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!
Edmund sniffled as he eyed the water in front of him. Part of him wished that he'd never made that promise to his Mummy. Now that it'd been made, he couldn't back out. As such, he knew that he needed to come up with another plan. If he couldn't age up to physically be there to protect his Mum, then he had to think of something else.
The child let out a heavy sigh as he burrowed his head tighter into his knees. He just didn't know what to do! He was so small. Too small. There wasn't much that he could offer. But he had to think of something. He had to help. He just had to.
Harper isn’t intentionally looking for Edmund when he comes across the boy. With all of Torchline’s moving parts and individuals to keep track of, Harper nevertheless keeps a stringent eye on the young boy’s schedule - including the habits and favorite spots that deviated from those set times of play dates and school hours. So when Edmund doesn’t arrive after school as planned, admittedly Harper adjusts his evening patrol check-in to swing by the boy’s favorite haunts.
And, well, lo and behold.
It’s clear he’s upset about something, and Harper doesn’t plan on twiddling his thumbs about it. Gracefully lowering himself next to Edmund in the sand, he bumps shoulders gently with the boy, head tilted closer to the child’s level. Wholly focused on him without physically crowding. “Hey buddy,” he says softly, smile warm but eyes understanding. Instead of immediately forcing the issue with a question that most any child would evade or deny, Harper turns to look out at the water. “I noticed you didn’t come straight home after school. I know it’s a little too cold still to swim - something on your mind?” Forearms rest comfortably atop his knees as he gazes over the horizon. Letting the unspoken offer to talk hang there without being conspicuous or overbearing.
Edmund looked up at the sound of footsteps, tensing before he relaxed upon recognizing the figure. "Hi Uncle Harper", he greets with none of his usual enthusiasm as the man sits beside him. He'd gotten used to the man's presence since he had been around so often lately. Edmund even found comfort in Harper's presence at this point.
As such, the unspoken question is enough to get the child to open up at least a bit. "I hate how small I am." Edmund mumbled the words into his knees as he moved to lean against Harper's shoulder. "I hate that I'm small and can't do everything that I need to do. But I promised Mummy, so I can't change it."
From the first response Harper can tell there’s something wrong. Edmund is despondent at best, and even without the benefit of knowing the boy and being able to keenly read body language, the tone alone is a red flag. In many ways it’s a blessing that Edmund feels comfortable talking to him freely - or with people in general - because it takes no further prodding for him to open up.
As the boy leans into him Harper wraps an arm gently around him to pull him closer, humming softly to show he’s both listening and understanding. “I think you’re perfectly the right size. What is it you think you need to be doing?” Often children had an idea in mind they needed to be more like the adults around them, but with Frey’s ability to age them, it was a far riskier problem than he remembers it being in the modern world he came from. So first he needed to figure out exactly what Edmund thought the vague, elusive future of “older” held for him.
Edmund sunk into the hug without complaint. He trusted Harper and the offered comfort was appreciated. When the man prodded him to explain, Edmund sighed. "I just... I want to help." He looked at the man imploringly, "How am I supposed to help keep my Mummy and friends and Torchline safe if I'm so little?"
Emund glanced down at his own hands with a twisted expression, "I'm only big enough to do small errands." Too small to do be anything but a burden. Too small to protect, too small to help with even the smaller war efforts. He couldn't even help with construction or major supplies runs because of his size. Granted the child wasn't aware of what half of these things were at times, but he still knew that there was more he could be doing if he were bigger.
"I promised Mummy that I wouldn't age up past sixteen." The child added after a pause. "So I won't. But what if... I aged up just a little bit? Enough that I could actually help...?" The question was more so directed at himself, Harper simply being the soundboard for him get his thoughts out.
Harper listens attentively, hand stroking idle shapes of comfort on Edmund’s arm. And only once the boy has worn himself out of words does he speak. “What would you do to help, then? What would that look like to you?” The question is gentle and unassuming, with no intonations to sway the boy’s answer.
“You said you want to help keep your mom and Torchline safe, but we have soldiers, and the council members, and Safrin’s healing fountain and Stargate,” he points out, knowing how deep Edmund’s love for the herald runs. Must be genetic. “Do you not trust in those things?” He doubts that’s the case, but Harper wants to lay a basis of information and leading questions first, make the boy examine his own desires and reasonings.
The look Edmund sends Harper is positively scandalized, "Of course I do! Lady Safrin would never fail us in such a way." Letting out a humph, the child folds his hands across his chest. "I just meant that I want to be more than just someone who has to be protected. Not a burial... eh...burden.. but an ass...? No not an ass, that's a donkey. What's the word?" The phrase wasn't coming to him at the moment, the words too difficult for his young self.
