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!
In between political standpoints and necessities, trainings, missives, and any other duties, the notions of season’s end emerged – semblances of the Festival of Lights ringing a familiar sentiment in the back of his mind. So while he had a moment, the Sword collected the multitudes of lanterns stored within his and Evie’s home, and brought them out along the deck.
Placing the masses upon the wooden table, there was some amount of relief that he wouldn’t have to make any new ones this year. There’d been safety, security, a bounty of shelter, peace, and repose in place, and despite the many adventures and tasks, they’d managed to survive.
Which meant cleaning all the others, treating and giving them the respect they deserved. Ordinarily, he did so within the confines of the residence anyway, giving them ample portions and lights amidst his study, but perhaps they should’ve been granted more for this occasion. Eyes flickered over each and every one, from his mother, father, Rexanna, Bastien, Adam, Peter, and warriors fallen from the times of war, before sighing and sitting down, cloth in hand, and reaching for the Penumbra’s first.
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
It's not the long flowing dress that you're in Or the light coming off of your skin
She has been away a little too long, which means it’s time for her to come home and see her father. Though she has been ecstatic with her adventuring so far it would be disingenuous to say she isn’t excited to come home. Halo’s cold winds greet her with a familiar kiss against her dark cheeks, and even the cobblestone feels different under her feet compared to those lining Stormbreak’s streets.
She is winding her way through the familiar house-lined streets of Snowcloak when Deimos emerges from his house, and the sun-child brightens immediately to see him. Her frequent unwitting babysitter as a child, they’ve yet to spend any time together now that she is a young woman in her own right.
Her father can surely wait a little longer, right?
“Deimos!” she calls from the street, waving exuberantly before skipping up his steps in a cloud of curls and bright smiles. “Working on lanterns?” She has two of her own that represent her mothers in her own home, but hopefully he won’t mind the company even if she doesn’t have hers on hand.
It's the fragile heart you protected for so long The mercy in your sense of right and wrong
He shouldn’t have been surprised that minutes from exiting his house, his voice rose over the cobblestones and wood. Preparing, steeling, himself for the potential of another task or someone’s impending need of a rescue, he withheld a long breath, and shifted his gaze towards the voice – blinking rapidly in surprise, dropping the stoicism for a tilted head and momentary bewilderment.
Deimos recognized Soleil, of course, but the distinction and change in age had thrown him for more than a few instances. “Soleil,” he uttered in return, though lacking in exuberance – mostly marred by confusion. Reality slunk through his mind seconds later, presuming some Frey process had occurred again, and wondering if Sah was busy hyperventilating somewhere. “I trust you are doing well?” She was the type to do so regardless.
The Sword’s gaze pinpointed back on his array of lanterns, nodding in affirmation, machinations still meandering through how long it would take Noah’s twins to become teenagers and not understanding any of it. “Yes. What about you?”
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
It's not the long flowing dress that you're in Or the light coming off of your skin
Soleil feels so at home in her older body and mind that she often forgets people remember her as a young girl, but Deimos takes it in stride so readily that she doesn't even remember. To her, the transition was as natural as breathing. Why make a big deal out of it?
Plonking down in one of his porch chairs, she pulls her legs up to cross them on the cushion, incapable of ever sitting correctly. "I am! I just got back from visiting Torchline and then Stormbreak. They're so different from Halo!" It's clear by her gushing that she was impressed by both, but she softens moments later, amber eyes flicking out over the light snowfall beyond his porch. "But I'm glad to be home." Even if only for a short time.
Grief is strange to Soleil, who had experienced death once before arriving in a new body with new senses and abilities courtesy of The Voice. She hadn't lost anyone in the war, but she has a rather open-minded acceptance of loss given how much of it she has already experienced. Therefore, the topic of lanterns doesn't cause her to sober or sour. "I have two lanterns for my moms at home. I need to decorate them for the festival, but I haven't made it home yet actually." Still fresh off the skyboat and easily distracted by old friendly faces. "Would you like some help? You have a lot on your hands." At the very least she can help clean and polish them.
It's the fragile heart you protected for so long The mercy in your sense of right and wrong
The Sword nearly laughed at her familiarity, as she made herself present and at home within an instant. Some of those individuals were to be admired, for how they sequestered and occupied themselves in comfort and ease; he’d never been able to do so without time, patience, and fortitude. Her travels were intriguing enough to keep him occupied and out of the doldrums, however, as he tended to meander into melancholy the moment he set his sights on the lanterns. “How did you find Stormbreak?” The only one he’d yet to step within – though apparently, given time and opportunity, it’d be sooner rather than never.
Arching his brow at the insinuation that she’d yet to make it home, and knowing Sah would be losing his mind over it, he made no comment or forthcoming lecture (though it lingered behind his teeth). “If you want,” moving two in her direction – Adam and Peter’s accordingly, with their darkening colors and matching patterns – and then a cloth thereafter.
