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 time it waits for no one It heals them when you die
The Temple lay still and quiet in the early hours of morning. A steely gray light had begun to creep over the horizon and thinned the shadows of the building into something dreamlike that gathered in nooks and crannies. Slumbering, about to fade with the rising sun. Though she tried to walk soundlessly her feet still set echoes whispering up against the bleak stone walls as Maea made her way towards the infirmary. It sounded much too loud, and she felt like an intruder as she slipped in through an open door. Even with the carefully wrapped arm, that was the reason she had come, it felt... strange. Like she did not belong in a house of healing anymore, in her altered state of being.
"Hello? Anyone here?" The softly spoken query also set the air in motion with sound, and she cringed slightly. Gazing around, she couldn't see any shapes occupying the beds but she hurried into the room all the same. Wishing she didn't have a need to disturb anyone, or touch the quivering part within herself that barely held itself together.
And soon you are forgotten A whisper within a sigh
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Maea might be surprised to learn that this house of healing is not only welcoming of Ascended, but it might be some use to them as well. Rather, the medic who calls the infirmary home might be of use, although at present she's curled up in an armchair in her office with a cup of tea. Isla doesn't have a need to drink nor sleep, but in these quieter moments she does enjoy a period of reflection, of allowing her mind to spring clean itself.
Blinking back into awareness much like a computer coming out of hibernation, she glances towards the entrance of the ward, recognising the voice that carries through. Opening the door to her office and stepping out into the (blessedly empty, for once) area, she smiles at the sight of Maea. "I am almost always here. Hello, Maea," she greets. "Is everything alright?"
And time it waits for no one It heals them when you die
Turning towards the origin of those approaching steps, Maea tried and failed to return the smile as she spotted the medic. "Hello Isla. I wish I could say yes, but... that would not be true."
For all that she had cleaned herself up, the young woman had a weary look about her that turned the pale skin a pasty sort of white. The dark coat she wore had been draped loosely over the shoulders, still ripped and stained with dried blood and fluid. Her left sleeve was rolled up above the elbow, and a rudimentary bandage - wash cloths, really - had been tied around the underarm. Oily looking splotches stained the wrapping, and Maea extended it towards Isla with an apologetic grimace that did little to shift the dazed look in her eyes.
"Amun patched it up as best he could... but he said you might be able to do more. It's... not pretty." She couldn't quite bring herself to look at the arm, even with the bandages. Not knowing what it looked like beneath.
And soon you are forgotten A whisper within a sigh
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
A second look at the woman in the doorway has Isla springing into action without thought; the pale skin, the makeshift bandages, the torn, bloodied clothing - it all speaks of the sorts of things that are becoming all too common lately. "Come with me," she tells Maea, beckoning her into one of the curtained off rooms with an empty bed. There is no need for lanterns with the two of them present, so the medic starts her work in the dark.
"Take a seat. Can you look straight ahead and tell me what happened, please?" Already Isla is slipping a small device from the pocket of her medical coat - what looks like a penlight, it will do much more than that as she leans down before Maea and flashes it into her eyes. "Is this another Tower situation?"
Isla is using this:
Type: Light | Style: Other | Level: Basic
IntraLight | What resembles a pen-light when held by an ascended, gives the holder access to the internal scans of any ascended it shines upon. It allows the user to diagnose physical ailments with pinpoint accuracy (can determine HP, and lost HP)
And time it waits for no one It heals them when you die
Relief flashed in her eyes, when Isla so readily took over the control over her puppet strings. Like a sleepwalker she shuffled over to the cot and sat down, perched gingerly on the edge. Following the woman's every move. Thin shoulders hunched up towards the ears at the request. "That... I don't... think so? I don't know."
Even though she didn't need it, the steadying breath had become a way to cope. A mental crutch, rather than physical.
"I was in Mourn. A Fae found me. We spoke... it turned into an argument." Clipped words was all she could manage. Just the bare minimum, because digging deeper was too painful. Required too much of an explanation. In the end, what did it even matter? "She... attacked me. I defended myself but... she - she - " The light shone into her eyes was bright. Blinding, almost; Maea blinked when it was removed and looked away. "She overwhelmed me and tried to kill me. So I - I struck back, and I - I k- I killed her." Clenching her uninjured fist she pressed the words out. Too quick, tumbling over themselves - just to get them out.
It was so different to say it here, in front of this person. So much worse, as if that device of hers was shining a light onto her soul too. Lighting up all the filthy tainted spots she had tried so hard to overlook. In comparison, the arm was nothing. Just a surface expression of some internal crack, slashing the underarm open almost to the bone from elbow to wrist; half cauterized, oozing and only barely held together by flimsy scraps of fabric. Too fitting. Too vivid a reflection of how she felt inside.
How vulgar, to make someone have to look closely at such a mess.
And soon you are forgotten A whisper within a sigh
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
"Well, even if it is, we'll deal with it," Isla says with the sort of ease that made her the Overseer of the Grounds as well as a medic. She doesn't shine the light in Maea's eyes for long, gleaning all the necessary information at a glance and slipping it back into her pocket. Listening to her sister's story, this time Isla is engaging her optical upgrade, scanning her for any broken bones or flares of heat or anything else that might point to something beyond the injury in her arm.
"You lived," she says softly, wheeling a stool over to sit down opposite Maea. "And that is never something to feel guilty about. You're a survivor." Inhaling deeply and letting it out again (another one using it as a coping mechanism), she holds out her hands, silently asking if she might examine Maea's forearm.
"At times like these, I always forget how close to life or death we are. A Fae, too... I assumed the Greatwood had made its intentions clear. What happened to her body?" she asks.
