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!
03-01-2024, 11:12 PM (This post was last modified: 03-01-2024, 11:13 PM by Thalassa.)
I fear no monsters, for no monsters I see.
The leaves beneath her feet crunch nicely, but each step falls heavy, thoughts weighing her down. An ache sits deep in her heart to return to the ocean. Memories of the crashing waves, salty air, and blinding blue expanse call to her. However, she is uncertain whether the curse has finished running its course yet. Her stomach becomes queasy at the thought.
She ignores the uncomfortable emotions and clutches to the bitter anger festering in her heart. Originally drawn here for the woodland creatures that may satisfy her growing bloodlust, Thal had overheard of a shrine nearby. Now she is driven by more than thirst. It appeared soon after her land-locked travels had begun, slowly growing in her solitude. That is the funny thing about solitude, it either fosters deep enlightenment or uncontrollable rage for the gods.
As she weaves amongst the tall trees, they slowly grow redder with a strangely wrinkled texture. A deathly silence occupies the space of Ludo's Woods. Thal expects to see no living beings but narrows her eyes when a small black shape slinks out from behind a tree. Its dark gaze causes her to freeze in her tracks. The single white patch of its chest is shadowed by the canopy of trees, barely visible, but she doesn't need to see it to know the superstitious rumors. Good thing she's not superstitious.
Thal strikes in an instant. The cat sith doesn't have a chance to escape before the snap of its neck breaks the silence. A quick slice to the neck lets her drain its blood into her mouth. The warmth slides down her throat, dampening the roar of hunger within. She closes her eyes in a second of satisfaction before licking the last remnants from her mouth. Feeling that fate is finally on her side, Thal picks up her pace as she stalks towards the shrine.
Within minutes, the two candles recessed in trunks become apparent. Not much of a shrine, but it would do. She drops the carcass of the cat sith between the trees with a wet thump and squares up against the open air, bearing her bloody fangs. "I bet you got a real laugh out of the little gift that spirit gave me, but next time you will get more entertainment from helping me rather than hindering." The limp corpse sits as both an offered pact and a slapped insult as she lets the anger pour out of her.
Waking from the dream Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in
Dry twigs broke beneath slow footsteps. Despite the burdens dragging on her arms Maea made no hurry on her way through the woods. They were full of memories that seemed closer than usual, as if made tangible by the changing season, and she found herself half lost in thought. A dangerously distracted state of being, to be sure, when the world was awash with void taint and she couldn't easily reach her weapon.
Upon reaching the shrine, she found it already occupied. Casting a curious look at the woman, with the tail end of her monologue still hanging in the stillness, the salty-haired Ancient pursed her lips.
"I wouldn't take that tone with Ludo, if I were you. It has a peculiar sense of humor."
Approaching without much concern for the parishioner's anger, a lantern was set down near the roots of one tree, while an armful of ragdoll toys nestled more comfortably by the other. Finally a small pot filled with ash was placed by the altar itself. Fussing over the angle of the lantern and the positioning of the dolls until everything sat securely, a thin line nevertheless lingered on her brow by the time she stepped back.
"What are you so angry about?" Finally turning her full attention on the other, Maea was pleasantly surprised when she found her at eye level; not entirely commonplace, she appreciated the lack of strain in her neck that usually accompanied standing conversations.
The end is what you fear The scent of embers lingers in the air
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
In her fuming state, Thal almost misses the breaking of twigs approaching. She relaxes her stance but is unable to pull the tension of anger from her body. When she turns to face the voice, she notices first their similarities. Both being of shorter stature with protruding horns and a tail. Although the glaring opposites outweigh those commonalities, Thal finds herself surprisingly comfortable in the woman's presence.
She provides an admitting grunt at the Ancient's words, not yet willing to speak through her bubbling emotions. Her blue eyes follow each delicate movement of the woman as she rectifies the haphazard items littering the shrine. Despite Thal's current feelings, she understands that others have a right to their grief and religious beliefs. She would never stoop so low as to defile those expressions or interrupt their amendment.
When the woman steps back with a scowl still tarnishing her face, Thal steps forward. Although the offerings were placed pleasantly, something was missing. She plucks the candle from one of the trunk recesses and allows the flame to share its gift with the unlit lantern of the shrine. Once the candle is returned to its place, she takes in the charming view of the glowing lanterns, letting the warmth soothe her rage.
