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!
11-03-2023, 07:41 PM (This post was last modified: 12-26-2023, 08:48 PM by Evie.)
when hope and peace begin to fray Know that daybreak is not far away
Evie had first noticed them on her morning run. Given the darkness of pre-dawn, the glow had been particularly easy to spot - and once she’d quickly identified the plant and realized it was not a new species, Evie had spent the rest of her jog frowning to herself.
Reports came in quickly after that, the phenomena noticed by hunters and farmers alike. She’d had to wait until after the workday was done to investigate, but now she and Deimos have plenty of time to try and decipher the mystery of the flower before them.
Kneeling in the cold early foliage of the Greenwing, Evie uses one gloved finger to caress the glowing petal of the Frostbloom. “Nothing ever changes around here without being a concern,” she mutters mostly to herself. If it were simply a new species she would be less suspicious, but clearly it’s not. “It’s too widely spread a phenomena to be something related to one patch of soil or some kind of local magical interference.” She shivers at the cold surrounding the bloom, frowning harder.
Change, no matter the circumstance or effects, always raised the tension through his shoulders. They’d been expecting something ever since Safrin announced her disappearance, but they’d been so immersed into sharing the notions, planning and plotting intervals to improve Halo, and everything else in between, that this hadn’t been the expected occurrence. If that’s what this was anyway – or just a strange coincidence. Deimos, naturally and pragmatically, wasn’t inclined to believe in too many twists of fate.
Crouching beside the Evergreen, and shoving Belial away when the peryton seemed readily inclined to reach out with his muzzle, the long exhalation of air swindled its way through his lungs. “Of course not,” he murmured in response, just as quiet and low, dry and irritated. He didn’t even like the way the thing pulsed; an eerie glow, reminding him of something dark and sharp, a memory he couldn’t quite place. He didn’t remove his gloves, not quite foolish enough to reach out and touch it with bare hands, but the cold immersed around it left a slight curl to his nose, a narrowing of his eyes in perusal and study. “I can try to alter it with my magic?” Just to see if it could be; if this was something disease affiliated. "I wondered if it had anything to do with some of the change in weather too."
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
when hope and peace begin to fray Know that daybreak is not far away
Though she’s certain Deimos can keep Belial properly away from the plants, her eyes sharpen as they turn to the peryton, tensed and ready to help divert. The plants make her uncomfortable, tense. It reminds her of the necessity of Vi’s roses, of the blight and the sickness that had descended upon Caido in a veritable plague. It reminds her of desperately trying every tincture and even mild poison to try to chase it out of Abasi, her friends, her family. The bitter smell of the flower seems to taunt her.
Deimos’ presence at her side keeps it at bay, but it lingers in the back of her mind, waiting for an opening.
“I’ll try to heal it first. Then we should try each element if we can - see if it interacts at all.” So little had come of the investigations into the previous blight that she isn’t holding out hope for any reactions, but it’s her duty to try. This is her realm, without question. As she lets her healing magic flow outward past her gloves and into the flower, she considers Deimos’ theory. “It’s entirely possible. But that would mean the weather is unnatural too - which we already suspected. So it’s something much bigger then.” No mere storms in the wake of a strange meteor. No, this would mean something far more dire.
The peryton, slightly miffed he wasn’t allowed to partake in either touching, ruining, or joining in whatever his small family was studying, took to the skies, pouting all the way. Deimos allowed it, rather than some other command dominated by irritation, and Zuriel looked calmly beyond, perhaps the only one here with any serenity and ease to her existence.
For he had the same wonderings; the blight, and the subsequent disease thereafter, had felled many, including himself. While the Voice was gone, it didn’t mean after-effects couldn’t linger, or that something new wasn’t rising over the surface. Safrin had said as much – a threat beyond their world. And they couldn’t simply bury their heads in the sand and hope for the best.
But which actions were they meant to take?
Nodding at Evie’s suggestion, he leaned back, watching, studying, to see if anything changed with the healing threads lingering, steadying, towards the plant. A restless anticipation settled over him, pondering, knowing it couldn’t be that simple, and yet, still holding onto a notion that maybe that was all it would take. Some mending proportions to the greater masses of plants, and nothing would be worse for the wear. “I already talked to Kiada. The Grounds have constant rain.” Which meant the changes could be over multiple landscapes. “I am going to send out letters to other leaders. See if anything is happening elsewhere.”
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
when hope and peace begin to fray Know that daybreak is not far away
She had suspected it of course, but she is disappointed all the same when her healing magic seems to inspire no changes in the strange plant. Again that old feeling of helplessness rises in her throat. What use was magic when it was so often bested by greater forces than she could ever dream of becoming?
Taking her hands away, she tilts her chin to gesture Deimos to try. His magic is far more varied and powerful than her own, and she can't help the vain hope that swells beneath the worry. Worry that only increases with news of the Grounds and Kiada's plight. Suddenly she's all the more grateful that Deimos had crafted her a coat to keep her warm.
