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!
Melita wasn’t a person given over to nostalgia. She’d grown and prospered and been left behind between dozens of ventures, and could do the same to a thousand different places. The Hollowed Grounds was no better, but she couldn’t help the innate curiosity brimming over her system – and once she was done talking with Iskra, managed to snag her way towards the outer reaches.
Of course, the island scenery was even more visible here than it had been when she and Jack had floated over with the Ark. Her nose wrinkled in spite of herself, not adverse to change, but certainly not sure what to make of this one. The isles, scattered amidst sea beds and rivers, might’ve held a glistening and familiar glow of antlers nearby, but she didn’t give chase nor sing songs.
Instead she stared at the portions of open plains and shrugged her shoulders, gazing down at her companions. “Well. Let’s practice something then,” she offered, as if it mattered, and began to pull at her bag, snagging at some equipment and armaments. Might as well make use of the scenery and surroundings; like olden days.
It was rare that Edmund went to the Hollowed Grounds, but he'd been making the effort lately now that Dantalion had become the leader. It was important to support his fellow Ancients, especially in endeavors that spread Mother's influence and power. Part of that involved familiarizing himself with the territory. Setting out with Splat, Edmund had gone to the Outer Brambles to explore. Not before bundling up to a truly comical level of course. Three pairs of socks and two scarves included. Unlike in the Climb or in Torchline, it was far colder here. He'd been forced to use his fire magic repeatedly to stay warm. He probably looked like an odd snowman.
Yet it had been worth the trip. The islands were beautiful, even as cold as they were. The Ancient wouldn't be able to stay for long but the snow made interesting shapes on the brambles and as he'd walked through the terrain, Edmund had made a game of trying to identify shapes in them, not unlike one would do with clouds. The grey sky made it hard to use actual clouds so he had to make do.
It was as he turned along the path (one of the few not completely covered in snow) that he spotted an unfamiliar woman and her companions. Seeing the dragon Edmund acted fast and blocked Splat from floating over. "No." Why the Darkling still thought dragons were food, he'd never know.
Realizing that the woman had probably heard him, the Ancient gave a small wave, "Hello."
Control over the darkling would probably be for the best, considering Melita was just as likely to annihilate and brutalize more so than her companions; so the murmur of another caused her eyes to narrow briefly as she straightened out from her search. Snagging at her quiver and placing them along her back, she turned, glancing at the stranger (who shouldn’t have been, given who he was and his mother, but growth, time, and changes meant the Honeybee remained uncertain). “Hello.”
Waiting for something else, like a threat, her head tilted, and then she shrugged her shoulders, glancing at her companions before maneuvering onward. Drawing her bow from her bracelet, a comfortable and threatening ease descended over her movements, even amidst the snow. “What brings you out here?” she figured she’d start, since the snowman didn’t seem inclined to do much else.
Edmund really wasn't sure what to do. He didn't know her, and he'd clearly interrupted her. But upon seeing the woman draw a bow, his interest was piqued. "You're an archer?" Glancing at their surroundings he smiled, "Do you want to practice together?" It's certainly been a while since he'd shot with another person. Had his Mum been the last?
Shrugging off his outermost jacket, Edmun revealed a bow strapped to his back. The exercise of training would hopefully keep the Ancient warm enough to stave off stasis but if the woman agreed, this would probably still need to be a brief session. Edmund braced his bow as he introduced himself, "I'm Edmund. The Darkling is Splat." If he was shooed off, the Ancient would find another place to train now that he was in the mood for it.
The Honeybee was more than an archer, but the notion would do for now. “We can,” and she shrugged, gesturing forward, towards trails she’d thought she’d once known. “Figured I could hunt in the meantime too,” and if they found a worthy target, then she’d be all the more pleased; capable of taking it home via the skyport and hastening back home without much delay.
Her eyes narrowed slightly at his name though, because she did recognize that. “Maeve’s kid?” Waiting for some mode of response, and ignoring the Darkling unless he ventured too close to her own companions (and craved being blasted away for the effort), her head tilted vaguely, before she started moving again, light steps arching their way through the snow. “I’m Melita.” Pointing back towards the vampire gourd following in her tracks, she figured she’d introduce her stalwart souls too. “That’s Fangorn,” and then shrugging her shoulders so the little dragon maneuvered outward, she snagged at the bronze scales. “And Sila.”
Edmund nodded in assent, "Productive." Outside of bloodlust or procuring offerings, the Ancient didn't hunt often. Doing so as training would be a new adventure. Maeve's name had his tail flicking, "Yes. You know my Mum?" The number of individuals who identified him via Maeve seemed to never stop growing.
Falling into step beside the woman, the young Ancient watched the companions curiously. "It's a pleasure to meet you all." Behaving at the moment, Splat lazily floated by his bonded's shoulder as the Ancient walked. The creature's form rippled at the notion of a hunt and the potential for a snack kept him from disturbing the dragon and gourd.
As they walked, the soft crunch of snow came from their left. Between the trees the shadow of a luxere emerged.
Nodding along at the notion, because most of Torchline knew Maeve (she’d been their Queen after all), Melita glanced over her shoulder at Edmund. Perhaps he was far younger than she could surmise, between aging at shrines and other dynamics, to not realize how far his mother’s influence entangled. “How’s she doing?” Last she’d known, the woman had been searching for well…him. Seeing him wandering about now, she figured she’d done so, but hadn’t seen her since.
