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!
Some morning ran like clockwork; awaken before dawn, run alongside brethren amidst patrols as the sun rose. Train fellow disciples and warriors for a few hours, meet back with Evie to go over paperwork, messages, and other necessities, and finding meals in between. By the time evening roamed around, they had modest hours to themselves, and whatever mischief or mayhem that could be concocted.
Except in this particular hour, the gates needed repairs again, and so while the rest of his guards hastened off in comfortable jogs across the snow at the first hint of light, the Sword set to work blending the iron to his making.
Perhaps it'd been warped along the bottom proportions, for they weren’t lining up properly. With a soft sigh, he crouched beside the initial layer, removing his gloves in order to render creation and earth magic more effectively; bending the incantations and metal to his will. Zuriel maintained a more regal position, looking across the vast tundra, while Belial played an even worse lookout, rambling and running along the top of the high walls as the Sword worked.
03-21-2023, 04:04 AM (This post was last modified: 03-21-2023, 04:08 AM by Alys.)
Alys
this night is alive with the smell of insane —
Alys had never been one for socializing, and so it was that when she came across a gate being repaired by a strange man, she very nearly turned tail and walked the other way. It would have been easy to do so. She'd been in the Citadel for quite some time, and she was sure that she could find something else to occupy herself until the repairs were done. But though it would be easy, it would not be convenient, and so she stood for a moment, gazing at the man with a small frown on her face, worrying at her thumbnail with her teeth.
He was a large man - Alys could tell that even with him hunched over at the base of the gate - with dark hair that hung in waves to his broad shoulders. A unicorn accompanied him, which piqued the woman's interest; she'd never seen one before, and it was a beautiful creature. A peryton played on the ramparts above them.
Alys squared her shoulders. This was the way she wanted to go, and surely talking to the stranger wouldn't be so hard. She approached slowly, clearing her throat to announce her presence. "I need to get through here," she said to the man in a way that would likely be considered rude in any other tone of voice. As it were, she attempted a smile and waited for him to - hopefully - move out of the way.
He’d only closed the aperture for half a moment, merely to ensure they still lined up appropriately. Studying them for a moment, he sighed, pondering if there was some other portion warping the paneling.
Belial had seen the approaching stranger – though instead of rampaging downward and being outwardly obnoxious, he simply centered himself into stillness, disappearing along the edges of the walls. Zuriel, with her level of sovereign esteem, flicked an ear, and then persisted in searching for some wayward grass growing along edges. Likewise, Deimos could hear the steps within snow, but occupied with gate repairs, presumed it’d be another citizen walking by. Returning to his full height, he intended to nod at the passerby and then continue.
Except he didn’t recognize this person at all, and the necessity of passing through emerged. His eyes narrowed for a moment, a very brief round of speculation immersing within his mind. “Apologies,” came on his residual rumble, before unfurling a round of Air incantations. The gate hastened under the sudden, contorted and controlled, burst of wind, swinging wide. Not without a squeak of its hinges, which forced another long exhale through his lungs.
The large man unfurled himself from his crouched position, and Alys realized just how truly massive he was in comparison to her petite frame. She resisted the urge to take a step back, refusing to be cowed by his presence. Besides, he merely offered a brusque apology before opening the gate with a burst of wind. It would have been easy, then, to walk through the gate and go on her merry way, but something gave her pause. The man was an enigma - a giant with a unicorn and a peryton, who had magic. Like her.
She didn't know many people like her.
When the gate swung open, it squeaked loudly, and she winced at the grating sound. "That's unfortunate," she offered to no one in particular as she tilted her head to one side. Perhaps she could stay, then, just for a short while. "Is that what you're trying to fix?"
Unaware of her inner quandaries, and used to either being analyzed, stared at, or studied due to a variety of things, he merely arched his brow at her response. Deimos had expected her to forge onward, and then there’d be nothing more. The statement and inquiry meant something else was potentially circumventing through, which left his machinations to stir. Speculation aside though, he had some work to be done.
