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 Oerwoud was an entirely different climate from Halo – and though Deimos hadn’t been there in the past year, he recalled the coiled and clustered humidity, the stifling sentiments of heat, and the unwinding vines and ferns of the jungle. Lingering there in its midst already ensured his hair had been pulled upwards and back, off his neck, and he’d long since shed furs and coats for his tunic, stuffing all of it into his bag of holding. Sleeves were rolled up over his forearms, and with a wrinkle to his nose, he was half-inclined to peel that away from his skin too.
As Belial sailed ahead of them, he turned towards the Evergreen, pondering how she was doing in this alteration of surroundings – presuming she’d be in her element, with all the different plants. A mischevious arch of his brow remained, along with his chiseled smile, but not giving voice to his indulgent thoughts – rather to filaments of the past. “Did you give offerings to this deity before?” As so many had, well prior to the war, as they wandered through the desert, striving to save this one too.
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
Evie is similarly suffering. While she knows the Academy blessing only diminishes cold, she swears it must make the heat even more unbearable, and for someone as fair-skinned and inclined toward milder climates as Evie is, that's tantamount to a death sentence. Even the greenhouse which she so loves could never hope to compete with the humidity of the Oerwoud in spring. Still, it's clear the plant life is undeniably thriving here, which keeps her in rather positive spirits - often distracted away from Deimos' side and the ill-trod path by beautiful blooms, intriguing moss, and curious tubers that she has never encountered before. While she'd brought her small hip pouch for this, she is already bemoaning its lack of size, wanting to take more cuttings and seed samples back home to replant.
Attention snagged anew by Deimos' voice, Evie jogs back to his side with a sheepish smile. "No, though that probably sounds strange given they're so similar to Frey. Honestly, we had little to no education about the seasonal deities growing up." Information lost from years of not being handed down properly. "Have you? We likely won't get to meet him today, but have you before?"
He could almost see the wheels turning, the inevitable pout, as she sauntered to nearly each and every plant. They would’ve been to the shrine long before, but Deimos didn’t mind, parsing through in time, head uplifted, watching rippling vines and distorted canopies, occasionally shaking his head as Belial swooped and dived from above. “If you run out of room,” his eyes went instantly to her hip pouch, “I can fit some more in my bag.”
Given Evie’s status of tending to the wilds before making her way towards Halo, he wasn’t surprised by the lack of meeting – and perhaps it was a good thing anyway, considering his run-ins with the Mathair had made him wary of those particular heralds. His head tilted vaguely, fingers peeling away several leaves out of the top of her hair. “Not seen, but we gave it water when it was in the desert.” He paused again, taking some other swift strides in pursuit of the shrine. “I have met Mathair and Tanau though.”
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
It always makes her heart flutter that little bit when he willingly slows for her, entertains her distractions and passions, no matter how many times he does it. They have more reason now than ever to try and rush these moments now that they have a region to rule together, so Deimos' easy acceptance of her wandering is just as impactful as his offer. "Thank you love," she murmurs, dropping a kiss to his shoulder as she rejoins him. Only to grin mischievously as she closes her own bag, now utterly full. "Though you shouldn't encourage me too much before we have the house finished, or we'll run out of room." The Halo greenhouses are massive, but Evie would gladly stretch the limits of its glassy walls if it meant having every single plant in Caido at her fingertips.
Holding still for him to pluck the leaves out of her hair - nearly as ubiquitous as her soil stained hands - she can't help but turn her head slightly to regale him with wonder filled eyes. "Really? What were they like?" How different to the other heralds?
A deep rumble in his chest followed the gesture, and then a snort to parse through on the second statement. “Between my weapons and your plants, we will need an additional house.” A joke, because the work on the current one was enough. A thought meandered, on recent trips to worlds apart and realms shifted, uncertain if it would cause distress or simply unravel more threads of curiosity. “Remind me to show you what Sah and I found in the Grounds. Grass that smelled like vanilla.” Leaving the other implications behind, his feet persisted along the intermingling paths, brushing aside a few branches and brambles as they pressed onward.
He glanced back her way to see the mixture of intrigue along her features, and then lifted his gaze along the other surroundings – Belial a loud fixture, hooting and hollering - as his memories swept over other ventures. They’d been integral to motions laden amidst the world, and not without their own set of hardships. “Tanau seemed young. Kind. Wanted to aid us during the sickness.” Had assisted in the measures necessary to ensure everyone was healed, and not at the mercy of the Voice. “The Mathair threatened to eat Remi and I when we were assisting in getting her back to the Greatwood.” A shrug of his shoulders followed, as if that were a normal occurrence, striving not to sneak a self-deprecating joke amidst the clamor of chaos that had once been.
