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!
"Luckily for me, I love to watch the flames." Bastien smiled back to her. It would not be like him to have a lover without some spark. This felt right.
Perhaps she was right about the distance from which one should view her painting, but Bastien did not consider that necessarily a negative; he had known many professional artists who had carefully measured marks on the floor that recommended where a viewer should stand. "I am glad you are happy. The best thing about painting, of course, is that you may try this image as many times as you like until you are entirely satisfied." Though if he could, he would save these original two for the rest of his days, perhaps stored together in a small book...
He delighted in seeing the way she noticed herself in the piece, watched the realisation and happiness in her face, thought he really would have to sketch it later. Something about the essence of it...a thing in the moment, not posed, could he ever recreate that look in her eyes through mere paint? "I paint what I see."
There was no one he considered more qualified than Rexanna to speak on government so he listened to her with great interest, placing down his paintbrush to rest on the side of his canvas. He knocked it off with his laugh when she asked if he'd always pissed off his superiors, loving the implications that came with such a question.
"It was not my original aim. Perhaps in the end. But I was an Indian man in Italy with a leaning towards both men and women and a taste for the things the Catholics looked down upon. I was never the kind of man society favours. Or at least not openly." He secretly imagined that most people had actually rather desired to be a part of his inner circle but had been too wrapped up in their social niceties, in their rules.
"It does feel odd to be without something to rebel against. Perhaps it is why I have had such trouble with the Gods. But I will grow used to it, I am sure. With adventure and you and art...there is enough there for many lives to be full."
It soothes her, in a sense, that he offered to enjoy to love the flames. And she couldn’t have asked for a better response, honestly. But she listened while she inspected her own work with a critical eye, leaning a bit toward him to look up and smile gently at him. Perhaps their thoughts were too similar in that moment; while Bastien wasn’t certain he could capture the realization in her eyes, she wasn’t certain she could capture the happiness in the yellows of the painting, the sweet dips and bobs of the branches, and how the painting screamed peacefulness. Even if it seemed chaotic up close. But when he began to speak of painting what he saw, her eyes flickered toward his face as the oil lanterns rays began to cascade over the both of them in the slow growing absence of the sun.
Then, he elaborated on what his life had meant. And she listened diligently, not knowing where Italy was or who the Catholics and Indians were, but wondering if it were similar to her story. Except, where Bastien hadn’t been welcome, Rexanna had been invited to a wolf den covered in wool. The realization to Bastien’s history of preferring both men and women didn’t bother her, either. In fact, it had made a bit of sense to her as she thought back to the Masquerade and how she had done things there she’d never imagined she’d do before. And it had been exciting, though certainly not something her previous world looked down on. Her husband as a matter of fact, had many partners too – would spend the night with her whenever it became necessary to try and conceive children. Any other time and he could be found with consorts of a sort, not officially named yet because Calstron hadn’t been King at that time.
But it didn’t bother her.
And she nodded softly to him in response as he painted the image in her mind of his rebelling against the gods – of the way he couldn’t seem to stop, and she flashed him a gentle smile as his words began to include her. Her hand slipped from her canvas to rest gently on his forearm, her thumb aiming to trace gentle touches along the muscle there. “I think our life will be very full. I’m excited to see where it goes from here!” She chimed, putting aside her finished painting to dry and scooting along the blanket closer to him. “And I think perhaps in learning of your past, you and I are far closer than we thought.” She hummed with a spark of a question in her eye. “There’s a certain boldness one gets when living in places that don’t accept you for reasons you can’t control. I was never the running type before they let me out of the dungeons, but the first chance I got I took it.” She mused, glancing to him. “Started to run and never looked back.”
There was such a thing as overworking a piece of art, so as Rexanna considered the similarities of their two lives Bastien decided he was done working on his own image and placed it next to hers to dry, putting the brushes back in the pot of water to wash off (they would bend against the bottom of the pot, but he didn't care too much in that moment. They were the small and less-quality ones anyway. He was sure Remi wasn't busy at all and could make him some new ones if needed).
His hand went to rest over hers on his arm, Bastien moving in to lean close and press his face into the crook of her neck. "I have felt for a while we might be kindred spirits. I am glad I was right." He mumbled against her skin, closing his eyes for a moment just to revel in being close to her.
A few close, quiet moments would pass if she let him stay close, then he pulled away with clear hesitance and turned back to the basket. "I did bring one more thing." He informed her then reached into the basket, brought out a bottle of deep red juice and a bag containing two pastries. "I realised most of the times we have been together alcohol has been involved, and well. I did not want you think I was trying to ply you into this. So I have brought us juice, they tell me made from berries, and some sweets from the bakery. For a nighttime picnic."
Passing one of the pastries to her, he held the neck of the bottle and shrugged. "I am afraid that despite my comments last time we met, we must drink this from the bottle. I did not have room for the glasses and did not want them to break. Hopefully you will not be too upset at having to share it with me." He winked at her, sure that after the things they'd done it would not be an issue, then tipped up the bottle to his lips. He raised his eyebrows, surprised and happy when the taste was tart enough to activate even his newly-numb tastebuds a little.