“Yes,” he admitted. “Though some of the paneling on the bottom is warped too.” Wear and tear wasn’t unusual – given the cold, how often they opened and closed the gates, and the manner of creatures (dragons, mostly) that seemed unbothered by its fortress adornments. Maneuvering back to the situation at hand, he crouched back down, unfurling a minor maelstrom of fire in his palm, and melding the metal back into something formidable. Then he could see what was left to salvage of the hinges. Pausing momentarily, because he wasn’t certain why she still lingered, he turned some manner of focus towards the woman. “Did you need something?”
Upon closer inspection, Alys could see that some of the paneling was indeed warped, and for a moment, she studied the gate with nearly the same scrutiny as she had the man standing before it. To her untrained eye, though, it was just a gate - albeit a slightly warped and squeaky one. She turned her attention back to the man, who knelt again before the gate and summoned fire in his fist. She watched curiously. He was much stronger with his magic than she was with hers.
When he spoke to her, she blinked. "No," she responded to his inquiry, her tone matter-of-fact. A moment passed. "You're mending it with magic," she said, the first note of real interest in her voice. "I wish I could do things like that." Then she frowned. The admission had been accidental, but it was true nonetheless.
Incantations interspersed, curling and contorting upon one another until the metal affixed to his goal. Straight-lined and adhered, the bottom paneling finally succumbed to his constant onslaught, permitting him to maneuver over to the hinges, scrutinizing those facets while the stranger seemed to come up with an answer.
It didn’t surprise him – for any facets of magic had been met with either the same noteworthy, eye-widening stances, hidden scrutiny, or unwinding contempt. Glancing back over his shoulder at her, his eyes narrowed speculatively once more; not a threatening gaze, but a purposeful, meticulous one, striving to pinpoint the true nature of the quiet response. Was her story similar to Evie’s, and many others, who were judged and scorned for being born with the enchantments in their veins? Or was it the simplicity of discontent? Head tilting, his deep rumble echoed again. “What is stopping you?”
03-23-2023, 01:47 AM (This post was last modified: 03-23-2023, 01:58 AM by Alys.)
Alys
this night is alive with the smell of insane —
What is stopping you?
It seemed perfectly obvious to Alys, but then, she supposed it was unfair to expect a stranger to figure out the inner machinations of her mind. She'd never been particularly gifted with her magic; perhaps that was why she found such comfort in divination and the occult. Her cards had never let her down. Her magic, on the other hand...
"I'm not very good at magic," said Alys bluntly. She paused, concentrating, and called an illusion of a mouse into the snow by the gate. It was a patchy illusion that flickered in and out every so often. Alys frowned at it, and it petered out. "That's the best I can do," said Alys. "It's not very useful, except maybe for party tricks." And Alys wasn't exactly one for parties.
“That is how most of us start,” another rumble, to accommodate the feelings of ineptitude. Even he, who’d known power since he was very young, had been flung into Outlander distinctions and weakened at the beginning of the Caido expansions. The piercing slate of his gaze landed on her illusionary tactics, watching as the mouse appeared, and then disappeared. The potential of it remained and existed though, for the Sword had seen potency in each incantations, especially in trickery and chicanery (though he wouldn’t give Neron the credit for such spectacles; not with his range of bitterness and spite).
Finishing on the paneling, and returning to his full height to inspect it carefully, he didn’t dismiss her efforts. “Time, effort, and practice ensure the growth of your magic.” His gaze finally wound back to her, for half a moment, before maneuvering towards the hinges, maybe a dare or provocation in the depth of his stare. “But only if you are willing.” How many scores of others had simply given up in the wake of their enchantments?
That is how most of us start, rumbled the giant, and Alys pursed her lips. She supposed that he may be right, but she was not the most patient of people. She wanted to see results now. Still, she remembered when she had first picked up the tarot. She hadn't known the meanings of the cards then - it had taken study and practice. Perhaps the man was right, and magic was no different.
But where to start?