And time it waits for no one It heals them when you die
The second time. It was the second time someone brushed off the weight of what she had done with the excuse that it was to save herself. It seemed that anything was permitted, if it was done in the name of survival. Her mouth tightened but she said nothing. Only extended her arm for Isla to examine, and turned her own eyes away from the mess of it. She couldn't stomach looking at her own internal workings - not now. Not when true breath and a beating heart had been exchanged for this mimicry; not when she wasn't even sure she truly wanted that promised eternity.
It didn't help at all to recall that Nephele had begged not to be saved. It still seemed like a poor trade.
"I buried her," she replied hoarsely. "Where it happened. If nothing has disturbed the place..." A light shrug; it ought to be there still. "Her name was Nephele. She - she wore Ludo's rags. I don't know if that will be a problem."
And soon you are forgotten A whisper within a sigh
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
"Ludo's rags," Isla repeats, frowning gently as she moves to unwrap the makeshift covering around Maea's forearm. Wincing - because it does look nasty - she holds out her fingertips over the injury and begins to get to work. It's like magic but it isn't, given that her healing works only on Ascended, but the upgrade is nonetheless very handy indeed.
"Well, if she is buried and no one was around to see the conflict, I would probably say that doing nothing is wisest. You said this happened out in the Wilds, right? It isn't as though any of this is breaking rules." They have no ceasefire with the Greatwood so far as she knows, anyway.
Taking her hands away once she has healed up Maea's forearm, Isla lets out a sigh. "Maybe one day things will stay peaceful for more than a few weeks, mm?"
Isla uses this:
Type: Other | Level: Mastered
Healing Upgrade | Can heal ascended/ascended demigods at Mastered level. The injured body part must be within arm's reach.
And time it waits for no one It heals them when you die
Maea nodded. While Mourn was close to the Grounds, it was outside the boundaries of the region. "I didn't know there were rules," she commented. A strange sensation shuddered up the arm as the wound began to knit together. When it was done, she examined the skin and marveled at how efficient it had been. Not even a scratch remained.
"Thank you. Wish I could do that, too." Such a handy thing; it seemed far more useful than many of the things she had tried to think up for herself. "And I wouldn't get my hopes up. This is the Hollowed Grounds; it's never been a peaceful place." She tried to smile, and while it sort of worked it came out as a wry and lopsided thing.
And soon you are forgotten A whisper within a sigh
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
"It is only very recent. Since what happened with the Tower at Stormbreak, and it's only between us and them. It felt like a smart idea, to agree not to bring trouble to each other's doorsteps directly," Isla murmurs, giving Maea's arm a cursory glance over to make sure her work is complete before releasing her and stepping back to clean up. "The Voice helped me to achieve it," she says. "Perhaps she could do the same for you? Our family feels a little short on healers."
As for the lack of peace in the Grounds, Isla can only smile and shrug her shoulders at that, because Maea is right, of course. "I suppose all we can do is make this place as safe as possible, then. That way, we can at least get ourselves prepared for anything that might happen."
And time it waits for no one It heals them when you die
"Makes sense," the girl nodded. She kept flexing her fingers, oddly pleased to have full range of motion returned to her. She did sigh lightly as The Voice was mentioned.
"I will, if I ever get to see her for more than a moment. Though honestly, I'm... still getting used to the idea. I followed Ludo, before." There was a vague gesture to herself, indicating her own body and the changes wrought there. Unsure whether Isla recalled her at all from the Festival night when they were both returned to life.
"Is there anything I can help out with, around here? I grew up in the Grounds, but it's been a long time since I was back. If you need help... just say the word. It's still my home, for what it's worth." Even if it made her itch with too many memories and a hovering sense of claustrophobia.
And soon you are forgotten A whisper within a sigh
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Ensure that everything is put neatly away, Isla glances over her shoulder and smiles a little as Maea mentions her struggles with the Voice. "Try not to take it personally," she says, trying to sound reassuring. "I often forget that there is so much more going on in the world besides us and the Grounds. I'm sure that the Voice will visit with you soon, and you will be able to speak to her properly."
And in the meantime, perhaps the two women could help each other. Pebble blue eyes light up at the prospect of a helping hand around the Infirmary, Isla nodding and gesturing that she can show Maea around, if she likes. "There is always something to do around here, especially seeing as most of the people who visit these days don't sleep. They have plenty of time to get into trouble. Do you know anything about medicine?"
And time it waits for no one It heals them when you die
Humming as she rolled her shirt down and stuck her arms through the coat sleeves, Maea tried to let the sentiment reassure her. Telling herself that it wasn't personal almost helped. "Guess I'm just impatient, with so little time left to the war, and so many things I need to do if I'm to be of any use."
Rising from the cot, she trailed after Isla. The layout of the infirmary had changed slightly since she'd last been there, but for the most part everything seemed the same.
"Not really. I know how to change bandages, that's about it." Her gaze wandered from the room at large to the Overseer. "Have you done this for a long time? Patching people up, and all that."
And soon you are forgotten A whisper within a sigh
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
"I can definitely understand that. I try to occupy myself with the things that I can change, when I can't get in touch with the Voice for anything else. This place, the people I care about, the Grounds... It all counts towards helping the war efforts. That's what I tell myself, anyway." Isla smiles. She's not sure how true it is, or how helpful it is in the long run, but it keeps her from slipping into a depression. And that black dog has been hanging around her door a lot, lately.
It's true - even though the fire ravaged the Infirmary from the inside out, Isla has kept the layout largely the same, though it hopefully looks a lot more up to date these days. "That's still a start," she says encouragingly to Maea. "I've been practicing medicine since before I was Ascended, yes. Since before I came to Caido. I'm a field medic by trade, so I know a bit of everything."