Starting with a shrug, she begins answering the question. "It was mainly hunger and bitterness speaking. I have been unable to alleviate the pain in my heart for some time." Her deep sigh punctuates the air. She lifts her eyes to the canopy, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything resembling the sea. To no avail. Thal feels a wetness behind her eyes but refuses to let it develop further. Instead, her anger is reignited. "It may not have been Ludo, but none of the gods have helped me thus far. They have chosen to sit back and let a spirit prevent me from doing what I love most. They don't care about me." Looking the other Ancient directly in the eyes, she recalls what was stolen from her in exchange for her transformation.
"I may not have the power to do anything against them, but at least I can show them that I am not someone to be ignored."
With her rant hanging in the air, Thal feels the emptiness of her life. She can't sail anymore, she has no family that she can recall, and she has no current purpose. Why should she thank the gods for anything?
Waking from the dream Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in
The steady gaze lingering upon the fellow Ancient carried little in the way of sentiment. Void of color save for the barest hint of lavender, the eyes were as strange and different as the rest of the petite woman and it was difficult to read her expression. Absorbing details, the way the person looked to the sky, how anger kept boiling up to the surface to color her tone and tension, Maea found herself feeling old and weary. Had she not held similar sentiments, not so very long ago?
She allowed silence to settle back over the woods. Watching the candles flicker and bob in faint currents of wind, she let pale hands marred eith burn scars find their way into the safety of deep pockets, hidden from view. "The spirits do not speak for the gods," she replied eventually, voice naturally quiet and soft, like mist in the night. "I take it you were cursed? Yes? Well. It happens to the best of us; that has nothing to do with divine care - or lack of care. If it makes you feel better, I prayed for over twenty years before even a spirit deigned to take notice." Her half smile was a wry thing, lopsided and unamused. "Until they do... perhaps you could allow yourself a detour? Take the time to learn something new that you would never have considered if not for the curse."
Not what anyone wanted to hear, Maea knew, but it was the best piece of advice she could think of in the moment. It was a bit hypocritical, since she chafed at restrictions herself, but perhaps this person could do more with the lot she was given than Maea ever had.
The end is what you fear The scent of embers lingers in the air
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Thal follows the Ancient's movements, noting the scarring of her pale hands before they disappear within her pockets. What could have caused such injuries? How does this woman not burn with rage considering what difficulties her history must hold? A million similar questions infiltrate the anger of her thoughts, dampening her emotions. She begins to feel like a toddler throwing a tantrum when things haven't gone her way. This realization brings a light warmth to her face that she hopes gets disguised by the breeze winding through the trees.
Clearing her throat, she turns her face away as the Ancient's words wash over her. Knowing that none of her responses would change how the Ancient perceives her own uninspiring interactions with the deities, Thal settles on nodding in acknowledgement of the struggles endured. Each following statement proves to continuously chastise the juvenility of her actions. Thal is reluctant to acknowledge her overactive emotions, but she will not repay this woman's kindness by burdening her further with petty whining. Instead, she accepts the advice without argument, continuing to nod.
"I appreciate your considerate words despite being strangers. I won't pray - considering both our lucks with that - but I do hope that your next prayer is heard." She takes a deep breath and reevaluates her situation. Perhaps she would make this an opportunity to explore the areas away from the sea. Once things return to normal, she will once again find herself on the deck of The Marauder with the salty breeze in her hair. Until that time, she will attempt to control her emotions.
Thal once again lays her eyes on the Ancient, viewing her in a different manner of respect based on her history and wisdom. She reaches out for a handshake. "They call me Thalassa Sanguis, but I go by Thal. If we ever meet again during my quest for meaning, I would like it to be as friends." A genuine smile lights her face despite the turbulent run of her thoughts. There is a lot she could learn from this woman and there is a vague longing to be mentored by her. "Any recommendations on where I should explore first?"
Waking from the dream Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in
Chastisement har not been the intention, but Maea was nevertheless pleased to see the thoughts flicker across the woman's face. She didn't tell Thalassa that she had been just as upset with the gods until just a few years ago; the realization that you were not the center of the world and that no one owed you anything was a painful one best experienced alone.
