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!
Dawn is a strange time to approach a shrine to Mort and Ludo, or perhaps that is just the way most see it. Nevertheless, dawn is when Ronin sneaks from the houseboat and strolls through the trees, relishing the fingers of warm light that stretch through gaps in the branches to paint his skin.
It is only as he reaches the two trees with their white candles that he realises how long it has been, if ever, that he has approached another herald or god, and he can only hope that Safrin forgives him. Because this is something for Remi, not for himself.
"Good morning," he murmurs, clearing his throat and setting down his offerings among the roots of the trees; a small wooden puzzle for Ludo and a box of fragrant tea leaves for Mort. "I am sorry to bother you - either of you. Remi doesn't know I've come out here. But I was hoping I might speak to you... about him."
Dawn's fingertips seem to stretch and then grow lazy, deciding perhaps that staying in bed was preferable to heralding in the day. At least, this is how it would seem to Ronin. As the Huntsman waited, the air would grow still as the quality and colour of the light around him stayed the same. Deer and other such skittish animals who shouldn't normally be so bold, began to stroll through the numerous paths leading through the trees, going about their business as if they were the only ones in the woods. Birds tittered and fluttered as a pair of foxes gave chase to a rabbit who suddenly turned about and began to chase the foxes instead in what was clearly a game of tag.
"Good morning." Said the God of death, holding two cups of tea. The mugs were horribly made clay disasters with smudged colours dolloped on the side, clearly made by a child's hand. Blowing on the rim of his as he held it out for Ronin, Mort smiled warmly. "A good day always starts with a cup of tea, don't you think?"
At first it doesn't even seem as though anything is happening, and Ronin stands with his hands clasped and his head bowed, until the hazy nature of the morning becomes somewhat obvious. Blue eyes blink as if in a dream, and he gazes around to see prey chasing predators, and deer close enough to touch. And touch them he does, fingers reaching out to brush against soft muzzles, until the God of Death speaks and he twitches enough to send one clumsily trotting back.
"Oh--" he says, swallowing hard as he beholds the young man who could not possibly be Ludo, purely by virture of making things feel calm and right. And, you know, holding out the tea. "Good morning. I... Yes, yes of course. Thank you." He accepts the cup, bumps and splodges of colour and all, and smiles down into the tea. "Is this real?" he asks softly.
Mort's smile is one sided, his lips bordered by smile lines despite how youthful he otherwise looked. It always took a moment for his identity to be understood and then depending on the situation, either panic, confusion, or joy would normally follow.
"Is the tea real?" Mort intentionally misunderstands, beaming up at Ronin. "It is. A special brew that I've made myself, in fact, though I'm very keen to try yours." He says, turning his gaze towards the small satchel of tea Ronin had brought. Then, with a boyish chime of laughter, Mort rolls his eyes affectionately. "Oh, you mean this." Glancing around them to indicate the world they may or may not be in, Mort shrugs his shoulders. "What does real even mean? And I don't mean that in the philosophical sense, either. This is something you will remember, an encounter that has actually taken place. You aren't dreaming me, if that's what you're worried about." He adds reassuringly in a voice that's as soft and honeyed as his eyes.
Ronin barely remembers to roll the clay cup in his hands to keep them from burning, even as his eyes continue to drink in the scene around them; the sun dappled ground, the creatures in harmony, Mort in all his youthful wonder. The god's answer both does and doesn't help, and it's only the tug of something deep within him that stops him from gushing a hundred inane questions, ones that the deity has probably already heard.
"I... Oh," he says, inhaling deeply and taking a sip of tea to gather himself, feeling instantly soothed by the warm liquid. "Thank you for seeing me," he says, lowering the cup - and his gaze. "I was hoping I could speak to you about Remi. He mentioned meeting you before, and I have never seen him so at peace. But it never lasts. The peace, I mean."
Mort's smile is as golden as ever, though it's sadness that deepens his dimples now as he hears Ronin out. "Peace rarely does, outside of death." He agrees with a slow nod. "It's why I am always so eager to bring you all to me, because only my realm offers you the peace you so crave, but here..." Mort looks around, his eyes seeing far more than what there was. "..the peace that Remi felt with me has no chance of lasting." The god admits with a soft sigh.
"It is why I am so hesitant to appear these days, especially as conflict draws closer." Mort adds, looking down into his tea. "I fear my presence only encourages a sprint towards death once those around me realize what a welcome rest it would bring them." The God continues, appearing wounded by the content of his own words. "But for Remi..for any who are constantly so near death...have you ever wondered why Ludo is so fond of games? If things which bring it joy? For both Ludo and Remi alike, the shadow of death is always so near, and yet there's no consolation in it, because it is not a place they are able to permanently find themselves."
The sadness strikes like a chord out of tune deep within Ronin's chest, and even though his eyes are on his tea, he hears and feels it as though Mort were whispering the words directly against his heart. Taking another sip of his drink as if that will better allow him to converse with the god, Ronin looks up at last, solemn and respectful. "I know how they feel," he says softly, glancing around the glade once more and feeling himself want to sink into it, to sit and linger and simply be.
And were he here on his own behalf, he might well have reached out to embrace it fully, to at least enjoy this rest while Mort brings it. Alas, Ronin (always, always) has work to do. As the conversation turns to Ludo, though, to the nature of the herald and the way it behaves, and the way Remi behaves in a similar fashion, the Huntsman feels a tightness in his throat again.
Honestly, he thought Ludo was just a shit, but this... it makes a lot of sense. "I don't know how to help him," he admits, blinking quickly. "To help him find the things that... that bring him joy. Not after so much change, so much death. Every part of him now seems honed to be..." Monstrous. He doesn't want to say it. But Mort will doubtlessly hear it nonetheless.
