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!
Water, sand, and coral. Simple items, some more easily collected than others. Hadama had spent a great deal of time thinking about where to place them beneath the stars, and in the end he had chosen the peaceful tranquility of the Miana Pool. It was one of his favorite places to visit the shore, and though it was still quite cold as the humans deemed it, he was well-adapted to the colder depths of the Arclight and was perfectly comfortable in his simple, elegant harness.
This night, as the sun slipped beneath the horizon and the first stars gleamed boldly overhead, he set a large wooden bowl atop a stone that rose from the water at the edge of the Pool. The rock itself was well out of the tide's grasp barring a storm, and the merman used his water magic to support himself comfortably as he took the ingredients from his pouches or harness and added to them bowl one after another.
Water from a stoppered jar.
Sand from a sealed driftwood box.
A piece of coral that he broke apart and scattered atop the rest before he mixed it all thoroughly with his hands, patient and thorough as ever.
What if we're all just sleeping satellites Why do we drift so far from home
The moon is just beginning to rise over the ocean as Harper ventures out across the sand. Maeve had seen him off with a silent, understanding look. He knows her ear is always open to his worried mind, but sometimes, the only cure for his chaotic brain and restless legs is a long walk along the shore. Even with his rigorous daily workout regiment, he can never seem to exhaust himself of the energy that years of training had drilled into him, and though patrols are scarcely a thing in Torchline he pretends his pacing is somewhat of an equivalent.
He’s not expecting to be totally alone, but Hadama’s presence is completely unexpected. Or really the presence of any mer this late at night. Harper considers passing by with only a friendly tilt of his head or perhaps a wave, but the forger seems hard at work, and Harper has never been able to resist offering assistance. Walking closer, he clears his throat gently just in case Hadama somehow hadn’t already seen him. “Are you a fellow late night enjoyer, or am I intruding on something specific?” He wouldn’t be surprised if it was some sort of prayer or ritual unknown to him.
Why do we wake ourselves from paradise Where we will never be alone
The human was very quiet, and in the darkness Hadama didn't notice the man's approach until the gentle clearing of a throat intruded past the sounds of wave and wind through leaves and sleepy bird calls. It was not a startling sound, quiet as it was, and the mermanta finished his mixing and considered the bowl before he let his water magic slip him back down into the Miana Pool's chilly embrace.
"Both," he said simply, turning to give the councilman his full attention and swimming towards him at a leisurely pace. "It is a task from Safrin." He turned his head to nod behind him at the bowl before looking back to Harper with a tilt of his head. "It needs to rest beneath the stars for one week." The 'undisturbed' went without saying. "Do you have a wish for the L'ma?" A question asked in courteous curiosity. The serene mermanta seemed to have no qualms from their only previous interaction over the stargate.
What if we're all just sleeping satellites Why do we drift so far from home
Ah, a task for a quest then. Harper isn’t surprised in the least. Safrin’s followers seem to find themselves drawn to Torchline because of their stated allegiance to her - or perhaps the other way around, allegiance having been declared due to majority. Either way, as a devotee of the herald himself, it is only positive news.
A week of rest, however, poses a challenge. “A difficult task, then. What did you have in mind to keep it protected, if I may ask?” The merman’s suspicions and coldness in their first and only other interaction hadn’t gone unnoticed, but it had ruffled nary a hair on Harper’s head. He is not universally loved in any sense, but it would never dim his kindness towards others. The inquiry is a surprise, then, but it has his smile turning a little sad. “I’ve admittedly never wished upon them before. I’ve been in Caido a very long time, but I’m no native; I’m still learning all the rituals and beliefs after all this time.” Each time doing so with open-minded belief, intent on embracing every aspect of this world and her vast, varied people. “But I do wish on shooting stars - that was common, where I came from.” And considering how most of his life had been spent in the twilight hours, it’s no surprise he’d come to worship Safrin the way he does.
Why do we wake ourselves from paradise Where we will never be alone
All of the old gods were welcomed by the merfolk, but for Hadama the star-eyed goddess was the one he had been drawn to from the very beginning. For him, there had never been another. That so many he had met had felt similarly inspired had only seemed natural, though he respected those who followed other paths.
The human's question drew him from his musing and Hadama considered the man thoughtfully for a few moments in his slow, unhurried way. "The location is difficult to reach," he explained at last. "As long as the weather is clear. And I will remain here with it." With his water magic he was a formidable guardian in his own right, though even he would need to sleep eventually.
Curious to hear that the man was an Outlander, as the humans called it, Hadama listened solemnly before explaining: "The L'ma is said to grant wishes, sometimes. To those who throw the most beautiful colored stones into the Pool." He swished his tail behind him through the crystalline waters. "What do you offer to falling stars?" For there was always some kind of transaction, to gain what one desired.
What if we're all just sleeping satellites Why do we drift so far from home
It’s an honorable vigil, though Harper’s brows rise all the same at the prospect. “It will certainly work, but perhaps I can come and relieve you for a few hours each day, so you can rest?” It wouldn’t be a bother, and already he is adjusting his plans for the following days, finding hours he can provide for Hadama to rest.