His hand gently covered her own on his arm, and she leaned into him as he did the same – tilting her head slightly as his face moved into the crook of her neck. A shiver raced down her spine at the feel of his breath brushing against her skin, and she smiled into it both with the truths he spoke and the honesty of the idea of it. They were kindred spirits, and she found that despite his rebelling against higher powers, Rexanna had simply just been on the wrong side of them from the start. She didn’t think it had anything to do with what she did, but rather the circumstances of her.
But she let him stay close, leaning her head slightly toward his own to rest for a few moments before he pulled away hesitantly and she wanted to whine to him to have him remain before he spoke of bringing one more thing and reached for the basket. Her eyes followed him and watched while he pulled out a bottle of a red liquid and a bag of two pastries that had her eyes slipping from the basket to his face as he continued to speak. She chuckled quietly in response, but she understood. Every time she had shown up, too, there had been wine or alcohol involved. And if she was being honest, it was a kind shift in their time together.
Gladly accepting one of the pastries, she grinned to him when he spoke of drinking from the bottle. “Ah, so we are going to be barbarians now?” She winked with a quiet laugh. “I don’t mind sharing with you at all.” She finally said. Sharing a bottle was the least of it all when they had done far more intricate and intimate things. It was barely even on the scale for her. And while Bastien took a sip from the bottle, she bit into the pastry and sighed into it happily. It was beyond anything she’d had – only spending enough for making more savory things rather than desserts. And it was a wonderful change to the normalcy she had grown accustomed to.
“These are incredible! Did you get them from Amalia’s bakery?” She asked with a tilt of her head after she had finished her first bite and eyed the red juice that she was also extremely excited to try.
"We must all escape to barbarism sometimes, I think. Humans were not designed to always be polite company." He tipped the bottle back down and passed it to her, thinking that in that moment (sat in the starlight under a wind-swept tree, sat on a beautifully embroidered blanket, drinking from a glass bottle and both very good looking) they must have looked like a renaissance painting.
He took a bite of the pastry and smiled -- it was not dissimilar to the Sfogliatella from home, at least the casing itself. Bastien had not realised until he had come here just how much he had loved the food of his home, how much he missed it. Even if he couldn't taste this fully it was a welcome trip back. "Yes. I was delighted to find the shop."
As he ate and Rexanna drank he looked out into the distance, unsure if he was seeing past the barrier or not at this distance (he thought he could see a faint green place with the same lights, so perhaps). "Sometimes..." He began to say, in a quiet and almost uncharacteristically nervous voice, "I worry that when the barrier falls, or at some other point, those of us who appeared here could just as easily return home. And as much as I loved Venice...I have things to lose here now."
With these last words he placed a gentle hand on her knee.
Rexanna grinned to him in response to his comment. “Perhaps you’re right.” She hummed with a small playful wink sent his way as he offered the bottle to her. She was glad to take it, curious what kind of liquid it was and how it would taste. But she waited until she was done with her pastry to finish it off with a drink of the liquid, and listened as he spoke of finding Amalia’s shop. She nodded and looked out over the darkening world around them. “She’s a kind woman. Told me all about Longnight. If she hadn’t I probably would have tried to stay home instead of going to the Rathskeller.” She mused, glancing to him with a small sheepish smile. “I’m glad I went there, though.” She offered before tipping the bottle back and taking a big drink from it.
It was sweet and tart and held no burn and distraction from the alcohol she usually drank if it were a flavored one. And she was excited by the prospect of such an idea, to indulge in something that tasted like heaven without any side effects other than sweetness. And it had been such a thoughtful thing that she was a bit sad deep within that he couldn’t exactly taste the true intensity of swirling flavors. For a moment, however, she thought that he too might be sad about that as his demeanor changed and he suddenly grew nervous. Her head shifted to him and offered him the bottle again if he wanted it. And as he spoke of his worries, she grew somewhat concerned too.
She didn’t think it was a possibility, that they could be thrown back to where they came from. And she refused to think it would happen. But Bastien’s hand reached for her knee and she leaned into him, intertwining an arm with his as she leaned against his arm and shoulder. “I think… that if they were to do something like that, they’d at least give us a choice in the matter.” She suggested, head tilting up to let her sapphire gaze rest on his face. “And if they did make us go back home, I’d gladly go to Venice with you.” and it was true. If she was to return home, there was nothing left for her aside from the surety of destruction and death. And she had no wishes to return to it.
"I am glad you did too. Not only for the time we spent together, but for your safety. I did not expect it to be so...violent, so lethal, in Longnight. It truly shocked me. This world..continues to." Bastien grew quiet for a moment, pensive, looking out into the distance and taking a bite of his pastry. When he spoke again it was considered, as if he had thought of the words before. "I know...my choice to fake my death, right after was...likely tactless. And...I want to apologise. To you, at least. I know I cannot apologise to anyone else without giving up the ruse. But I am sorry for any grief I gave you, even if only for a moment, cara."
