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 gardens are sprawling and endless. Quite where they began Phoebe won't know, but with every step through the fragrant grasses she will feel invigorated, as though she has only just discovered this little piece of paradise. Trees laden with fruit line her wild little pathway, hanging low overhead, and her fingers will brush against honeysuckle and foxgloves as she strolls.
Of course, gardens are not all innocent, and there are snarls of brambles and deadlier gifts to be found here. But their bounty is no less generous for their danger, and Phoebe, there is so much to see. So much abundance, so much joy. Why don't you stay a little longer?
She had been scouting a place for the baby garden when she happened on the beautiful place she found herself now. It seemed more than a garden, more like a dream made real. Everything was so fragrant and soft, even the bramble pricks seemed hardly noticeable. Phoebe was lost to it, admiring lotuses and rose petals at every turn.
When had she gotten there again? It was but a passing thought as she roamed. Only when she splayed her hand against her abdomin did she begin to pull from the dream. It was flat, not rounded with child. A chill went down her spine. She really must be caught up in some dream! She was pregnant, her stomach distended not flattened!
She had to get out. With determination she pressed forward, looking for a path out of the garden instead of its delicate blooms.
Aw, but Phoebe, you haven't even gotten to the orchids yet. Heat ripples and flows across her skin, warm and heavy and inticing, and the heavy scent of flowers overlays the honeysweet smell of fruits and nectar. The orchids dance in the soft breeze, waving their colouful heads like little lions beckoning her closer.
The garden is not finished playing with the Nightingale yet, and surely she can stay just a little bit longer. For old times sake, Phoebe?
If the demigoddess looks closely she might perhaps make out a break in the trees where maybe a pathway might lead out of the gardens. But where's the fun in that?
Oh and the orchids were so beautiful. And erotic. She thought for a moment that Frey would appreciate a potted bouquet of them. Subtle, beautiful, and suited to their taste. She looked at her hands. Sadly she had no such pot or trowel to pot them in.
Her hand wandered to her abdomen again and the panic refreshed. Her baby!
Glancing up she saw the break in the treeline. Or did she? The demigoddess squinted and indeed it seemed there was a way out of the garden. So ever so reluctantly she left the beautiful Frey inspired orchids and headed towards the exit.
The gardens seem to sigh as Phoebe begins to peel herself out of their grasp. As the heady breeze wafts through the tree branches, its as though they're whispering for her not to go. Because there's so much more for such a lovely young lady for her to see - all she needs to do is go and look. Hedge mazes and topiaries and hidden, secret little ponds to frolic in, all just for you Phoebe--
But alas she is making her way to the break in the trees, and their grasp on her is fading quickly. With every step the scents grow fainter, the trees seem further away, the beautiful blooms grow smaller and weaker, until... until...
Until Phoebe stands in Meadowreach, at what ought to be the height of Flowerbirth. But there is snow on the ground, and the budding carpet of flowers is nowhere to be seen. And neither is the garden that existed so vividly just a moment ago.
Phoebe peeled herself away from the garden as reluctantly as she could. Her baby would always take precedence, no magic was powerful enough to supercede that. Not after two miscarriages, not when a baby was all that she wanted for years.
And before she knew it she was in a snowy meadow. She blinked, mind clearing. Harper. Harper. She needed to find him. And from there she started off at a sprint.
