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!
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
It might’ve been the giving season and all, but something underlying in its midst gave the honeybee’s skin an uncomfortable feeling – an itch she couldn’t scratch, a crawling phantom, beneath surface layers and reeling irritations. She would’ve much preferred granting gifts to those she cherished – though, she supposed, nothing was limiting her there but time and opportunity – not this bizarre binding of giving to someone she didn’t like.
Once, that list had been overwhelming; a sizable modicum of affronts ranging from harmless and embittered to downright devastation. Nowadays, either she’d toned down the maliciousness, or there were simply less and less of those that irritated her. Surprising, really.
She’d narrowed the semblances down to two anyway, and with Loren having disappeared, it really only left…Kiada.
Strolling along the edges of the canals, continuing in her escalation of a balancing act, Sila flapped her wings alongside, practice strokes in the easy wind, and Fangorn bounding behind her, Melita only continued in her grumbling. “What do you even get someone you hate?” A big sign that said I-hope-you-die-again (and by her hand this time)? With the markets in sight, she figured she’d have to find some semblance of rancor and abhorrence, wrapped in a pretty little box.
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
Mend that net, his father had instructed him in no uncertain terms, the distinguished older mer out of patience with his son's aloof silences at the family meals. So. However much he had no inclination to mend anything with that person, Hadama was swallowing his pride and making an effort for peace in the household.
But what did one get as a reluctant and decidedly insincere peace offering? The mermanta swam slowly along the canal on his way to the drylander markets, wondering just how little he could get away with...
It was Fangorn's hopping shadow across the water that caught his attention; unique and unmistakable in its round, vine-wreathed shape and exuberant bounces over the ground. A steely head lifted out of the water in time to catch Melita's words and the dark-skinned mer rumbled what might have been a quiet laugh as he cleared the water from his lungs. "As little as possible?" he suggested in false innocence. "Hello, Melita. Fangorn. And... I do not know her name," He admitted when it came to greeting the dragon.
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
The voice might have shocked her, had she not been accustomed to it before. With all three of them rustling along the canals, she simply stopped, peering down at Hadama, a wrinkle to her nose, vexed. “Yeah – but what would adequately say ‘fuck you’?” While still in present form? A gift that meant the other person would live to see the next day? It was already far too complicated than Melita would like to admit.
But there were proper greetings to attend to – so she lowered to a crouch, permitting Sila to land on her shoulder while Fangorn bobbed about her ankle, waving his vines in a customary show of bemusements and salutations. “Hello Hadama.” A pause, grimacing a little when she realized proper introductions had never coursed through. “Oh, sorry. This is Sila!” The hatchling unfurled a few puffs of smoke, like wild little plumes, before tucking her face amidst Melita’s curtain of untamed, crimson locks. “Are you looking for something in the market too?”
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
"Hmm. A bauble they might like, but in a color they do not?" he suggested helpfully, swimming to the canal's edge to make a more proper greeting. After studying Fangorn for a moment he raised his webbed fingers and solemnly wiggled them at the gourd in an echo of the viney salutation, then turned his attention to the baby dragon.
"Hello, Sila." There was a softness in his stoic mien for the young creature, but when she hid her face he didn't press the issue and instead turned his full attention to her mistress. "I am. I need a gift for my sister's..." He paused, considering several words, before settling on a pointedly bland: "Remora." He was clearly as excited about the prospect as Melita was. "Who will receive your gift?"
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
The notions stirred something in her – devilish and miscreant, visible on the upturned corners of her mouth, much like a cat that had eaten the canary. And then several other unsuspecting vermin. “Oh. Now there’s a thought…,” and she tapped her chin idly, eyes quickly glancing over to the market. What were the chances she’d find some bauble that represented fire? Everything Kiada couldn’t have? Couldn’t touch? A visual representation of Melita’s continued existence, a thorn in her side, a proverbial piece of kindling ready to strike at any moment?
The thoughts themselves were incredibly satisfying.
Indulged, her head tilted at Hadama’s own predilections and necessities. “A remora? Isn’t that a fish?” Maybe she was missing a semblance of clarity, because it sounded like drama, underlying in the midst. She hadn’t realized the merfolk had such theatrics.
As for her own? Her nose wrinkled, but the malevolent smile didn't dim. “A sworn enemy.”
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
She seemed to like his suggestion, or at least to take inspiration from it, and Hadama seemed quietly pleased at that. If only he could find a similar stroke of insight for his own unsuspecting recipient...
Her question gave him a moment's pause at the reminder of how different the world above the waves was. Still, he hadn't known what a pastry was until she introduced him, so he gave a confirming nod. "A small fish that attaches to larger creatures, using them for its own benefit," he explained. Not exactly a parasite... but certainly gaining far more from the arrangement than its host.
An enemy of Melita, however? Considering her skill with the stick and the seed pod last season, he could almost feel sorry for this person. "What did they do?" he asked instead as they ambled over land and through water towards the market.
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
There was a huff of a sigh embedded in there somewhere, though she didn’t stay in its breadth for long; machinations, while often scarce, were already multiplying by the moment, unrelenting in their chaotic opportunities. The explanation gave her a light pause, considerations volleying and rallying. “Oh, we have people like that too. Where they just use and abuse others?” She almost asked why he’d bothered, but then remembering her own predicament, cast a frown for them both. “Is there a way to get them something so they don’t need your sister?” Kill two birds with one stone and all that? “I can always wander around the market for you too.” Like last time, with the pastries. And probably find a couple of those as well, while she was at it.