"I was hoping to see Frey soon. Maybe I can take this plant with me and ask them about it. If anyone would know, it would be Frey." Her voice is soft with awe that still feels new even after two years. Frey's presence in her life has been hard to get used to, but it's a welcome change after a lifetime of silence.
The nothingness caused him to bite down on another sigh. The restless disappointment poked at him, drew a jab within his ribcage, and while he knew he shouldn’t be discouraged by something as mundane as a plant, the notions behind it weren’t simple. The complexities of Caido, and the enigmas coiled throughout were enough to make his head spin. And no matter how many machinations and calculations he could contort, some still couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stick. They weren’t on airs of desperation, certainly not yet, but the lingering feeling in the notches of his spine, of dread and consternation and trepidation, all resided too deeply to ignore. “That is wise.”
Nodding in the vastness of silence, he pulsed the earthen magic to the forefront, sending it to unfurl along the roots, to inspire a juxtaposition of rising forth, rather than an eerie glow. A return to previous frostbloom likeness –
But all he got in return was a vast and sudden cold, frigid and unwinding, sent back into the reaches of his skin, gnashing and forbearing across the bridges and surfaces of his veins. With a vicious hiss and sudden chattering of his teeth, he pulled the incantations back, striving to cease the shivering along his bones and marrow. “It did not care for that.” On a curl of his nose, he eased the fire magic through his blood instead, waiting to heat back up. “Do not touch it.”
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
when hope and peace begin to fray Know that daybreak is not far away
With her plan in mind - and already mentally coordinating what shrine she might go to, and how it might be best to perhaps visit one in Torchline so she can also tell Hadama of their coming wedding - Evie tries to focus solely on the experimentation they do together. Though her own attempts had been fruitless, it seems Deimos has gotten a reaction out of it - though she tenses and reaches for him when he becomes evident it's not a good reaction.
Already, however, he has pulled away from the plant and cut whatever strange bounce-back had been occurring. Still, it's something to note. Something to warn their citizens and fellow leaders about.
Though he doesn't need steadying, she keeps her hand on his shoulder, frowning. "Are you okay? What happened?" Glancing back at the flower, she considers her options for transporting it to Frey safely. "I'll put it in a locked container to take it to the shrine. No such thing as being too cautious." Evie also doesn't want to risk it spreading outside of Halo, if that would even be possible.
The frigidity spread rapidly along gloved fingers and through his veins, and while the Sword, and Reaper, had always craved the affinity of the ice, he’d also known how to safeguard against it. There was naught to do against this current predicament except wait for the fire in his soul to rise and challenge, to seep through bone. A few more shudders and shivers went through him involuntarily; had he had the ability to simply smother it and endure, he would have. He couldn’t fathom someone touching it directly – and finally permitted another breath to forge through slowly chattering teeth.
“Very cold,” was all he managed at first, the rumble crackling through lungs, before the fury of the flames within began to layer and linger; folding over him like a warm balm, a favored inferno. “I am fine,” a reassurance that she wouldn’t have to worry – the residual side effects were already wearing away, and he could hear Zuriel’s footsteps approaching. “Give me a moment and I can make one,” for it was taking a few more multitudes to ensure nothing within his soul had been frozen solid.
It just hasn’t been what he’d expected – which had been the source of the acrimony recently, and seemingly, all along.
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
when hope and peace begin to fray Know that daybreak is not far away
She hovers, which is not her normal predilection given all the mending skills in her repertoire. Unfortunately, Deimos' resistance to such magic often leaves her helpless in these exact ways, and all she can do is lay her arm around his shoulders and anxiously watch his face as he shudders through the cold. It makes her feel helpless and restless, which in turn makes her feel angry, temper as red-hot and quick to rise as any of the Evergreen's other emotions that lie eternally on her sleeve. Angry at this strange, invasive plant that heralds change Evie doesn't want in her life right now.
"Don't rush yourself," she chides automatically, mere bluster that badly hides her concern even as he tells her not to worry. "We don't know if there are any other effects hiding under the cold. Don't make anything until Zuriel heals you." She can hear the mare approaching, faithful and steadfast in her dedication to keeping Deimos from permanent harm. Similarly, though Evie isn't injured, she can feel Micah hurrying back from where he'd been prowling around haughtily sneering at the invasive plants, clearly disturbed by his bonded's sudden worry. And all Evie can do is wait, wishing she had some sort of diagnostic tool instead of having to hang in limbo, awaiting any news from Zuriel that Deimos could share.
Another bout of reassurance threatened against the corner of his mouth; for he was one who worried endlessly about others, and never about himself. Being the marred and wounded one, while however rare or sparse nowadays, also sent a discomforting indent down the length of his spine, and instead of vocalizing the notions, he simply nodded, letting her chide even as the ice began to shift and glide outward, away, away, away from his veins.
Zuriel’s horn suddenly on his shoulder did far more wonders too – the healing pressing down into his soul and frame in sinuous, mending properties, extending towards his ribs, his marrow, his bones, until it washed away the frigid proportions. In its place was the wicked energy of his fire, and a growing semblance of respect for a plant he didn’t understand, and the enigma behind it.