Then he settled in to wiping away the dust accumulated over several panes of Rexanna’s, so the richness of the gilded formation began to return from their lingering haze, a question lingering, treading lightly. “How are you planning to decorate yours?”
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
It's not the long flowing dress that you're in Or the light coming off of your skin
It's true that Soleil has an indomitable self-assurance, but she also considers meeting someone once a confirmed sign of friendship, and Deimos had certainly seen her far more often than that - why not get comfortable, right? Clearly everybody thinks the way she does.
"There's so much in so little space," she starts with wide eyes and an expressive face that clearly translates she hadn't necessarily been complimentary by saying that. "Everything is modern and beautiful, but people are so distant from each other. They're all just bustling about in their patterns and jobs. It doesn't have nearly the heart that Halo does." Which admittedly some people may enjoy; structure, peace, ensured anonymity. In Halo, everyone knows everyone, and if you have news then everyone has that same news - which are the downsides of course - but the aching absence of a visible community had rattled Soleil.
Taking the two lanterns he hands her, Soleil sets to work cleaning and polishing them to do something with her hands as she continues. "But their infrastructure was amazing. It's clear it's the capital - there were so many things to see and do, even official tours!" Nothing like Halo, where you'd be better off paying someone for a personal charter.
Glancing down at the lanterns she's cleaning as if envisioning her own, one shoulder shrugs slightly, sunny disposition dimming to something serious but luckily not sorrowful. "Flowers, usually. They're typical for funerals, and easy to personalize." Setting Peter's lantern down once she's satisfied with the cleanliness, she moves on to Adam's. "We died when I was really young. I remember them, but only with the mind of a child. I don't know what they would have liked, or what might represent them. And I don't want to make dad sad by asking him." He hates being reminded of the fact that Soleil remembers those final moments, remembers death's touch, in a way that Luka doesn't.
It's the fragile heart you protected for so long The mercy in your sense of right and wrong
Finishing on Rexanna’s lantern, he set it aside carefully, gently, before grabbing his parent’s water and fire based fixtures. All the while, he listened to Soleil’s insights, of worlds and kingdoms missed simply due to the nature of his blood. Tilting his head as he swept the rag over the fringes of dust, he strived to picture the maps Sohalia had given him; filling it all away for future use. A beautiful place with distant people, occupations keeping them closed-off; dissimilar to Halo in that they all strived to survive amidst one another. There hadn’t been a day gone by that someone hadn’t assisted a fellow citizen in some facet; and Deimos wouldn’t give up a sanction of that for a moment. Privacy might have been somewhat limited, but the Sword had always known how to prioritize seclusion.
Infrastructure could be meaningful though, pondering over portions that would likely have been rebuilt after the Ascended attack, and subsequent war efforts. He raised his head after one notion though, blinking, slightly baffled and bewildered. “Tours? Of what?” He couldn’t quite fathom what they’d guide people around for in Halo – save for an initial introduction – unless strangers required scouts and trackers to help them through the tundra.
Décor for lanterns altered the subject a little – unaware that Soleil had been amidst the many with partiality towards resurrection; second chances and more summoned through the boundaries and melancholy of Caido. “That is fair,” he acknowledged, gaze lingering on the detailed artifacts in his wake, all aligned to personal inclusions. “You can take some from the greenhouse, or I can make some for you.”
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
It's not the long flowing dress that you're in Or the light coming off of your skin
Soleil hadn't gone to many of the tours, too intent on exploring on her own two feet, keeping to her own schedule. She'd seen quite a lot of them however. "Tours of the Falling, the outside border of the city and the roots underneath. The Temple, which is huge. The old government buildings, the hot springs, things like the best shops and cafes." Those had clearly been for people visiting from other more modernized cities. "They even offered chartered tours of the Oerwoud and surrounding regions since they have so many skyboats. They were really expensive though." Unsurprising, and equally why Soleil had not even remotely considered it.
The offer is very kind, which is entirely expected of Deimos. Soleil smiles warmly at him all the same. "Could you make metal flowers? I always feel a little bad picking them every year and then them wilting so early." More so because of the bad aesthetic than killing the blooms.
It's the fragile heart you protected for so long The mercy in your sense of right and wrong
Recollections churned throughout his mind, of areas pinpointed on the cartographer’s angles and details – Falling, Temple, and maneuvering onward. “Interesting,” he uttered, for perhaps it was, even if he had never seen it for himself. “I hope our springs our better,” and he gave a cheeky, boyish sort of grin amidst the sentiments. “Did you have a favorite spot?” Trusting her insight more than any Stormbreakers wandering into their midst, he’d remember it for those times later, in the future, when his ilk were finally allowed to meander through the stone walls.
Taking care to ensure the watery elements of his mother’s lantern were precisely the right shade of blue, his head tilted back up at her acceptance. Metal flowers seemed more appropriate, and he snorted inwardly at the wisdom and sagacity, of permitting things to remain rather than sink, wilt, and decay. Trust the younger hordes to find their ways out of melancholy far quicker than the rest of them. “Of course. Any color preferences?”
