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 forger gives Deimos and Evie a helpless look when the tooth emerges from the intense heat of the fire with nothing more than a surface level scorch. He shrugs and hands it over to Evie, clearly marveling at how lightweight it is despite how it had survived the fires. “I’m sorry Warden, it doesn’t seem to have any effect.” Evie waves away the apology gracefully, having suspected it would happen and not wanting the man to question his own expertise.
“That’s quite alright. Would you mind using your tools regardless while it’s still hot? Perhaps we can try to superheat it with magic, and have you try to shape it then?” Her eyes flicker sideways to Deimos with an arched brow, questioning and offering at the same time. She’d contemplated having him doing it in the tundra, just the two of them, but she thought it best to interact with the people together in their new roles first. Then they could go out beyond the Citadel’s crowded streets and blast it with magic like children.
I see you when you chase the dreams inside your head and when you laugh and love until the bitter end
Deimos interacted with the public daily – but it’d been in another role, and this one still didn’t fit quite right across his shoulders. Nonetheless, his eyes watched the heat of the fire, the maelstrom of the modest inferno ensconced in a forger’s tracings, careful not to follow and chase after the bombardments with his own instinctual conflagration. He hadn’t been asked by either blacksmith nor Evergreen, so the arch of his brow followed her movements too, speculating, narrowing, as he leaned against the wall. “Interesting,” he added, despite his suspicions, intuition, ponderings, and experience on the latter.
Tilting his head, studying and reflecting, he motioned towards the farrier with a line of his jaw. “Have you ever seen anything like it?” Only thereafter, at the tacit permission from Evie, did the Sword advance from the timber surface, relinquishing flame to bite and chase at the tooth with merely his presence. Not much, but enough, for tools to bombard, for incantations to reside, for the powers to aim and preside.
It fits strangely for the both of them, and that’s why Evie tries to make a pointed effort to adjust to hearing people call her by a title instead of a name. It’s entirely selfish the way she asks Deimos to come along with her, but she knows they’ll both enjoy the destruction and mayhem she has planned for them after this visit and couldn’t turn down the opportunity.
The heat of the forge makes her a little overly warm so she strips her jacket and lays it over her arm, listening keenly as Deimos makes his inquiries. “No, sir. I’ve seen teeth before, but never this big, and the smaller ones aren’t good for forging anyway.” Evie nods more to herself than anyone else at the response. It makes sense; smaller teeth certainly didn’t have these kinds of properties, they were used far more regularly in crafting and jewelry.
The Evergreen watches with a hint of a smile as Deimos introduces his magic to the process, always eager to see him at work, wielding magic on a level she’s never seen from anyone else. The forgemaster is a true Halovian, undaunted by the magic itself nor the inclusion of it in his work; he goes about striking the tooth with his hammer as if to shape it, working at it for a consistent few rounds of blows before he pulls away with a shrug. Evie leans in, knowing Deimos wouldn’t burn her even if he did pull back late. “Not even a scratch,” she marvels out loud, watching the tooth glow slightly from the heat it had absorbed.
I see you when you chase the dreams inside your head and when you laugh and love until the bitter end
Unaware of future mischief, endeavors, and intended destruction, he could only parse through the semblances of their modest journey amidst the people of Halo as just that. He wasn’t surprised by the forger’s response, nodding along with the flare of fire and the measure of tools, quietly and carefully observant. He surmised, much like the scale tucked away in his bag, that most people stayed and strayed away from the massive beasts – not foolishly finding themselves embroiled amongst chaotic semblances (unlike the two Wardens), and wouldn’t have experience with these gargantuan creations. “Makes sense,” and he gave a small smile towards the Evergreen over the heated blaze of the fire. Divine interventions and ridiculous intentions seemed to have awarded her with a worthy device.
And when nothing could be done to it – no mark from a tool, no penchant from the heat of his infernal etchings (even if they’d been modest and not the full force of his power), the grin notched its way to a smirk. “Thank you for trying,” he rumbled towards the blacksmith. The flames dimmed under his command, until they were muted and diminished, back into the echoes of his veins, an arch to his brow as he glanced back at Evie – silent inquiries, perhaps, about what was next in store.
Fate seems to have designs on Evie’s life, and though she had dreamed vaguely of such a thing in her youth, it’s far less glamorous when experienced. Still, it does seem to have its perks in the form of physical rewards and nearly-magical items. Some assembly required of course. Returning Deimos’ smile, the Evergreen decides it’s worth it in the end.