Fangorn bobbed his head and waved his vines, a far more courteous greeting than any other extended towards Edmund, before her attention caught at the movement and motion of a luxere.
And her heart lurched – because while very few things stirred her to not eradicate and demolish, luxere were amongst them. She didn’t have the means and measures to maul something that had protected them so many times within the Hollowed Grounds, and it didn’t break her apart when it saw them, and took off, glowing antlers crashing through the brush. “All right, not that one then.” Shrugging, because she had other intel, she motioned ahead. “I was told there were some turkeys in the upcoming clearing,” seen by hunters – unless they were pulling her leg.
Edmund grimaced for a moment, "Decent. I haven't spoken to her much since I got back." They were certainly due a long talk but they'd both been avoiding it. It'd be an emotionally exhausting endeavor but one that would have to happen eventually. But at least they were both home now.
The Ancient was surprised when Melita turned their group away from the luxere but didn't argue, "Alright." Not knowing about the history of the creatures and the Grounds, he simply assumed that she had an Attuned friend with the shift. He imagined it'd be difficult to hunt a creature if it looked like a form that your friend took at times.
Turkey was a suitable prey and Edmund picked up his pace so that they would arrive sooner. Spotting a stray feather on the ground he nodded towards it with a whisper, "I think your intel was correct." If he strained his ears, he could just barely make out the sound of movement up ahead.
Where Melita would’ve likely done anything to get her mother back, she found Edmund’s response…kinda lacking. Narrowing her eyes a little, she then shrugged her shoulders, proceeding onwards, intending to find the little morsels and tendrils of clues; patterns of tracks, machinations and movements of feathers.
And lo and behold, the hunters hadn’t been fucking with her. With a wry little grin, she snagged at her bow again, ready, willing, and able whenever the opportunity came. “I can send Sila to track them faster,” and she nodded to the little dragon – who eventually, with a job in mind, burst from behind the veil of crimson hair, and with a streak of quiet bronze, was off into the midst.
After a few seconds, the stealthy and young lizard had pinpointed them – and the Honeybee grinned, only slightly malicious. “This way,” she whispered, snagging at the left and stealthily extending her long limbs through the snow.
Edmund barely managed to stop himself from startling when Sila surged forward. The little dragon was fast. Clearing his throat he nodded at Melita, "Very well." Greatly amused at his bonded's embarrassment, Splat's edges rippled as the darkling floated after Sila lazily.
The Honeybee's clear excitement was both unnerving and contagious. It reminded the young Ancient of his kin and Edmund could feel his bloodlust surge forward. Thankfully it was well satisfied at the moment, but the promise of a looming hunt had it stirring. Running a tongue over his fangs, the young Ancient followed Melita eagerly as they made their way.
Luckily for Edmund, Melita’s attention was entirely on their upcoming hunt, otherwise there would’ve been much to say on the startled motions. They wouldn’t have to traipse for long, regardless, as her long limbs carried them deeper into snow, and following over turkey tracks. Not far in the distance came the sounds of the birds; occasional gobbles, tweets, and noises made to their kin back and forth. The Honeybee hoped it was enough for a distraction or deterrent, and subsequently tucked herself into some nearby bushes, presuming the Ancient would do the same.
“All right, I’m going to shoot for that one there,” pointing, while whispering, towards a large hen. They wouldn’t have many opportunities, given how quick the creatures could move. “Where are you aiming?”
Unfamiliar with actively hunting with a bow, Edmund followed Melita's lead. He ducked behind a bush not far from her and drew his bow. Nodding he called his target, "The hen near the snowdrift." The hen was slightly smaller than Melita's but close enough to the other hens that if he missed, he'd likely hit a different individual.
Upon Melita's approval, Edmund took a deep breath. Holding for a moment he let his arrow fly and grinned when his arrow hit true. It wasn't a perfect shot hitting the hen's flank and not her heart, but it was still enough to down the avian.
“Make sure you look-,” she started to whisper some direction before he launched, but it scarcely seemed to matter as his arrow sank into a flank, rather than directly into the bird, and they all started to scatter. Quick and efficient, if a bit irked by another’s impulses (and certainly never her own), the Honeybee volleyed and rallied her own assault. It cut straight through the hen’s chest, and she fell before a squawk could get in.
But with two of their own either struggling or deceased, even the dimmest of the flock saw they were under duress and threat. Panicked movements and motions began in all directions, and Melita had absolute intent on following. “See if you can get another,” and she moved after several who ducked to the left.
Edmund only processed that Melita had more to say once he had already let his first arrow fly. His lack of manners stung, and he resolved to apologize once their hunt was complete. As it was, there was little time for such things. The flock was scattering, and time was of the essence.
"Understood." With a brief nod Edmund notched another arrow and targeted one of the birds heading towards the right. With how comfortable Melita had been shooting her first turkey, Edmund had little doubt of her success. With how rude he'd been, the young Ancient also wasn't inclined to argue and potentially worsen the slight.
Letting his next arrow loose it flew and sunk squarely into the neck of one of the fleeing turkeys. Tail perking with delight, he quickly moved to notch another arrow.