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
It's not the long flowing dress that you're in Or the light coming off of your skin
She grins right back, though her cheekiness is adorably synchronized with his in terms of juvenile mischief - practically co-conspirators. “Much better. They advertise that you can see through the bottoms to the roots and sky below, but the water is so cloudy and bubbly you barely can. Disappointing.” Not to mention they don’t provide healing either, and the heat isn’t contrasted with the delightful chill of snow and ice mere inches away. They’re definitely both biased, but Soleil thinks there’s a clear winner here.
“It hardly counts as a spot, but I went bungee jumping off the edge of the Falling and it was incredible,” she gushes, going on to explain a bit about the mechanics of it all; harnesses, ropes, supports and failsafes. Deimos seems the type to enjoy that.
Content every nook and cranny has been dusted and shined on both lanterns she was handed, Soleil politely folds her hands in her lap (though her fingers idly twist the oiled rag still) as she waits for further options to assist, all the whole considering color choices. “Could you do pink and white ones as well as blue and purple? The deeper navy-purple shade that’s always in the middle of blue flowers.” Soleil is not particularly artistic, nor is she poetic. Her frankness has always been her strongest trait, not her eloquence. Hopefully Deimos will know what she means. Even if the shade isn’t perfect she’ll still love them, but given her childhood had been spent watching Deimos create things, she equally knows he prefers details and satisfaction and is happy to supply without coming off as demanding.
It's the fragile heart you protected for so long The mercy in your sense of right and wrong
The grin remained, solidified in its boyishness, at the confirmation. Would anyone want to see the roots and sky below, as they strived to savor mending, assuaging springs? Perhaps some, though he couldn’t say he’d be amongst them. “Shame,” he noted, though in clear and dry sarcasm, crossing it off his list of things to wonder about Stormbreak, wondering more and more about how the world had been so idealized by others.
Noting she’d finished off the lanterns, he carefully maneuvered the air around to send them back in his direction, and slowly did the same with Bastien’s, and some warriors fallen during the war. His eyes widened at the notions of bungee jumping though, enough to harken a laugh away from melancholy and spitefulness. “We used to launch from the Spire in our bird shifts. Sounds very similar.” His eyes shifted towards the distant horizon of mountains, but where it was the Draig, the sentiments and suggestion didn’t follow through – no insistence on jumping from those ramparts. “I suppose you could do something like that from the walls.” Probably not as thrilling, given only plunging towards snow.
Moving his mother’s lantern into the finished assortment, he nearly reached for his father’s, until she gave her recommendations on hues. His head tilted again, listening to the assortment of blends, before nodding. “Sure. Give me a moment.” Placing his own rag down, his hands joined together and then pulled outward, until the familiar, gilded glow began to meld in between. From his mind’s eye and into tangible threads, the metallic flowers came to be; pink and white, visions of petals from fields away, blue and purple with the deeper shades molding into the middle.
Handing them over with an arched brow, he grinned again. “Will those work?”
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
It's not the long flowing dress that you're in Or the light coming off of your skin
Envisioning a bungee jumping company of sorts in Halo brings a businesslike gleam to Soleil's amber eyes. "I mean, the Palace is still pretty empty, and huge," she points out, innocence plainly easy to see through but affected nonetheless. Certainly there were taller spires and eaves there than anything the Barracks' climbing wall or the Citadel's gates could provide.
Enchanted as always by the sight of him working his magic in such physical ways, Soleil leans her elbows on the table and plainly stares in delight as Deimos crafts beautiful wrought iron flowers from seemingly nothing. Taking them delicately - despite how sturdy each flower is - Soleil turns them one by one to watch the play of light over the colors in each petal. "They're perfect. Thank you, Deimos." Perhaps it is the 'next generation' that he had mused on before, or maybe it's simply that she remembers so little of her mothers, but Soleil doesn't lapse into silent melancholy as she holds these mementos in her hands. "Is there anything else I can do before I go? Dad's brain will explode if I'm too much later," she remarks with an unrepentant grin. Sol would do it all over again given the chance, and surely her father will forgive his only daughter.
It's the fragile heart you protected for so long The mercy in your sense of right and wrong
Bungee jumping from the Palace had never been on his list of essentials when it came to the inner workings of Halo – evidence freely given in his widened eyes, and muffled snort. “It will be taken into consideration.” That would be amusing to bring up at the next council meeting. The opulent and grandiose structure could be used for storage and launching.
But the flowers were passed over, and a firm nod given at her gratitude. “You are welcome.” As for anything else, he could finish the rest of the lanterns on his own, in either quiet musings or annoying anyone else who passed by. “You are all set. Thank you for your help.” And they wouldn’t want to leave Sah waiting, for the Sword figured the Abandoned was likely already fretting over the whereabouts of his daughter. Deimos would probably do the same. From there, he'd wave and nod once more, the Accepted free to bound off to her next adventure.
{FIN}
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