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
Her own snort of a laugh joins alongside his, not even wanting to imagine the labor involved to accomplish such a harebrained idea. What they have on their plates is more than enough - no matter the temptation to live in a veritable glass-covered forest of her own making. A forest that would have plenty of need for vanilla grass. "Where did you find it? Did it taste of it too, or just smell?" Intrigue lights up her eyes immediately, following in his wake as he keeps them focused on their trail onward. Hanging on every word even as the topic changes to her original question.
"Hm...many plants are carnivorous, and autumn is the season of dead things - mulching, digestion of inferior material. Maybe that's the type the represents. In which case it would be fitting for the Fae to worship her ," she snickers, logic devolving into something admittedly more childish. She can't help it - there will always be a small degree of bitterness and animosity towards them as a Grounder, recalling all they'd done to her friends and family. Poking a little fun at them in private seems more than fair game.
Giving a grin at the spark of interest ignited all over again, he took the moment to savor the notes, then reach into his bag, pulling out the glass jar and its containments of sweetgrass, kept readily alive and available due to his earthen incantations. Passing it over for her inspection, he persisted on the path, closing the satchel as he spoke. “We did not taste it. Wanted you to examine it first.” Deimos had learned over the years the vast amount of ways Caido could threaten one’s life, and he wouldn’t put it past any kind of vegetation meant to lure others in by sweet aromas. “Found it at the bottom of the rise. Near the Labyrinth.” So close one could see hedgerows and vines rearranging themselves, or anyone bold enough to enter.
As for the Fae and their carnivorous endeavors, he gave another light snort, a tease to follow through, striving to find another segment away from the trauma. “Are you saying Remi and I were inferior material?” His brow arched, head tilting vaguely in her direction, waiting to see how she contorted. "She seemed content when we distracted her with gore crows instead." Pausing, considering, and proffering, as he always did, came along his low tones once more. "Found some interesting pools in the Greenwood too."
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
Old, impetuous childish urges tell her to snatch the jar straight from his hands with the force of her excitement, but she manages to withhold those until the moment he deposits it freely. She keeps on the path at his side by virtue of her peripheral vision and little else as she immediately begins investigating this new plant, passing it between her fingers, under her nose, and against the tip of her tongue. Her magic comes to probe at it as well, earth and healing in tandem, finding nothing to indicate either visually from years of experience or magically that it has any harmful effects. "It must be like honeysuckle or vanilla beans, highly fragrant but completely safe," she murmurs more to herself than anything, but extends one blade of the grass back to Deimos with a bright smile. "Probably great to chew on actually!" And with no hesitation she does the same, marveling at the response on her tongue.
Her laughter is a little sheepish, cheeks a touch pink, but there's sass in her expression as she turns it to him. "Compared to a seasonal god harbored in a nearly immortal tree? I'd wager so." Even a demigod and Safrin's champion likely wouldn't mean much to such an eternal being. "What sort of pools? More than just temporary rainwater?" Evie wishes each adventure could be shared between them, but at least Deimos is a wonderful storyteller.
He continued walking along the path, brushing aside branches, ducking when Belial came too close for comfort, keeping them tending to the notions ahead while her attention deviated. Amused, he watched her from the corner of his eye as she snagged, inspected, and investigating, a rapt examination he’d seen her commit to a hundreds of times before. “Locals called it sweetgrass,” and once she began nibbling, with no threat in sight, he took hold of the proffered blade. With trust well instilled between them, he placed the plant along the tip of his tongue, permitting a slight huff when he could taste the aforementioned flavoring. “Interesting. Think it would be safe to put in the greenhouse?” Sticking some of it out across his lips and into the corner of his mouth, the vast holdings of his mind contemplated further reaches and uses for the little vegetation.
The Sword snorted and rolled his eyes at her other response, expecting it, considering multitudes of other moments in their teasing. He never thought highly of himself regardless, so he tossed the semblances aside for more ventures, wanderings across the world. “Not quite. Seemed to linger under trees, and when one looked within, instead of a reflection, it showed mountains.” Shrugging his shoulders, gaze lifting towards a turn in the trail, his pace continued and persisted. “Should not swim in them though.” It’d been a warning for him on his ventures, and so one he extended to her as well, given her recent proclivity for the activity.
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
Ducking is almost instinctual, too absorbed in her newfound treasure to do more than react to her peripherals and the sight of Deimos hunching similarly at her side. She can't help but snort at the simplistic naming - "Well, duh," she mutters mostly to herself, amused. "It would be perfect for the greenhouse, I'll have to see if it has any companion planting benefits but it would be a great divider or space filler..." It rambles on in a stream of murmured but excited tones, fiddling with the remaining grass in her hands, using her nails to split them and investigate their inner structures.