It’s a beautiful tradition, and Harper listens with a sincerely attentive expression, one that breaks in a slight laugh at what he asks. “You offer your silence, and your restraint. Whatever wish you give, you cannot tell anyone else present beneath that falling star. A metaphorical offering of sorts.” He’d never considered it that way before, but it’s a sweet sort of realization.
Why do we wake ourselves from paradise Where we will never be alone
It was not an offer that Hadama would have expected from a stranger, and he considered it solemnly for long moments. True, he and the councilman had disagreed in the matter of the Stargate, but Harper's reasons hadn't been without honor. They had simply had different - and unfortunately opposing - priorities at the time.
"I... would appreciate that. Thank you," the mermanta agreed slowly, inclining his head deeply to the human.
Ah. A wish that relied on discipline rather than trinkets. It made sense to Hadama, who nodded his understanding before realizing that they were missing something important. Or at least, that he could not remember having heard the name of the man before him now.
"I am Hadama," he added, uncertain if he had properly introduced himself before, either, but suspecting they had not. The previous meeting had been focused on the business at hand and had not lingered on social niceties.
What if we're all just sleeping satellites Why do we drift so far from home
It clearly has him taken aback, but Harper only smiles kindly, not wanting to point it out in any way. He would offer it to anyone, it’s true, but part of him does hope that this could mean some sort of bridge fostered between them. It’s always difficult to discern whether those desires to be close to and appreciated by his people comes from himself or the Councilman in his head.
“My pleasure,” he assures quietly, and is pleasantly surprised when the merman introduces himself. Since no hand is offered, Harper easily assumes it’s not a customary greeting and doesn’t pursue it; though his smile undeniably brightens. “I’m Harper. It’s nice to meet you - outside of business, of course.” They are different people without those chains around their necks. He’s eager to see what kind Hadama is, unshackled and free of scrutiny.
Why do we wake ourselves from paradise Where we will never be alone
"Harper," Hadama repeated in his thoughtful rumble, committing the name to memory. "The pleasure is mine." Webbed hands could make for uncomfortable handshakes, though he certainly returned the gesture when it was offered to him. The height difference and physical awkwardness between land and shore was a more compelling reason to avoid it unless the other person was in a boat or in the water, however, and he saw no reason to ask Harper to get his feet wet tonight.
But there was still a question that tugged at his curiosity, though he was usually more reserved, especially around those he didn't know well yet. Tilting his head to the side he considered the human before gathering his courtesy to ask. "If you did not come to make a wish, may I ask what brought you to the Pool night?"
What if we're all just sleeping satellites Why do we drift so far from home
He smiles genially at the kindly reply, grateful for first strides at something better, something more friendly. Though he laughs a little disparagingly at the inevitable question. For all he is an open book with most, these concerns are far deeper and darker than he feels is fair to share with Hadama. “I have had my personal life upturned in the past season, and the war has not made things any easier. It’s difficult for me to sit still - or sleep - when I have a lot on my mind, so I often wander instead.” Better to be useful instead of staring at the ceiling.
Turning as a distant commotion catches his ears, Harper frowns. “I should probably go see what that is. But I’ll be back to relieve you so you can sleep, okay?” He jogs off down the beach to investigate the disturbance, waving with a smile over his shoulder.
- - -
They don’t talk overly much throughout the week, only in the moments when Harper arrived to relieve Hadama and when he awakens the merman to take his leave. Though Harper himself is also running on much less sleep than before, he doesn’t regret helping the forger in the least. The ocean air alone would have been beneficial to his state of mind. Sitting with Hadama as the sun begins to rise, signaling their week is at an end, Harper hums softly. “I’m glad we had this time, Hadama. I know we couldn’t fully enjoy each others company, but it helped me as much as I hope it helped you.”
Why do we wake ourselves from paradise Where we will never be alone
A curious but silent tilt of the mermanta's head met the admission of unsettled times, but he didn't press Harper for details. When the human was ready, Hadama knew, he would share. And if he was never ready, then the sun would still rise and the tide would still turn, and life would continue with neither of them having lost anything that truly mattered. Still: "If you ever wish to talk, I will listen," he offered simply, with no expectation that the human would need or want to.
But the offer was there, nonetheless.
The commotion was landward and well out of Hadama's ability to follow even if he hadn't had a duty of his own. He tilted his head in acknowledgment of the councilman's promise and settled in to wait as Harper went to see to his people.
It was no hardship, resting in the calm Miana Pool beneath the stars, meditating on Safrin and her gifts.
It would have been far more difficult to undertake the full week without Harper's kindness, Hadama knew. Though they'd had little chance to talk, the assistance had been very welcome and the mermanta was grateful.
"I am in your debt," he rumbled, inclining his head in respect. "Next time, perhaps we will be able to talk more." Something he was looking forward to, though the War was only days away and there was no guarantee that they would both survive to see the other side.