Snagging at a treat from his pockets, and granting the mare one for her dutiful work, he turned his attentions back to the Evergreen. “I am fine. Promise.” The incantations surged once more, and creation alignments flickered between the palms of his hands, beginning to grant what she’d needed to snag at the flora.
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
when hope and peace begin to fray Know that daybreak is not far away
Evie trusts Zuriel's powers as surely as her own, but she still watches on as the mare enacts her healing, lip snagged between her teeth and brows furrowed. This reminds her far too much of the Bligh, and the uselessness of her powers even then. Back then, her family and loved ones had been largely spared the affliction. Seeing even the smallest variation of harm that she cannot touch on Deimos - something foreign and distinctly magical instead of standard colds or lacerations - makes her feel queasy.
His assurances come moments before he begins crafting a flask for her, and though she frowns, she doesn't say anything - too lost in her thoughts. Using her magic to separate the flower from the earth and levitate it, she secures it inside the vessel Deimos has provided and seals it firmly thereafter. It still feels unsafe as she takes it from his hands, but at least nothing happens through the glass.
"Now we hope Frey will answer," she murmurs because she knows that there is still the potential for silence no matter how she has devoted herself to the deity. She is still Abandoned after all. Tucking the container - and the plant within - into her bag, Evie turns her frown toward Deimos as she reaches for his hand. "We should tell the citizens to avoid them. I can draft something when we return home." Sighing, her free hand comes up to wipe over her face, weighed down by the worry on her shoulders. "I don't like this. I wish peace could have lasted a little longer." But wishes have never carried much weight in Caido.
The blight, and the sickness that came thereafter, carried its own burden on the Sword. Harsh reminders and outliers curled right over the brambles of his memory, sticking outwards as warnings and fixtures; from Kiada being afflicted with the blackened state, to himself and multitudes of others on the second iteration. The potential for widespread suffering didn’t evade him, and there were some hopes instilled that this wouldn’t be the case again – but if it wasn’t, he didn’t have an answer for the hows and whys.
But they’d try, as they always did.
A long breath unfurled as patted Zuriel on the nose once more, and took Evie’s hand in the other, watching quietly as the plant was sealed away behind the box’s clasped jaws and hinges. He wished he could promise that Frey would answer, that Nature would arrive, but with Abandoned blood, the silence was always possible. Instead, he bowed his head and rumbled, proceeding to turn back towards home. “Agreed. And see if there are others.” In regions, in the Wilds, across kingdoms – if this was more than just a singular fluke. Zuriel’s footsteps followed and Belial lurked overhead, and he had to wonder what exactly they were facing ahead. “So we make it where we can,” the Sword prospered on another long and collected breath – on weddings, on pieces and fragments of serenity, building Halo and themselves upwards so they could survive and sustain and remain even when chaos hit. “Did you have any thoughts about what we wanted to do for the region this season?”
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
when hope and peace begin to fray Know that daybreak is not far away
Though the discomfort lingers on both sides, there is no use lingering here. Standing, Evie reaches for Deimos' hand instinctively and finds his own already doing the same. Gloved fingers intertwining, Evie squeezes gently, taking comfort in his presence as she always does. Whatever these plants might mean, whatever mystery they may present or harm they may foreshadow, they will face it together as they always have.
With the prospect of building their own peace, Evie tries to lighten her own heart - and hopefully his as well - and wrinkles her nose playfully. "Does that mean we have to send more letters? We've had an excessive amount of meetings lately, I'm beginning to miss the early days of Halo when it was too cold and secluded for many visitors," she laughs, grateful for the ways their kingdom has grown but also wishing they could shut the world away with one giant, mountainous door for a season or two.
"I think we should continue focusing on Halo herself instead of trading. We have had plenty of relationship-building unrelated to trading." Stormbreak's Abandoned changes, and assisting Noah in the Hollowed Grounds, were all positive steps forward politically. "I'd rather focus on training or city upgrades." Though she isn't sure which is preferable at this point.
At the initial inquiry, he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose too, unfurling a low grumble that caught and measures exactly how he felt about the constant flow of communication. “Gods,” and he shook his head, reminding himself it was better than congregating time and time again to share the information. “Probably – and it is far easier than attending multitudes of meetings. Wish we had more answers that came along with them though.” Nothing more had been said about crash sites, and some minor notions about plants, spilling across pages where they intersected and wove together into a much larger bramble of the unknown. “We will have things to celebrate soon enough,” and here he snickered, striving to change the subject to something they could at least agree on looking forward to. Maybe that would break apart the heavy weight threatening over shoulders.
But with those notions, he squeezed her fingers, marching onwards as the towering spires came into view again. “I would like to focus on training the soldiers,” at all times; so he arched his brow and looked in her direction, expecting a tease and retort. However, he’d offer an appeal too, always eager to calculate and machinate for impending circumstances. “How would you feel about improving the infirmary? In case these plants, or anything else, brings about more issues?”
what does it mean to look upon a ruin we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