Only the lure of further enticing information draws her from the deepening rabbit hole she finds herself sliding down, and like a magpie she lifts her head with a new gleam in her eye. "Are they like melted areas of memory snow, maybe?" It would make sense for Deimos to see mountains in a pool of water connected to memory; every cell in his body seems tuned for the peaks and ridges of those snowy peaks. It would entirely depend on what any companions nearby had seen.
While the Sword had no notion of planting benefits nor dividers or space fillers, he could ascertain its uses in more simplistic venues. “As long as it is useful and tastes good,” with a slight wrinkle to his nose, halfway tempted to elbow her in the ribs. Instead, he marched onward, through the fluid bend in the trail, until the shrine loomed ahead. Gnawing down the remaining portions of his grass, he idly broke off a stem of a branch nearby, some other mischievous plan lurking in his mind. Juvenile at best.
But the inquiry made him pause in his other machinations for the time being, so he ended up twirling the stick between his fingers. “I am not certain. These were not any mountains I recognized.” And he’d known the Basin like the back of his own hand – from every stone and particle of snow. The same could be said of Halo’s reaches, and though he’d only marched through the Draig in glimpses of war, he would’ve been able to signify their presence. With a touch of teasing in his tones, his head raised back up, a boyish hint in the slate of his gaze. “You can always snoop and see for yourself.”
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
Though he stays his elbow, she can nearly sense the desire for it, summarily endeared by the wrinkle of his nose and the impishness implied in his voice. "That's the biggest perk, obviously," Evie responds in kind, contently chewing her little bundle of grass into little more than pulp. Eyeing the branch he breaks off and fiddles with with narrowed eyes and a tiny twitch to her lips. Baiting him with questions seems to distract him well enough - as it often does, though she is careful to employ it sparingly - but the mischief that meets her in turn is enough to make her laugh.
"Well now I'll have to since you didn't." A tease of fire in blue eyes, brows wiggling her partner's way as the pathway becomes more well-trod and defined. Must be close to the shrine then. "I know Halovians once prayed too much to Eirachi and that is what caused Halo's more extreme weather; I wonder what the heralds think of their seasonal counterparts then. If they have the power to disrupt the balance like that, but are not seen as a threat?" Since he has met far more of the heralds and seasonal deities, perhaps he can shed some light on the subject. Evie has always wondered, if only as Warden - constantly considering if Halo's environment is as unforgiving as it is naturally, or if they yet have threads to unwind from the Eirachi's meddling.
The twig rotated through his fingers, as if it were a staff or blade, rather than a piece of broken wood. Contemplating, surveying, and biding his time, they tread further down the path, where the brambles seemed pushed aside by other pilgrimages and travelers, the shrine all the more apparent and outlined against the trees. Significantly altered and different from the last one he’d seen for Ghilio – if the well and desert surroundings could’ve been called that – only returning from his musing thoughts at her tease with another earned wrinkle of his nose and some devilish decorum.
His thoughts mulled at the inquiry though, but not enough to persuade him to cease with flicking the stick by her ear. “I have not heard of any negativity towards them.” At least not from the heralds; maybe they believed if humans were foolish enough to call upon Eirachi (and multiple times over scores of centuries – so that Halo now looked as it did), then it was their own fault. “Maybe they do not wish to interfere?” That the seasons were not like the Voice – made and honed from similar aspects to themselves, rather than Cores and technology meant to wound, mar, and blemish. “Or do not feel the need.” From what he understood of Tanau, the fiery youth was strong, but kind. Eirachi was a league of her own, and Mathair would’ve gnawed on anyone and anything. Ghilio remained an enigma.
think about this you have the ability to survive anything
The stick - which she had known would become a problem - flicks incessantly at her ear. Evie narrows her eyes without turning, and with a twitch of her magic tries to snap the stick in half the next time it touches her skin. It tickles, and if it doesn't work, she'll have to give him the pleasure of running away from it.
"Mm, that's a good point. If they work in tandem, it would be our own faults as fickle little humans to not seek out the heralds themselves - uh, unexpected barrier notwithstanding." That was by and large likely the reason Halovians had turned to Eirachi in the first place. Hopefully Frey's influence would only be beneficial for Halo in terms of restoring the balance. Already the Greenwing and the Hollow Forest have brought much-needed foliage and balance to the icy tundra.
Approaching Ghilio's shrine, Evie roots around in her hip bag - past all the samples she'd filled it with - to find her offering. A crystal encased flower she'd grown in her personal collection at home and had immortalized into the offering she now places amidst all the other gifts. "I hope he enjoys similar things to Frey, there's so little information on them." And she'd scoured the library before today, hoping for illumination she hadn't found.