"And I love him," he adds quickly, as if that was ever in question, "I do. But sometimes it feels like that is the only thing holding back all the darkness. What if it isn't enough?"
“Ludo has created something truly ingenious in making Remi what he is.” Rarely had Caido been witness to such power or strength, and to allow such a weapon to become nearly invulnerable to anyone but you…” There is pride in Mort’s voice only insofar that he adores Ludo as any parent might, but that isn’t to say that Ronin’s choice of monstrous wasn’t truly apt.
“Do you know what keeps Vi breathing life into the things Rae creates? Even when those things have the potential to do truly terrible things while they are alive?” Mort asks looking down, but not into his tea, but rather at the cup it was in. “Each and every one of you is a love letter to me, unique in its own way, each with its own story of triumph and failure.” Smiling deeply, Mort pauses for a moment before continuing. “But for Vi…the responsibility of his creations while they are alive is enormous. The weight of it…” Though Mort’s smile doesn’t falter, it changes to one of unfettered appreciation and devotion. “All that is to say that I understand what it is to know that only your love keeps them going. Keeps them from giving up on it all.” Mort chuckles. “I am sure that doesn’t sound entirely relatable coming from me, though.” He admits with a soft shake of his head.
“Of all of Remi’s shifts…are they all predators, do you know? All made in service of what Ludo requires of him?”
"And I hope it is very proud," Ronin says, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice as his gaze drops back into his half-drunk cup of tea. Quite when his cheeks have become wet he doesn't know, but there's no point hiding his emotions from Mort of all people. Especially to hear a love story mirrored in the voice and experiences of a god. Of the god, when it came to endings and rest, to wheels coming full circle.
"Relatable? Perhaps not. I am not sure how I feel, knowing that the things we struggle with go beyond the mortal." Or mostly mortal, in the case of the Remis and Ronins of the world. Taking another sip of tea and wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hand, it's with a surprised expression that he glances back up at Mort, racking his brain.
"I... yes, I believe so. He had other shifts, softer ones, before he was a demigod. But Ludo took those. Hawk, manticore, kraken..." Even wraith and ifrit. All of them feed a predator's soul, and with each addition, the alchemist has grown more frayed.
“I know.” Mort soothes, nodding. Reassurances of the kind that have to do with it all being part of a bigger picture are not in the god’s vocabulary, and so instead he bridges the gap between he and Ronin to slip his arm around the other man’s shoulders. “I know.” Mort’s fingers tighten against Ronin’s shoulder, infusing the Huntsman with love and ease, though not in an effort to erase Ronin’s sadness and grief, but merely to make the load easier for him to bear.
“Perhaps then we could protect a small piece of his soul, and mark it solely as something meant not for death. To have something soft and easy come from within him instead of from you.” Mort suggests, tilting his head thoughtfully at Ronin. “Is there anything like that you could think of?”
Ronin tenses at first, because lightening the load means admitting how heavy it is, and he's not sure he'll be able to stop if he starts letting that out. But the god is all around him and it's impossible not to feel anything but okay in Mort's presence, and Ronin presses his eyes shut to try and stop any further tears from falling. "Sorry," he mumbles automatically, sniffing and trying to pull himself together.
With his hands still squeezing around the clay mug, Ronin blinks his eyes back open to look up at the god. "Would that help, do you think...?" he asks. "I... well, there was one he enjoyed, I suppose. But it was..." He hesitates to say useless, because that's not right. But a furry, masked face and a ringed tail isn't much good for anything other than mischief, and the Huntsman is already smiling lopsidedly at the thought. "I just want him to feel better."
“No, no.” Mort soothes, and though the god is actually shorter than Ronin, still he’ll feel colossal next to the demigod. “You never need to apologize to me.”
Pulling in a breath, Mort considers. “Imagine that the soul is a circle. It can be divided and divided to accommodate all the things forced upon it - both those it welcomes and those it is forced to endure. The largest part of Remi’s soul is inflexibly devoted to you, while the rest is a carefully curated assortment of horrors that has only one purpose. You are not wrong to to think that your love is certainly what keeps the darkness in check, but if we were to insert just a small fragment into the darkness…it would force the darkness to become just that much smaller, and provide a wedge within Remi that wasn’t reliant on you.”
09-24-2022, 07:54 PM (This post was last modified: 09-24-2022, 07:54 PM by Ronin.)
RONIN
the darkstar
light is easy to love.
Ronin feels an immediate need to protest, but of course there is no need when it comes to Mort - especially when it comes to Mort. And so, stepping back enough to listen to the god, the Huntsman fights to understand the god's meaning. And, bit by bit, he thinks it starts to dawn on him. "So by giving him something that isn't made just to fulfil Ludo's purpose, he can have some light of his own...?" he tries, a spark of determination lighting up in his face.
"What do I need to do?" he asks. "To help him get that kind of shift back? I'll make time, even with the war. If he needs part of my soul, he can have it." To call it desperation would be an insult to the devotion Ronin feels towards his partner, but he's sincere and earnest nonetheless.
“Ludo did what it thought best when moulding Remi to suit its needs, but when it was alive, it didn’t have the chance to experience some of the more nuanced aspects of life.” Mort says apologetically. “I hope you will not hold this against it.” He adds. “But yes, I think protecting a piece of Remi’s soul so that there is light in him that does not rely on you or his purpose will help him in times of darkness.”
Mort twitches his lips back and forth, his forehead creasing with the intensity of his concentration. “I fear that this is going to more than I should ask of you…but if you are really serious about this…here is what you must do.” Looking back and forth as if to ensure that it really was just the two of them, Mort clears his throat and lowers his voice considerably. “In order to do this for Remi, you must…finish your tea.”