"But you get what I mean, right? Right now, all I can do is be protected. Maybe small errands. I want to be big enough for more. I'm not asking to be a soldier I mean." Edmund fiddles with his fingers as he thinks about just what being 'helpful' could include. "If I were just a little bigger, I could move on my own. I could carry supplies and messages. And help protect the other kids if anything ever reached us."
Harper hums understandingly, feigning being properly chastised, and privately amused at how Edmund sticks both feet right into the proverbial trap. Not that he reveals it so soon of course; the boy doesn’t seem to run out of things to say on the topic. So he waits yet again for the flow to turn to a trickle, wanting to interject at the right moment.
Seeing the boys fingers fiddling anxiously, Harper squeezes him a smidge closer with the arm wrapped around his shoulders, and his other hand settles gently over those little hands. “Edmund, look at me?” he requests softly, and if the boy does he’ll find a warm, understanding smile.
“I’ve been in a lot of wars. They make people feel a lot of things all at once; what you’re feeling is totally normal. You want to help, you want to do more, because sitting around and worrying hurts.” Even if all Edmund is old enough to understand is that his brain rejects the notion. “Being bigger or older just to run messages or supplies wouldn’t matter. We have adults for that. And nothing would ever come to you kids, because Safrin has ensured you will all be safe no matter what.” He pulls the Safrin card yet again, knowing there’s no way Edmund could object to the herald’s power. Gently rubbing the skin of Edmund’s hands, Harper levels him with a sincere look. “You’re not a baby, so I won’t tell you everything will be perfectly alright. But if we have to worry about you on top of fighting, that makes us distracted and more at risk of making mistakes. You’re already doing the right thing by staying out of it - why? Because it enables us to relax, to feel more confident in knowing that no matter what happens to us, you’ll be okay.” In his eyes Edmund is still so, so young, but undermining his maturity and independence would get Harper nowhere.
“And it already hurts us right here and now to see you worry and try to help. Do you know why?” He uses each word intentionally, so that Edmund knows the gravity of it all. That his potential actions have so much weight and potential for harm. “Because as parents our job is not just to keep you safe physically. It’s to make sure you’re happy, and have a good childhood. We see you worrying, and being upset about the war, and we see your childhood being effected. And we see ourselves failing you. And if you age a little more? Then those are years of your childhood we couldn’t give you either, and we’ve failed again.” Harper knows it’s common in Caido, but he can’t help but mourn every time he sees a child age overnight, all too aware of how precious those lost years are.
Edmund looks up to meet Harper's eyes and falls silent as the man speaks. It soothes something in him to have his emotions validated and to be ensured that what he's feeling is ok. Because frankly, the intensity of his own emotions lately has been difficult to deal with. Edmund hasn't worked up the courage yet to explain to his Mum why, but there's a reason why he's been taking all of the candles out of his room at night.
"Uncle Harper, I know what Lady Safrin did. And that's why I promised Mummy I wouldn't age past 16. I'd never break that promise." Edmund slides the comment in-between Harper's words with a tone far too firm for a child his age. The mere hint of him aging beyond what he promised making the child's brow furrow.
But then Harper continues, and Edmund feels his heart crack. There's so much there. So much in his words that the child can't fully fathom or piece together. But he can feel the pain in Harper as if it were his own. And he gets it. Wiggling away, Edmund lunges and wraps his arms around Harper's shoulder, resting his head on top of the man's in a downright protective hug.
"I understand. You haven't failed. Mummy hasn't failed either. Neither of you could ever fail me or Jude." Edmund states firmly, squeezing Harper a little tighter. "I'd never let you." That little spark within that had surged up like lava as his heart cracked, burns brighter.
His magic has always been linked to his emotions, and right now the need to comfort his family has it rising to the surface yet again. It burns though his veins in a soothing yet urging sensation, demanding he continue holding Harper until the man's apparent insecurities are burnt away.
Harper envelopes the boy as he is lunged at and embraced firmly, going so far as to turn and brace their legs together, nearly dragging the boy into his lap. He may not be Edmund’s father, but he loves him deeply, and though he is far more understanding than Maeve about Edmund’s motivations and desires to age and be helpful, he also doesn’t want to see the child put at risk.
The warmth of their embrace is decidedly unnatural, but it is far from dangerous, and Harper presses a kiss to Edmund’s head as the boy passionately disagrees. “And you could never fail us, not by staying safe. We love you, Edmund. Both of us. We will always try to protect you, that’s our job.” No matter how old he gets.
Withdrawing just enough to see Edmund’s face, Harper smiles gently, smoothing dark hair out of the boy’s face. “Now, how about we get ya home finally huh? Maybe you and I can hang out just the two of us, hm?” Standing, he offers his hand to Edmund to pull him up, glad to see the weight lifted from the boy’s shoulders that he’d seen when he’d first found the prince. It’s enough, for now. A temporary bandage at best, but a bandage all the same.
