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!
During LongNight the Miana Pool was lit by Torchline's eponymous flickering fires which cast dancing shadows over the calm waters. The journey from undersea to the shore had been slow in his manta form but that had never bothered the merman before.
A request to a passing partier along a canal had sent word for Melita to meet him for a bit of training if she was free. Then he had followed the lights of the coast to the place they had trained once before.
Only this time, he had his trident with him.
When Melita arrived Hadama inclined his head to her in greeting. "Last time, I was not fast enough to dodge beneath the water," he rumbled, calling to mind their previous trident-training - and how Mel's staff and smacked him when he'd been too slow to reach safety beneath the waves. "So. I wish to learn to use this to deflect incoming attacks." Like Melita had, that first time they'd met here.
He readied his trident and nodded at her to begin.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Melita was always ready for violence in whatever form. That likely should’ve seemed ominous or nefarious, but instead she met up with Hadama during LongNight’s reign with a skip, frolicking through dunes and sand alongside her companions. The pool itself was wondrous, even without natural light, and within a moment she had lowered her bag back along the shore. “That sounds fair,” she conjured, contemplating her weaponry. She didn’t have anything to effectively throw - save for some daggers and knives, and the honeybee was certain the merman wasn’t aiming for that sort of deflection today.
So instead she picked up a few rocks, feeling them in her hand, before extracting one in particular. “All right, when you’re ready!” Waiting for the signal and sign, the youth then lobbed a stone, easygoing for the first round.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
He eyed the rocks she scooped up warily, considering the damage they could do if he didn't successfully knock them aside. But then, he could hardly ask for better motivation to get it right, now could he? Hadama rolled his shoulders and gripped the trident, taking a breath of hibiscus-laden air as he settled himself for the incoming projectiles.
He gave a nod, and then the game was well and truly begun.
Melita didn't disappoint. It was an easy shot, aimed directly for him and not too fast. But the trident was unwieldy, half-in and half-out of the water. As Hadama tried to swing it into position in front of him the butt of the shaft dragged through the waves, slowing his reflexes even as the tined end cut more swiftly through the air. Through brute force he managed to bring it up in front of his body, but the rock only glanced off the metal rather than being knocked away. Instead it impacted his chest, its momentum slowed but not stopped, and the mermanta's brows twitched together in discomfort.
Shaking it off, he nodded to Melita. "Again," he rumbled resolutely.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
Hm. That wasn’t what she’d expected either. Even through the haze of torchlight she could see his discomfort, the slow reflexes, the unwieldy way the trident worked. Wrinkling her nose for his own sake, the youth glanced down at her share of pebbles, before picking up another. “All right, I’m going to go a little faster this time.” Maybe that would help. Maybe it wouldn’t.
Rolling her shoulders, the youth wound up – far more than her lob from last time, but lacking any power. Speed was the certainty in this; quick actions a necessity, intending to assist and help with the broaching of those skills.
And if it marred him - oops.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
The mermanta nodded in agreement at the warning, changing his grip on the weapon and moving it experimentally through the tricky combination of water and air while Melita chose her next ammunition. It was, he had just enough time to note, neither particularly sharp nor heavy but then it was a blur of motion coming towards him and he had to react swiftly.
He was not always the fastest learner, but what he had was brute strength; and that was what was required to offset the resistance of the water. This time muscular biceps and back muscles flexed and bunched as he twisted the trident around and caught the stone dead to rights, sending it skipping across the calm pool back towards Melita's feet.
Green eyes gleamed as he gave a satisfied nod. "Another," he requested, determined to set the muscle memory into place now that he'd succeeded once.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
“That was better!” She announced; a broad Cheshire grin following in the firelight. Selecting another from her token pile, the honeybee extracted a larger rock, figuring Hadama could match strength for strength this time. “Okay, more power this time!”
A warning, as she did exactly that.
Curling her arm back, the youth snagged at the muscles coiled along her biceps, long since honed for effective maneuvering and plunging. Though she was lean and curled mostly for speed and precision, not many could deny she was a strong, determined, lithe little thing – and even if they did, she’d prove them otherwise in a matter of moments.
So the rock went sailing, hurtling, with both dominion, strength, and swiftness.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
He accepted his friend's praise with quiet pleasure and a nod of agreement to her plan. They could take it slower; it was generally in his nature to proceed with an unhurried tenacity in most things. But the honeybee girl was fire to his water, swift and agile, and he had known that when he'd asked for her assistance in his training. They found a pace that worked for both of them, and if it was a little faster than his comfort zone...
Well. Learning to adapt was useful training, too.
He braced, eyes locked on the target, but perhaps it was the flickering shadows that threw off the sweep of his weapon, or perhaps it simply was a matter of pushing too hard, too fast. He swung--
And the rock impacted his shoulder with a meaty thwack that drew a grunt from the stoic mermanta. His lips tightened as the stone plopped promptly into the water, rolling the injury carefully. There would be a bruise tomorrow...
But it was still usable.
"One more," he called determinedly, shaking off the pain and gesturing for Melita to throw again.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
All right, well, that didn’t go the way she’d planned.
Presuming, perhaps prematurely, the mer would be capable of defending against something a little tougher, she noticed through LongNight’s dismal haze that hadn’t been the case. The grunt of pain, and otherwise stoic disposition, had her wrinkling her nose again. “Sorry,” she muttered, mumbling something else relatively incoherent.
One more – selecting one of similar stature, but she wouldn’t be swinging or hurtling or throwing as hard. “This’ll be normal then,” by way of reassurance - perhaps (given her proclivity for vehemence anyway) – and then she wound up, unfurling it from her hand with neither a lob nor an all-mighty toss, laboring somewhere in between.
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
"A lesson learned," he reassured his friend at her apology. True training always held an element of risk, a chance of injury - or else the lessons were easily forgotten and full efforts not put forth because the stakes were too low. He had scars enough across his scales and skin to prove he was no stranger to survival; and working through the pain was often the only way to keep that streak of days among the living intact.
A deep breath. Focus. Looking not at where the rock was but extrapolating where it would be from trajectory, and when it would be there from speed. Calculations that Hadama had, after all, a certain knack for in shorter distances: bringing the hammer down upon a blade with pinpoint accuracy.
No overconfidence, this time. No laurels left to rest upon, after that last miss. Melita threw, and Hadama reacted, swinging the trident into position despite the water's hold on the weapon. There was a satisfying clang as stone hit steel and bounced back, and the mermanta relaxed in slow increments thereafter. "Thank you. I think I have the hang of it now," he murmured courteously to his friend.
I never had a chance to be soft I was always bloody knuckles
“You’re welcome,” she chimed and chirped in response, especially for the help she’d received prior. As bratty, conniving, or irritating Melita could be, she often returned kindness where it was due. “You seemed to be getting a lot better!” More practice, especially under the water, amongst his own kind, would probably ensure he’d advance even further by the time they met up again.
Placing the rest of the rocks down, for they weren’t necessary, the youth sought to snag at the rest of her belongings, picking them up and placing them along her shoulder with the same merry steps as before. “I’m heading out to the party,” and she pointed towards the row of bonfires along the beach further ahead – emblazoned, the sounds of raucous behavior echoing down the dunes. “See you there!” Presuming mermanta wouldn’t have anything else to do but amusements during LongNight as well.
{FIN}
and shards of glass I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