The forger nods at the given thanks, but seems mildly relieved when Evie retrieves the tooth from the anvil. A few muttered regards and goodbyes, and he is back to work the moment they step out of his shop. Holding the deceivingly lightweight tooth beneath her arm, Evie nudges Deimos with her free elbow and flicks her eyes down the pathway towards the outskirts of the Citadel. The opposite direction of both the Hall and the Barracks. “I have an idea, care to join me?” And though she strives to hide it, a glimmer of mischief persists in blue eyes as they rise to find Deimos’.
I see you when you chase the dreams inside your head and when you laugh and love until the bitter end
Tooth taken with more options gleaned and gone, the Sword nodded towards the forger in more gratitude and departure, before they left, angled precariously beyond the confining Hall or the comfortable Barracks. His brow arched in return, not missing the mischief, pondering if this was to further his interest in whatever plans lay waiting. “Depends on what it is,” because if there were plots to trick him into paperwork, then it would be swiftly denied. Deimos could always find something else to do than be stuffed away in an office, immediately looking for the nearest exit.
And perhaps there was a tease in his tones too, for while trust and faith had always been extended to Evie, the modicum of devilry and shenanigans also laid in the roots and foundations of their relationship. Uncertainty and ploys could very well be something innocent, or completely entangled, knotted, complex and seditious.
For all her prowess with paperwork, Deimos would have to irk her considerably for her to even consider tricking him into it under the guise of a fun excursion. In fact, considering her slight possessiveness over the system she is implementing to track Halo’s days on paper, it would likely only make them both miserable.
No, today there is only childish glee to be found in her face, badly smothered. “Want to test this thing in a more fun way?” Their kind of fun. Already she is beginning to slowly walk towards the end of the road, where the shops and houses thin into empty fields before the walls climb towards the sky. Enticing, teasing, with how she wordlessly threatens to leave him behind should he not choose fast enough.
I see you when you chase the dreams inside your head and when you laugh and love until the bitter end
There were moments of hesitation, even if he could be easily swayed by airs of mischief and promises of sedition. His eyes flickered back and forth, from the path, to the barracks, and to the hall, as if the call of responsibility and duty wove in a vicious game. They tackled his mind and scurried along the denizens, pondering over everything left to accomplish, if he’d had enough time to ensure sanctity amidst the citizens for the next hour or so, or if he was already bending to the age-old, primordial wakes of what he’d used to be. Buried and burrowed and hollowed out from days, months, and years of placing everyone else above, and himself below.
Of caving in.
It was only the residual thought of last moments that spurned down his spine and caused a heaving breath, the acceptance, the notions, that it was okay to have more than a few moments spent in Evie’s company and not careening around Halo. Or sketching out another design. Or implementing another weapon. Or scolding renegade warriors. Or –
“And what would that be?” As he took steps forward anyway, following, steps still feeling all the more weighted down as they wandered past shops and houses, towards endless snowy paths and ruins.
Come with me, she selfishly wants to say, only just managing to keep it restrained to her thoughts. And though her feet slowly venture down the cobblestone path, there is a patience in her visage that tells Deimos there are no real expectations. She wants him to make the choice for himself, to accept that they’re allowed this. The weight on their shoulders may have grown, but they did not have to lose themselves to the titles they’d taken up.
He follows in her wake, and the Evergreen smiles until her dimples pop as the stalemate is broken. She spins on her heel to lead the way, though not too far to make it difficult to turn her cheek to answer him. “I think we should hit it with everything we’ve got; it’s light enough to be a kickball, just a little uniquely shaped.” They could get creative with their imagination for that part. Hopefully it would be a good expulsion of energy and emotion for Deimos as well. While she can sense the sap dragging at his limbs, she can only do so much as his partner - in all ways - to help him free himself. Any more would be denying his agency and expectations for himself.
I see you when you chase the dreams inside your head and when you laugh and love until the bitter end
The allowance and freedom would come with time – or in the interims where he permitted it to weigh out the balance of titles and responsibilities. Choked down by rubble and the past was not how he’d deigned to go about life in the surrounding years, striving to make those smaller steps into greater, grander strides; and sometimes even an inch felt like a mile. There were no shackles. No chains. No irons clasped around his feet. No noose bound around his throat. Nothing holding and tying him to desks or heads bowed against the grain of another duty, another tact -
History could be a reminder, but it didn’t need to repeat so harshly.
His piercing eyes took in the alteration of her character, snorting out a refrain otherwise bit back behind teeth and jaws; the proposal far more intriguing than turning back the way they’d come and barking at another soldier. The promise of power and might, of unfurling those restless pools beneath scarred flesh and marrow and bone ensured his limbs carried him closer, until he was no longer following, but along her side. “All right,” carried on his low rumble in agreement, as the gates opened up, as the Tundra remained before them – pristine, save for the rolling hills and the dotting of tree lines and caves.
