Stone cold

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

In the late morning, a drizzle began to fall over the Outer Brambles. Treetops veiled themselves in the haze of low hanging clouds, and from the ground a scent rose of damp and moldering things, juxtaposed against the floral tang of new growth. Among flowering brambles the birds were busy putting the last touches on their nests, while the undergrowth was full of life and signs of movement as rodents and squirrels plundered the last of Frostfall's stored treasures.

A pair of blackbirds kept darting in and out of their nest, scurrying back and forth to sate the needs of chirping hatchlings. They had chosen to build in a different location this year, nestling their young in the lap of a stone statue. Lichen and moss had long since taken hold on the surface, and the visage of a young woman with large horns jutting from her head was all but gone in the verdure. Curled up by the base of a tree with her arms cradling her knees, the figurine had been there for a long time; long enough that the wildlife was no longer startled by the presence of a person in their territory. This one did not move, after all. It was no threat to them.

As the rain persisted, drops of moisture darkened the gray of the stone in runnels and streaks, and from an angle made it look as though the statue was weeping.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

The drizzle will soon become a harsh downpour - Danta knows that for absolute certain. And yet here he is, trudging through the Outer Brambles in a fur-lined coat that makes him seem a lot larger than he is, the wide hood drawn up around his face to keep him warm and dry. The thing about coming to power as an Ancient - and the addition of a very large bonfire front and centre in the Grounds - is that people have begun to notice their race in ways that they previously may not have cared about.

So when a hunter brought news of a suspicious, horned statue out on the fringes of the region, what once might have been nothing more than a curious phenomenon becomes a potential rescue mission. This might also explain the covered cart that Danta tugs behind him, filled with dry kindling.

And soon enough he comes upon the sorry statue of the girl, and cold blue eyes narrow at the birds using her as a nesting place. It's with very little care for them that he bats them away, destroying the nest in her lap and carefully pulling away the moss and lichen from her head. "Well, well," he mumbles, "aren't you in a sorry state?"

It takes little effort to build the fire around the statue, though Danta's brows furrow as the rain increases. Once he's ready and manages to get a spark from a tinderbox, his magic can take over. Manipulating the flames and coaxing them to grow in heat and size, they greedily eat up the fuel he's placed around the girl. Soon enough the statue against the tree is bathed in a merry orange blaze. And all there is left to do is wait.

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Remnants of lichen and moss blackened and shriveled as the heat intensified. Hissing and spitting under the flames, all the vegetation burned off until only bare stone remained. As warmth soaked into it, the limbs of the statue began to soften. Slowly, gradually, gray feldspar lightened into fair skin, into supple flesh and blood as a petrified heart began to beat again.

To Maea, it was like rising up from some dark abyss. Bubbles of awareness that shimmered and popped, restoring one sense after the other. Itching, prickling numbness intensified and faded, like the thawing of frozen limbs after too much time in the snow. Delicious warmth enveloped her and for some time all she knew was contentment.

When she came to, Maea found herself curled up on a bed of smoldering embers. Cold, damp air bit against her bare skin and a shudder wrecked the thin frame. Looking down, she registered the embers, the tongues of bluish fire that lapped against her. Panic lanced through her mind, ingrained and habitual, and she shot up on her knees – only to realize that she was fine. More than fine; she felt good. Scents and sensations assaulted her in an onslaught of information both familiar and foreign, yet it was good because for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, she could feel again.

Dazed, she looked about to find her bearings and found her gaze snagging on the figure of a stranger. The heavy coat he had wrapped himself into made her uncomfortably aware of her own stateof undress; awkwardly, she shifted in an attempt to cover herself up.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

"Oh, please, don't mind your modesty on my account," Danta croons, his smile crooked and pleased even from beneath the depths of his hood. "Good morning, by the way." Not that the intensifying rainfall is particularly good but it could be a lot worse if the state of Maea is anything to go by. "You've been out here a while, apparently. Became a lovely little statue out in the woods."

He isn't the chivalrous sort, but he's still got a soft spot for his own kind, so at her continued discomfort he shrugs out of the heavy coat and holds it out for her to shrug into. Beneath, clad in a deep red waistcoat and a black shirt, with fingers bejewelled and fair hair tousled by his hood, the Maverick does not look as though he really belongs out in the Outer Brambles. "I'm Danta," he introduces. "The rain's only going to get worse, so I suggest we head back to town."

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Her only response to the salacious comment was a soft scowl, annoyance winning over embarrassment and somehow making it all feel better. If he wasn't making a bit deal out of it... Still, Maea remained a bit out of it even as the coat was offered to her. She only slowly came to her feet and slipped into the garment. Far too big, it pooled around her feet, the arms dangling a good bit past her fingertips. Warmth lingered in the cloth though; pulling it snug around herself, she buried her nose into the trim and sighed contentedly as the shivers subsided.

"Thank you," she mumbled, clearing rust from her vocal chords with a cough. "I'm Maea."