Thereafter though, the inquiry ensured her eyes were bits of gold and ember; an eager inferno to catch and spread. Her tones were bitter, laced with some acidic quality that hadn’t been heard or reverberated upon in quite some time. “Helped a god with massacring a lot of people in our old land.” And oh look, was the same thing happening again, considering the way Kiada had embroiled and ingratiated herself with the Voice? So much for learning from any actions or mistakes.
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
He nodded agreement with her description as he rose up in the water, then paused and let himself sink down again. "Perhaps not... abuse," he conceded. "But use, yes." Her suggestion earned another thoughtful dunking as he swam low in the water for a little ways, keeping his head just far enough out to be able to hear her. Finally he came up again with a regretful flick of his whip-like tail tip.
"No... not that comes to mind. But perhaps we will find something in the market." And more sweets for themselves, to ease the annoyance of their errand.
There was something about the pastries, in fact...
The thought began to swirl in the back of his mind as he turned his attention back to Melita and her antagonist's actions. Which were, actually, quite a lot to take in. He blinked before asking: "Perhaps a rock would make a better gift, then?" he suggested solemnly as they came to the market's edges.
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
“Yeah. A big rock. On fire. Right upside her head.” Unbothered that her murderous intentions had been said out loud, the youth and her litany of companions followed suit, meandering along the side of the canals. Pastries weren’t on her mind on the moment, not with a vengeful streak flickering and flowing through her veins, bestial and murderous. Her hands clenched and unclenched several times, clearly wishing she had a weapon in her grasp, and not just bunched along in the bag over her shoulder.
The bazaar still had its appeal though, with a variety of goods to reflect the season, and she stuck close to the ones at the front, describing the stalls the mer wouldn’t be able to see from his vantage point. “We’ve got…drinks, some little bauble things, wooden figurines…,” trailing off every so often, waiting for him to decide if any of those were to his liking, or to meander and move on.
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
"Indeed," he agreed contentedly, pleased that he and Melita were thinking along the same track. Hadama might not have been as casually murderous as the honeybee girl by nature, but the ocean tended to a certain fierce pragmatism in those who traveled outside the City's protections.
The bazaar brought its usual distractions from the annoyances of would-be brothers-in-law and genocidal henchwomen, and Hadama looked with interest at what he could see - and listened to what he couldn't. Each mundane suggestion earned a negative shake of his head until the thought from earlier began to coalesce.
"The drinks... hmm. Not quite. But.. are there any small, waterproof boxes?" he asked slowly, a gleam of mischief beginning to shine in an emerald eye.
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
Catching the gleam in his eye, the youth snickered. “I can check!” Within half a moment, she and companions had raced off, checking and inspecting wares. Just as quickly and efficiently, she perused the stall and signs, snagging at the information provided and presided by the marketgoers and kiosk-owner, before parading back to Hadama in return – keeping the baubles in the back of her mind, for future picking over.
“They do.” Her head tilted, bemused. “Do you want me to grab you one?” The inquiry of what did you have in mind stung and strung itself along her mind, but she reined in the impetuous question before it could take hold. Maybe it was a wait and see instant anyway.
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
He watched the bright-haired woman head off on her hunt, the menagerie trailing behind in a curious and delightful train of color and different modes of locomotion. Settling patiently down into the water he soothed his throat and watched the various people passing by with quiet interest until she returned.
Rising up to meet her, he nodded with solemn pleasure at her confirmation. One hand dipped into the pouch at his side and emerged with a bracelet of small circles of mother of pearl which he offered Melita to use in her bartering. "Please. And then let us find some pastries to put in it," he suggested, deep voice suspiciously bland. "For the real gift." But he watched her face as he spoke, hoping she would see the hook beneath the worm.
they should have checked the ashes of the women they burned alive
Taking the offered barter, this time some beautiful pearls, her eyes flickered back from her palm and towards Hadama, a twist of confusion in her brows. Perhaps she had missed something, or wasn’t making the connection between vengeance and favored food. “Wait. We’re not giving the pastries to them? Right?” She sure as hell wasn’t wasting a damn good blend of dough and confection and flavor on Kiada.
Unless there was poison in it…
Further speculation gave her some notion of pondering, tilting her head vaguely, much like a confused animal, but she’d learned not to jump too far into conclusions (kinda), so she waited for the answer before darting off into other semblances.
because it takes a single wild ember to bring a whole wildfire to life
"It will be a waste," he admitted, mischief fading into a quiet sigh of regret. "Other suggestions are welcome." He looked up at Melita's tilted head and only then realized that he had lost her.
"If the pastries are in the waterproof box, they will be safe from the sea." It was the problem he'd had before, with transporting the bag of them down to the beach without getting them wet in the canal water. "But if he opens the box underwater, they will become inedible." Not the traditional method of poisoning; it was more of a metaphorical gesture in this case. "I do not think he is smart enough to bring the box to the surface to open." he added drily. His opinion of his sister's paramour was not particularly high. "But it is possible. So the gift is still... sincere." Hadama met Mel's gaze calmly, waiting for her reaction or suggestions.