Machinations had already begun – but for amusements and might’s sake. “Throw it,” was a dare and a smirk, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Whether it’s distance from the Citadel, time to acclimate to the idea, or some other internal force, Evie can see the loosening of his shoulders and gait as he accompanies her out to the walls. So long as she can see his smile, she knows all is well.
The world opens up to them, and with it comes the bite of cold as they exit the dome. It’s worth it for the expansiveness of the tundra beyond, empty and awaiting their juvenile antics. Deimos seems just as ready, and Evie matches his grin with one of her own. She’d known this would be good for him, knew him too well not to, but seeing him brighten and sharpen is a reward unto itself.
Obligingly, she gets both hands around the tooth, grateful for its minimal weight - and then she throws it with all her might (and a little extra oomph from her magic) into the piercing grey of the sky.
I see you when you chase the dreams inside your head and when you laugh and love until the bitter end
The idea of stretching his power out across the Tundra always loomed; an ever-present, ready source of might and brawn over the restless edges of his meticulous nature. A fond freedom in the rapacity of a tenacious spirit, waiting, eagerly, watching as Evie adhered to the tones, to the necessity in unfurling, uncoiling, unraveling.
And so it flew, and he watched as the ivory proportions could’ve blended into the sky, into the grey abyss, into the furrows of clouds and angles of horizons. He would’ve sought it out easily without its displaced contortions, like the hound nestled within, or the chords of other predators barely leashed beneath his skin. Instead, it was the incantations contorting together, bunching at the seams of his ichor, released into the void – a series of sharpened, lacerated spears galvanized in icicle form, spread amongst themselves, relishing the serrated edges of impact.
Piercing exactitude had always been his ambition and goal: and he watched as they laced and lanced, with nothing to show for it. Not a mark. Not a scratch.
There was a slight rumble of laughter as he tilted his head, before his eyes caught hers again. “Your turn.” And from there, he picked up the bounty with his Air enchantments, permitting her the same opportunity.
Despite how many times she has seen his magic, had it used against her, there’s something humbling about seeing the full might of it unleashed in intentional, weighted assault. Evie would never trust Deimos any less than she always has, but she can see why he is so equally admired and feared. Can only hope to someday stand on even a fraction of the scale that he does.
As such, she gives a self-conscious little laugh when he says it’s her turn. Objections don’t even have time to form before he is snagging the tooth with a clever curl of wind and hiking it into the air for her to target. Evie does not have as many abilities as he does, so she has to get creative. Rubble by the walls from previous attacks and stone replacements are snagged and heaved, telekinesis and earth in conjunction, and she rains down the heavy stone in a barrage against the tooth. Knowing it will do nothing but laughing at the chaos all the same as the stone breaks apart on the tooth’s surface and sprinkles down over the snow. “My magic definitely can’t do any damage,” she laughs, humble but unafraid to be. She drags the tooth from his hold to bib it about in the air, as if it will be much harder for him. “Come on, something showy!” It’s an eager encouragement, wanting to witness Deimos’ skills out here where nobody else can.
I see you when you chase the dreams inside your head and when you laugh and love until the bitter end
Raw power could always be admired – but he’d never have the healing proportions that Evie, and many others, conveyed. Too drawn into the wakes of darker fulfillments, his way of mending and assuaging were barrages, assaults, and sieges, ensuring nothing touched those he cherished. No way to coax another on the brink, no way to unravel the persistent lacerations or the unholy scars. So perhaps both were to be rendered in esteem and regard; even upon opposing ends.
So he watched with the fringes of his smile as rubble maneuvered and spun, her own abilities growing with each passing day. Practice and skill, precision and might, with the weight of unbidden traces, out of range of judgement and free to reign, could always compel more mastery. The barrage of stone met tooth and still the enamel remained justifiably sound – cracking another grin so that the whites of his teeth shown in boyish amusement. “Not with that attitude,” and he winked, nose wrinkling in an attempt to rile and rankle.
As for something showy – he arched a brow, but readied the demonstration just the same. Summoning one of his favorites, despite using it earlier, it was to a greater, grander scale that the inferno seared and soared into the air. Upon touching the chilling winds, it changed and altered at his command, beckoning and summoning twists and turns that ensured his mighty control and bestial demands, boundaries of barbarity existing and welled inside his heart and soul. First, with the semblance of a phoenix, breathing fire down upon the ivory fragment, before changing, rapidly, quickly, into a dragon, and then a hellhound.
