y0es I had. it could have been worse I am aware of that. I will have to prepare myself better for such conversations." he missed his spear and axes. Many things that would have calmed him down now would have been necessary, such as blacksmithing or his spear.
Darkeye nodded at this comment. "I'm going to have to work on myself. I don't want to reproach anyone here, I just want honest answers when I ask a question. If you don't want to answer, I think it's rude to just drop the subject. It is better to say then I do not want to answer. I hate lug and trug and how can I help if people do not even have answers to such simple and direct questions. I think that I have shown respect to Voice but I will not grovel before her. I did not have to do that in front of Kor and I will not do that in front of Voice. But yes, I will talk to the other gods differently. I must say Voice is very similar to a being from my world." Darkeye still had the rat child in his mind.
“Patience might be a good place to start,” permitting a light laugh, as he settled down, closer to the shrine and away from Darkeye’s metallic endeavors, along one of the many stones. Belial brushed against his knees, and Zuriel remained aloft, poised either for a threat or some manner of alarm, head high, indulgent and bowing to no one. "It took a long time for me to hear from any of the gods. And while I was frustrated, I certainly was not demanding.” Because he’d been taught, very quickly, that he didn’t deserve much of anything. “And some may still not want to answer. But pressing them, when they have far more power than yourself, is a dangerous game.” And they were not Darkeye’s deities; he couldn’t treat them the same.
Meandering away from that subject, and twining the ropes together absentmindedly, he carefully broached and breeched another. “What happened with Remi?”
you're all bronze and bite all venom and fistfight
Darkeye nodded. "Yes, I need to learn patience again. In forging, it's not really a problem. But when it comes to something like this, I'm very impatient. I understand that I have a lot to learn. I have to start all over again. I realize that the gods won't answer all of them, and maybe no one will after what happened to Voice. But still, I will try. I just don't know which deity to continue with." He said openly as always.
He laughed out. "We were having a great talk until I mentioned Stormbreak's attack and what Ronin was accused of. He then asked me to leave and I did but I'd chalk it up to a good conversation I learned a lot of things that helped me move forward." He didn't want to go into too much detail about this because some things were not for everyone's ears.
“Safrin is often my choice,” if the starlit lantern behind him was any indication. “But for what you want, it may be in your best interest to try the Nature side of Frey.” Ludo would likely seek out further persecution of the Ascended, but Frey, supposedly, was the more neutral inclination of the three heralds. Whether or not Darkeye would listen, adhere, to his advice, was another issue entirely, given the present circumstances.
The blunder with Remi wasn’t really a surprise, given the nature of the subject; but his brows furrowed slightly, thoughts coiling back into former machinations. “I was not aware Ronin was being accused of anything. From what I was told, he was defending his home.” And rightfully so.
you're all bronze and bite all venom and fistfight
He nodded for now and grinned a bit. "The mistress of nature, I also think I have a good chance. Why did you choose Safrin if I may ask? What makes her so special in your eyes? I don't really understand it yet, to be honest. This world still has so many mysteries for me. I put aside all my preconceptions about Voice, but I don't think I was completely neutral about her. I think I will behave better with Frey. I need to behave better," he said firmly.
Darkeye nodded. "They say he was desperate to topple the tower on his enemies. I find that hard to believe, but if that's the case, he was partly responsible for the deaths of many innocent people. I don't know exactly, so I'll have to talk to him again. But the subject is still very confusing." He said openly (Ronin and I are still at the beginning of this topic).