He had once sworn to never apologise for his choices, a decision born of a required defensiveness in the world he had inhabited. But here, where he had closer friends and realer consequences, where death was something dramatic and close and personal because of the close space...Bastien was beginning to realise toying with people's emotions was a poor game.
Smiling as she leaned in close, Bastien moved to kiss her on the nose. "My fear is that we will not be able to choose. That as we came, we will be flung back. Suddenly, like this were a dream. But...still, that means a great deal to me, Rexanna. Thank you."
He was quiet, but he spoke the same thoughts Rexanna thought of Longnight. Those that had died, those that had opened the doors when they shouldn’t have (she was one of the latter) and how dark and disastrous it had been. How she had helped Jigano hold a bloody and burnt Rory while Vervain healed his wounds enough for him to survive. And she sighed quietly, nodding in agreement. “I never wish to do that again.” She murmurs quietly, eyes shifting from staring out over the fields and fading light to return to Bastien when he spoke next. And she nodded to him with that too. She wouldn’t sugar coat it, not something like that. But he was apologizing, and her hand tightened around his arm gently in comfort despite the hint of understanding deep within her indigo eyes.
“Thank you.” She said quietly, wondering if this was a humbling experience for him – if he would have managed to fix himself without a divine intervention with the Voice. But that was in the past now, and she knew that there was nothing that could be done now. There were others, however, who disapproved of it entirely. And she thought of Jigano and the quiet flame he had when she told him of Bastien’s ascension. “There are others who might have questions, I hope you can handle it well.” She frowned slightly, but rested her head against his arm for a moment as she remained close.
But as Rexanna looked up to him and told him she’d go to Venice with him, he smiled to her and kissed her on the nose before speaking. And with the revelation of his fear, the fire (that inferno) sparked in her eyes like a cold fire. “I won’t go back.” Her voice was steeled, that same kind of diplomatic mask she had worn years before, but now it held a certain flame beneath it that melded and blossomed. “I…” She had to look away from him then, turning her head to look the canvas to prevent from saying what she wanted to. That she’d rather die than return back to Halyven or Asciend. That she’d gladly take her last breaths so long as she never had to step foot there again. “Even if this ended up as a dream, it’s the best I’ve ever had.” She finally said, looking back up to him and tugging him closer to her as if she’d never let him go.
"I worry we may have to." Bastien sighed. The Naturals here seemed resigned to Longnight as a part of life, and he didn't know if the barrier going down would have anything to do with it. Perhaps next year they could find somewhere quiet, maybe underground, lock and barricade the doors and stay safely in bed with some food and each other. It certainly sounded more pleasant than the terrifying time he'd spent in the Rathskeller.
She accepted his apology which drew a smile from him, which turned to a soft laugh when she warned him of questions. "Rexanna, I have spent my whole life dealing with people with questions. Let them come." If he had known she spoke of Jigano he would have laughed even more, considering the man a bore and no one he was interested in impressing.
Rexanna told him she wouldn't go back and despite all evidence that it was out of their control, he believed her.
He was pulled closer and he went gladly, slowly leaning back to have them both laid down on the blanket next to each other. While he could not feel the cold he looked up to see the wind in the tree's leaves and concerned for Rexanna, pulled the edge of the blanket up over her. "You must tell me if you are cold. I would not want to freeze you on our first date."
He smiled and laughed to her, acknowledging that those with questions would come to him. She didn’t doubt him in the slightest when he spoke of dealing with people with questions his entire life – and she nodded with a smile with as much understanding as she could. She hoped he knew what he was doing, but she also knew somehow deep down that he could handle it – whatever it was that came at him. And she let that souring conversation drop in favor for finishing her pastry and enjoying the juice that Bastien had brought.
She pulled him closer and he responded in kind, leaning the both of them back to the soft star flecked blanket that sat beneath them. She snuggled up closer to him, watching the grasses move with the chilled wind as he watched the tree above them. As he moved a part of the blanket over her, she smiled and held it tight to her as well. But as he spoke of the chill in the air that he could not feel, she laughed quietly and nodded. “Oh, you’ll know.” She said, turning her head up to look at him and offer a genuine smile.
But she wasn’t very cold, just yet. While Bastien wasn’t the furnace he used to be, he wasn’t exactly freezing cold, and part of her own body heat mixed with the reflection from him and the corner of the blanket that covered her, she’d likely be fine. After all, she did wear a nice warm sweater to help keep her warm as he suggested meeting at dusk. Even though Flowerbirth brought warmth in the day, it still brought a cold chill at night that she had tried her best to be prepared for.
“This was absolutely wonderful, Bastien. I couldn’t have thought of a better first date if I tried.” Her voice was soft as she regarded him, her sapphire gaze slipping along the panes of his face with a smile as she wrapped her arm around him.