It was a lot to take in. The burned out embers beneath her feet, statues, the flamboyant Danta so out of place in the brambled woodland - the horns on his head drew a second glance, but no comment - and then the matter of where, when, why... Yet it had to be said, Maea wasn't entirely unaccustomed to waking up in strange places. She had learned long ago to let the details explain themselves. Of more immediate concern was the strange sensation of the tail that slithered about her legs with a mind of its own, and the new-yet-not weight dragging on her head. Reaching up to drag silky strands of salt-white hair from her face, her wrist bumped into the smooth curve of a horn and disrupted the habitual gesture. Leaving sooty smears on the white bone and her cheek, she detangled her fingers with a look of annoyance, scowl deepening as she absently sorted through her memories.

"A while, you said... How long? What year is it?" Without protest she nodded acceptance of his suggestions to leave and followed after Danta, letting him choose the destination. It was all the same to her.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

"Anything to help a sister," Danta purrs, gesturing for her to fall into step with him and offering out his arm for her to take, if she'd like. "Nice to meet you, Maea. It's 317, last I checked. Flowerbirth." Raising his eyebrows in a silent remark of I know right - because for all he knows, she might have been asleep for seasons or centuries. Regardless, he gets them on the right path back towards the Inner Quarter, keeping an eye out for a skyship or a wagon to make the trip a shorter one.

"I'll take you back to the Dusklight - it's a little place I own," he says, before recalling, as if it's still a surprise to him (and it is) that he owns and runs much more than the brothel. "I'm in charge of the Grounds too, these days," he continues. "Pretty good time to be an Ancient, you might say."

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

The chivalry and the casual claim of familial bonds reminded her painfully of Amun, but where she would have accepted him, Danta remained a stranger. Shying away just out of reach from the offered arm with an awkward shake of her head, Maea chewed on the pieces of information he fed her. Flashes of recollection helped complete the picture - she had been fleeing the fires, she remembered, and then a jumbled confusion as change came over her. The Voice gone, someone else appearing in her place, and a terrible urge to tear into anything that moved... She had been running from that too. Not fast enough though, evidently.

Running her tongue over the fangs that seemed a permanent fixture in her mouth now, they were easier to accept than the passage of so much time. Still, it might have been better if she lost centuries or eons rather than a few short years. This was only enough to leave her displaced in face of current events and not enough for a fresh start, where the past wouldn't matter anymore. People gone, changes wrought, and yet the Spire still loomed on the horizon like an accusing finger as they exited the woodland, mutely confirming that she kept running in place, going nowhere.

"Does the leader of the Grounds usually burn statues in the outback?" she wondered eventually, when the worst of the shock had settled. Keeping her eyes on the road as they walked, then on the bottom of the cart that offered them transport back to the settlement, she avoided meeting his gaze. Speaking softly so that the driver wouldn't overhear, she continued. "I'm grateful. But I'm probably not the kind of sister you're thinking of. There's nothing ancient about me at all."

Better make that clear from the start. His kindness and generosity felt misplaced and she an impostor - a far cry from what Danta must be expecting. Horns and a tail did not family make and she had bad experience with people who played house in this manner.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

"Only when there are surprises hiding in them," Danta says with a fanged smirk and an easy roll of his shoulders, even as the steady rain begins to darken his waistcoat further and leave his hair dripping, not that he's bothered. It's nowhere near the freezing cold of Deepfrost, and he's sure he can manage back to the bonfire in the Inner Quarter before feeling any ill effects from the rain.

As for her second remark - not to mention her declining to take his arm, the Maverick cocks his head to the side as if wondering if she's had a chance to look at herself lately. "I believe our lady Dygra would beg to differ on that front," he remarks, reaching out to touch a hand to her horns ever so slightly. "You're as much of an Ancient as I am. Granted, I really was asleep for centuries, so..." Well, he wins, unless she's also one of the old guard.

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Some surprise, Maea thought and looked askance at Danta. Not everyday the piñata produces sullen killjoys who didn't know how to roll along with whatever game he was playing. Objectively he seemed like a butterfly, the kind of person who attracted people and problems in equal measure. Perhaps she should be flattered at his obvious enjoyment of the situation, but it was hard to get anything past the weight of uncertainty in her gut.

When he reached for her horns the woman froze in place, tensing so she wouldn't flinch away. The touch was tolerated, barely, and she quickly looked away again, gnawing at her inner cheek to keep the objections from spilling out.
"Fair enough... that would make you a lot older than me." But wasn't that just another reason to make distinctions? She was a fraud, always keeping herself apart from the goings on of others. Oh the irony, spending so long praying for the approval of gods only to shy away from them when she finally got it.

The price had been so very high that most of the allure had gone out of it.

".. what're things like, now?" she asked eventually, in an attempt to steer the conversation away from herself. "Are Ancient... accepted? Or shunned, like the Ascended were?" The cart rattled along, bumping uncomfortably over potholes in the road.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

Whatever game Danta is playing appears to be lost on both of them, honestly, the Maverick stretching out his long legs and getting as comfortable as one might against the jostling movements of their travel. "It would make me a lot older than you," he agrees, withdrawing his hand from her horns and stretching it across the back of the cart. "The majority of the Ancients I have met recently joined when the Voice disappeared. I assume that's you, as well?"