She watched as the man straightened, inspecting his handiwork, and she turned her attention to the gate as well. The panels were indeed straightened, fixed so cleanly that she could no longer tell that they had been bent in the first place. She could see how one would practice useful magic. But what was she to do to practice her illusions? "If you had illusion magic, what would you do with it?" she asked curiously.
Patience had been instilled within his mind from childhood; until eventually juvenile impulses only gave way when he was teasing and taunting his loved ones. Strength and power took time, and if it flickered into everyone so readily, it wouldn’t be so difficult to surmise across countries and kingdoms. Determination and skill were fostered by mind, body, and soul, and he could only extend advice to those willing to snag and utilize it for themselves.
So he waited, that modicum of forbearance and tenacity, diligently removing the gate from the mauled, gnarled hinges, and leaning it against the walls. He might’ve expected something else from the stranger, so the inquiry gave him an adequate pause as he returned to the edges and fringes, brows furrowing, eyes narrowing. “Practice and train with it so that it may grow.” Little bits and pieces first, conjuring minor trickery and deceits, before it could loom large and beckoning. Though he wasn’t the sort to compel such incantations, known more for his brute force and elemental bludgeoning, he’d seen and experienced enough to see how the guile could be beneficial. Another rumble followed, with the inkling of a smile curling in the corner of his mouth. “Use it to fool my opponents and enemies.”
And then a casual shrug shifted through his shoulders, before his creation magic began again, a gilded glow settling around his palms. “What do you want to do with it?”
Alys was an impatient person, except for when it came to reading her cards. It was not uncommon to find her poring over a book of meanings, or scribbling notes furiously in her journal, carefully working through each possible meaning of a card and its position. She stuck her hands in the pockets sewn into her dress, fingering the packet of cards fondly. She'd put a great deal of work into her divination, and she liked to think that she'd grown quite good at it. Perhaps the stranger was right, and she simply needed to put in the effort with her magic.
But the question remained: what was illusion magic good for?
The stranger would use it to fool his opponents, but Alys couldn't think of a single person she would consider an enemy. Of course, she'd be hard put to identify any friends, either, but that was neither here nor there. "I don't... know," she said thoughtfully, feeling rather young and stupid. A moment passed as she watched him pull the gate from its hinges, working to silence its rather grating shriek. All she really did was See things for people. Maybe her magic could help her with that. "I could use it to show people things," she mused aloud. "Things they haven't seen before."
He didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence take root and hold within the span of time and space. Sometimes all the only moments required were ones of thought, probability, and practicality, the usefulness exposed, or the potential stretched. As she mulled, he persisted in his creation attempts, the gilded glow flickering across his palms, until the newfound hinges emerged. The Warden gave them a firm pat of his hand, before withdrawing from his crouch once more, and headed back over to the gate left to rest, certain this would have put an end to the repairs – for today.
As the stranger ultimately came to a decision, his brow arched, glancing at her over his shoulder. Curiosity invoked, his head tilted again, looking very much like the predators instilled within his blood. “Such as?” He paused, only swinging his gaze back to the metal. “To make them content? To frighten them?” Or a myriad of other reasons and notions – simply for the sake of it all?
Already the young woman was lost in thought, turning over this new idea in her mind: her cards shuffling between her fingers, drawing out the perfect one, and rather than simply describing it, showing it. To show the Fool, jaunty and naive, tumbling over the edge of his cliff, warning her patron of the dangers of leaping too quickly. To show Death, a card so often misjudged, as a caterpillar undergoing a metamorphosis, encouraging her patron to embrace change. The possibilities were endless, and her eyes lit with a kind of fevered glee.
"To help them," said Alys. "To help them to see more clearly." She spoke without thinking, without pausing, as though the words had been on the tip of her tongue all along. She giggled, pulling her hands from her pockets to clasp them in front of her chest. Then she realized that she must seem a bit insane, laughing at nothing, so she cleared her throat, hoping to cover up her momentary insanity. She regarded the man with new eyes. Would he be amenable to being a guinea pig?