Her own expression warmed when a hand reached out for hers. There was a touch of hesitation before Maea accepted it. The skin on her hand was puckered and looked like melted wax, palm hard and calloused from handling weapons and tools.
"Maea Valair. Pleasure to meet you." Looking Thal up and down, she considered. "Other Ancients seem to be gathering in the Hollowed Grounds. There is a shrine to Dygra there. If you are looking to make friends, it's as good a place to start as any."
It amused her how events had turned on their head. Recalling a time when she had to explain to Outlanders why they had been tipped frön their Worlds and brought here, it hit her how much har changed in so little time. The Voice gone, Outlanders didn't appear, and the lost and confused ones these days were somehow older than everything Maea knew and took for granted.
The end is what you fear The scent of embers lingers in the air
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Thal is grateful to see that she doesn't decline to take her hand. A long and arduous past embodies the hand that meets hers, telling of a resilient person who has gained strength and experience through weathering the literal flames of life. Her respect only grows.
She releases Maea's hand and brushes her fingers through her hair. "I suppose that's a good idea." With the decision made to travel to the Hollowed Lands, just a few questions still hung in her mind. "Is there a reason the Ancients are gathering? Something I don't know about?" Having been at sea for so long, she wouldn't be surprised if there was news that she had missed. Other than the giant moon landing in the water (which had nearly taken her out), she felt disconnected from the current events. It would be ideal to know what kind of mess she could be walking into.
Waking from the dream Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in
Thin shoulders rose and fell in a light shrug. Maea picked a piece of lint off a sleeve and set it adrift on the breeze. "One of our kin is the ruler of the region. I think that's about the only reason. Work is being done to create a barrier against the Void critters, and the shrine to Dygra isn't too remote - I assume it's just convenient. No risk of being judged for sating our hunger... No one else seem very interested in the region anyway. Too much bad history." A faint grimace scrunched her nose, before a second shrug hefted the weight of old memories like an invisible backpack.
"Do you mind waiting for a bit? I would like to have a moment by the shrine, now that I'm here..." Alone, the soft smile seemed to imply. Not because Thalassa was a hindrande, but some things were rather private - and certain topics easier to address without an audience.
The end is what you fear The scent of embers lingers in the air
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Thal listens intensely to the information, making note of the way Maea mentions "bad history". The prospect of a group banding together with the purpose of building a safe area is inviting. Especially considering her conflictions regarding her new identity as an Ancient. However, she is reluctant to get her hopes up and never found it easy to get along with others. Only investigation would determine whether or not it would be a suitable place for her as a temporary or intermediate base of operations. Her head bobs in appreciation for the explanation.
When Maea requests space, Thal smiles politely. "But of course. You didn't come here just to meet me after all." As she steps to walk away, she pauses, glancing back at the limp body of the cat sith. It is regarded as a bad omen due to the lore that it leads souls astray. She hopes that it didn't have the opportunity to do so, but looking at the unintimidating form, Thal reconsiders her decision to leave it tainting the innocent prayers of the shrine visitors. With a respectful nod of her head, she removes the black figure with the intention of burying it nearby. Before she leaves the vicinity of the shrine, Thal glances at Maea one more time and speaks quietly. "Put in a good for me." It is as much of an apology as she is willing to give at the moment, her pride still wounded, but she feels that it was the right thing to say.
Waking from the dream Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in
If wounded pride was the only thing that pained her, Maea would consider herself fortunate. Humility was not that hard to come by, and the only one who suffered from it was really yourself. As for other sins... those were harder to remedy.
Waving acknowledgement of Thala's request, the pale-faced Ancient turned towards the shrine. For a while she merely watched the candles bobbing in the wind while her thoughts fumbled aimlessly for the words that might define all that moved within. One by one, memories rose to the surface like bubbles in a pond, bursting in a rush of color and sensation. The chill air in the Temple the first time she met Ludo stood out as vividly as the tingle of dark rags wrapping around her shoulders in the middle of a crowd; they had been following the battle against the Spire demon, and Maea had been so proud to be acknowledged by the Herald. Fiat Lux and escorting the Herald through the festivities had been part of a quest to mend her eyes; the easiest quest she had ever heard of, and strangely gentle - certainly when compared to the experience Remi had told her about.