Based on her mentioning of the Ascended, he figures so.

"Oh, we're perfectly accepted," he continues with a careless laugh, though in all fairness, Danta considers himself a welcome addition to any conversation, occasion or otherwise, so perhaps he isn't the best person to make such sweeping comments. "By and large, anyway. I assume if you kill puppies as a hobby, people may have something to say about that."

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

"Yes," Maea nodded, glad that she didn't have to spell it out för him. "I was born here, actually. As Abandoned. But some things happened, I was Ascended and then - " Trailing off, she regretted bringing up her story right away. Such a jumbled mess riddled with her own shameful choices, how could she explain in a way that made sense? "Never mind. It's not important." Counting on her fingers, then again. "I am... almost thirty, now." Give or take; though she had lost some years here and there, so actual years did not describe her lived experience accurately. She felt both older and younger than her years. Maybe that made them irrelevant.

Hearing that there wasn't a manhunt for Ancients was relief enough for Maea to straighten up. A faint smile ghosted past and some deep tension unlocked in the spine, making it easier to breathe. Curling up where Danta sprawled out, she nevertheless made herself more comfortable with arms draped loosely about the knees, made warm by the borrowed coat and thawing up gradually as the journey went on.

"Not needing to run and hide whenever I leave the region will be new," she admitted. "But I am glad. And grateful, too. Could you tell me more about Dygra? The Voice used to call the Ascended 'family' too... I never really felt it, though." With one exeption; but Amun had been filling the part of a brother long before Maea Ascended. It was not the same.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

"You've certainly been through it," Danta says with a low whistle, surprise colouring his expression for a brief time. "You can consider this your birthday, maybe, since this is the day you came back from being a statue," he suggests, before adding, "Happy Birthday," with a crooked smile. Swiping his wet hair back from his face, he squints through the rain toward the vague shape of the Inner Quarter in the distance.

By the time he glances back, Maea appears to have bloomed into an entirely different person (or so it seems), and Danta looks at her with fresh eyes. "It would be my pleasure," he croons, of telling her about their shared goddess and family. "Our dark lady makes us what we are, and so we are her children. But I doubt she would be offended if you didn't feel a familial tie."

Danta has been pledged to Dygra for long enough that it's almost second nature, though. "Dygra is... she just is. She's the shadow cast by Caido's light, she's the blood and bones to their beauty." He sighs, waxing lyrical and not caring about it one bit. "You can't have Caido without Dygra, just as you can't appreciate the order of things without knowing what it is to have that order disrupted."

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

She really had gone through it, hadn't she. It shouldn't come as a surprise given how much it had messed her up, but to have it summed up in such simple terms hammered it home in a whole new way. Stripping away the need to keep up a cheerful facade or apologizing for the choices that led her to where she was, for a moment Maea was able to merely sit with the immensity of her experiences. Gazing out over the rolling landscape while rocked by the wagon, in the company of someone who, at least for now, wasn't asking anything of her, she felt raw, and tender, and properly, solidly alive.

The birthday wish was offered in jest - at least she thought he was joking - but felt incredibly appropriate all the same and earned Danta a shy smile in return.
"Thank you daddy," she tried to joke back; if they were going to play house, they should all have a role, right?

Settling in to listen to the description of Dygra, she liked the symmetry of Danta's explanation. Creation and destruction, what was and was not, it seemed to go way beyond 'good' and 'bad' to something far more profound. Still, part of it was worrying too.

"If we are created by her... is it because she wants us to do something? Are we supposed to be, uh... disrupting things?" That seemed like a good way of becoming the bad guys all over again. Shadow, blood and bone made the day-to-day civilian a bit queasy. Expecting some unease from herself, Maea realized she felt remarkably blasé about the notion. At least for now.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

Dantalion

how the fuck am I supposed to know

Were Danta the type of man to grow flustered (spoiler alert: he is not), he may have had an entirely different reaction to his assigned role as daddy. Instead, it's with a salacious raise of his eyebrows and a smile that shows fangs that he accepts her thanks, however performative, and the cart rumbles on in companionable silence for a bit. Until, of course, it comes to Dygra, and if the Maverick had been given an opportunity to be a priest for his goddess in a past life, he may well have taken it.

(Theocrat is quite close, though, in truth).

"Dygra is not so shallow." He waves a hand, the movement easy and comfortable. "Are followers of Frey punished for not indulging in sexual pleasure at every opportunity? Are those who worship Mort and Ludo frowned upon for not taking life wherever possible?" He shrugs. "We're built for entropy, it's true, but I've never known our dark lady to be the overbearing sort."

In short, Danta preaches thinks, do what you will, but if it pleases the goddess, all the better.

if we're in love or if we're in pain?

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!