"I think I did well, all in all," she murmured softly, eyes gazing beyond the altar where flecks of blood still lingered even though the body was gone. "I certainly did my best to flow with the river, like you said. My biggest flaw was that I mistook my progress for mastery, and I failed to see the people around me for what they were. Above all I made promises I had no way of keeping, and that's why I feel like shit now."
Picking up one of the dolls, Maea ran her thumbs over the patchwork of cloth, feeling the seams like scars beneath her fingerpads. On impulse she hugged it tightly, pressing her face into the doll; heedless of whether Thalassa was watching, uncaring whether anyone saw or cared about the salty damp that seeped into the rags.
"I'm so sorry I listened to the Voice! I'm sorry, for not listening to Ronin and going into the water that day. If I hadn't, I might never have died. I might still be attuned to you - I'm so so sorry I fumbled all of that for a man who didn't even want me. I'm – "
Her voice broke, and even though it was pointless and even though tears couldn't fix anything, Maea still hunched down and cried with the doll in her arms. It was a summer thunder rolling over the plains, a Leafchange rainstorm that exhausted itself as suddenly as it broke out; when it passed, it left her feeling wrung out and exhausted, eyes red timmes and her cheeks sticky with salt.
"I don't have any right to ask you for anything anymore. But if I could, it would be to meet you again, at least once. If that's the day I die... then I'll look forward to it."
Carefully rising to her feet again, Maea swiped the few bloodstains from the altar and carefully placed the doll over them. "Sorry about her... she is still very young. It's not an excuse... just, I hope, grounds for some oversight."
Backing away, it was difficult to peel herself away. Wiping her eyes with a sleeve, Maea hovered like an unwelcome guest reluctant to take her leave, then abruptly bowed to the altar and turned on her heel to go find Thalassa.
The end is what you fear The scent of embers lingers in the air
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Just as she had intended, Thal left to bury the cat sith. She didn't have a shovel so she used the opportunity to get familiar with the soil, scooping it with her hands until it was deep enough to cover the body. Each handful of dirt helped to seal away the guilt of her emotions. A deep, soothing breath accompanied the movement, calming the remaining rage to an imperceptible ember. By the time Maea came to find her, Thal was taking her feet, brushing the evidence from her trousers.
She glanced up and noticed the splash of reddish coloring on Maea's otherwise pale face. Choosing to ignore the implications and the questions they rose in her, Thal gave her a tilted smile. "I feel that my unknown purpose in coming here was to meet you. Thank you for your guidance." Looking toward the Hollowed Grounds, she began thinking about her new goal. "I suppose there is no reason to delay." Her gaze again met the other Ancient's, taking in her image as if it might help ensure that they meet again. The world was always smaller than she imagined, but there was no guarantee. "Where do you plan to go from here?" Having only known the woman from this interaction, Thal had no idea what her goals or aspirations were and where she might choose to travel.
Waking from the dream Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in
"Is that so?" Maea shot Thala a sideways glance. "If my ramblings can be of help then that's good, I suppose." She did not feel very wise, nor suited to offer any guidance. That's what she got for opening her mouth.
Feeling too raw still to delve into the matter, Maea let it drop and returned her hands to their pockets. Leaves crunched underfoot as the shifted her weight, throwing the horned head in a general southern direction. "Home, more or less. You? If you're going to the Grounds I don't mind company." A few days together on the road should help take her mind off all the things she couldn't change.
The end is what you fear The scent of embers lingers in the air
♦ Violence, magic, thievery is permitted with Maea at all times. DM me if you have any ideas ♦
Satisfied in her new connection with the Ancient, Thal smiled at the nonchalance, thinking that Maea needed to give herself more credit. She may have riotous emotions that were hard to control, but this woman's icy demeanor and mellow attitude had quickly calmed them. Perhaps more time with her would rub some of that onto Thal herself.
Not wanting to come off too eager despite the excitement at Maea's words, Thal shrugged her shoulders. "As long as you don't mind. It may be easier to pass the time." She didn't wait for Maea to change her mind. Instead, she turned to the south, finding that the breeze felt more refreshing at the prospect of an accompanied trip ahead of her.
