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!
Aim your arrow at the sky SHOOT LIGHTNING THROUGH THE VITAL VEINS
Jude does not often return to Stormbreak, but with Safrin's quest sitting snug around his shoulders and his father's impromptu and rather disastrous return ensuring Jude doesn't want to linger in Torchline, it unfortunately becomes a rather appealing stomping ground for his goals.
Armed with a notebook and pen in case he truly needs to utilize his voice, Jude sets out to learn more than just how it feels to go through a single day without being able to speak. The Silk Houses are the underbelly of Stormbreak, and he hopes it will present a challenge for him that he can carry back to Safrin with greater pride than something more simplistic.
He isn't expecting someone potentially getting hurt because of his own selfishness and stubbornness.
It's nothing life-threatening, but it's clear the young man Jude had stumbled across had been shoved down or otherwise assaulted given the scrapes and lacerations on his face and arms, and what appears to be a sprained ankle keeping him from standing properly. Jude is already knelt beside him, a few words of comfort scrawled out in his journal as he tries to peek his head out the entrance of the alley to flail a blank piece of paper he'd ripped out to flag down anyone nearby. Luckily the young man must just assume he's mute, but the guilt eats Jude up inside as he tries to catch eyes with anyone walking down the street to come help him.
THEY THINK THAT YOU EMIT THE LIGHT But you only take it in
Zavien often strolls through the lower districts of Stormbreak at night, letting old memories wash over him and remind him of who he was raised to be. It is especially effective in lifting his dark moods when life seems to lay heavy on his shoulders, stealing sleep from his eyes. Occasionally, he takes the time to share warm smiles with those struggling, attempting to lift their spirits in the little ways he can. And on the rare occurrence, his strength comes in handy to defend unfortunate innocents of the streets.
As the night starts to recede into the early morning, Zavien's heart brightens, negative thoughts falling from his mind. Although the fog still clings to the buildings of Silk Houses, the dying clamor of revelers rings in the new day. Only the final dregs of people remain as the rest slink into their homes to share beds or seize what little sleep they can before the working begins.
His steps lead him past a few drunk stragglers, chuckling amongst themselves. One pats the other on the back and makes a comment about "enough to keep him down for a while". They laugh again. Zavien notes the bloody knuckles on the pair, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Not wanting to make assumptions or cause a scene, he lets them pass without a comment. He instead looks in the direction they had come from.
A short distance later, Zavien sees a flash of white flapping out of a darkened alleyway. He squints his eyes to be sure of the summons before picking up his pace. His jog brings him quickly upon the young man hovering over the semi-conscious form of another. Having already seen the suspected culprits and observing the distressed look in the Samaritan's eyes, Zavien focuses his attention on the patient.
He makes eye contact with the hooded gaze of the man. Placing a gentle hand on his cheek, he speaks in a low reassuring voice. "Hey. Stay with me. We're gonna get you out of here." His instincts kick in and he catalogues the immediate injuries. Other than a mangled face and a few scattered scrapes, he doesn't see any major hemorrhaging. The only other deformity is a twisted right ankle that he obviously won't be walking on any time soon. Zavien assumes that his primary problem is a concussion, explaining the far-off-look.
Now addressing the Samaritan, he indicates to the man's left arm. "You grab that side. We need to get him to a healer before the filth of this street infects his wounds. Hopefully some ointment, a splint, and a good night's rest will be enough to heal him." Grabbing the right arm, he shoots the young man a bright smile. "I'm Zavien, by the way. You did a good job waving me down. Who knows what would have happened to him otherwise."
Aim your arrow at the sky SHOOT LIGHTNING THROUGH THE VITAL VEINS
Relief nearly bowls him over when his summons is answered in the form of an older man, someone presumably more mature than Jude and hopefully more equipped to handle the situation currently breeding panic in the young man’s chest. His face is unfamiliar, but he doesn’t get much of a chance to examine the newcomer given how quickly the stranger takes over, descending toward the injured man in their midst like a timely angel. Jude watches, breath stolen as surely as his words, and hovers near the two of them with his hands wringing the journal in his hands until the binding creaks and whines.
Instructions are a relief amidst the guilt and uncertainty. Jude nearly teleports to the injured man’s side as directed, honey eyes big and unblinking as he follows the handsome stranger’s lead. Jolting at the sudden introductions, Jude fumbles his journal open to the first few pages where he had written some standard phrases ahead of time. He points out the top line; “My name is Jude. I can’t speak right now.”
Wrangling the journal into one hand, Jude slips his shoulder under the injured man’s armpit, relieved that there’s more collective muscle on the scene. While he would have certainly tried if nobody had come to their aid, it’s unlikely Jude would have been able to carry him alone given his rather lanky stature. Watching the older man intently, Jude only begins to heft and heave the injured man up off the cobblestone when Zavien does, intent on timing their efforts for best success.
THEY THINK THAT YOU EMIT THE LIGHT But you only take it in
His eyes scan the notebook to comprehend the scribbled words. The specific phrasing of "right now" stands out, but Zavien decides that he can ask the young man for clarification later. For the moment, he is obviously someone willing to help so there is no reason to suspect nefarious intentions. "Nice to meet you, Jude. That definitely explains the way you hailed assistance." He chuckles before grunting lightly with their combined efforts of lifting the man up. There is some gentle shuffling to get the man's feet under him along with the shifting of their weights. The man groans quietly but stays vertical between the two of them.
Zavien glances towards the end of the alley, calculating the distance to the nearest healer. "Lucky for us, the healer isn't too far from here. About three blocks? Between the two of us, it shouldn't take more than ten minutes." He glances at the shorter man, hoping that having the good leg on his side will help relieve some of the weight but still unsure of Jude's strength. "Do you think you can make it that far?" Although he waits for Jude's response, he starts the slow process of walking the man. Low words of encouragement leave his mouth without a second thought. "You got this. Just one step in front of the other. We'll be there before you know it." He finds himself silently praying that the man doesn't lose consciousness, further complicating things.
Aim your arrow at the sky SHOOT LIGHTNING THROUGH THE VITAL VEINS
Relief dawns like sunrise on Jude's face as Zavien amiably accepts his written explanation and takes it in stride with a genial attitude that puts his anxious heart at ease. The half-conscious man between them steals his attention in the next breath, dark brows furrowing in concern as Jude adjusts his grip on the man's arm over his shoulder. It's not the worst he's seen - no, that had undeniably been the shredded bodies his brother had left behind in the Oerwoud - but the gravity of holding someone's fate in his hands is daunting.
Zavien interrupts that spiraling thought as if clairvoyant, and the stricture of Jude's pinched expression eases. Only three blocks? He can do that. They can do it. He uses his free hand to give Zavien a thumbs-up and a brave smile, expressive eyes clearly showing he's still a bit daunted but willing to soldier forth. And though Zavien's words may be for the stranger between them, Jude takes heart in the encouragement - hello again daddy issues - and discourages himself from counting their wobbling, meandering steps as they emerge from the mouth of the alleyway. Jude waits for Zavien to move in the right direction, unfamiliar with this area of town, and keeps step with him as well as he can. His heart twists, wanting to fill the empty air with words of any kind, but as they shuffle down the block his own selfishness continues to win out.
THEY THINK THAT YOU EMIT THE LIGHT But you only take it in
03-20-2024, 09:36 PM (This post was last modified: 03-20-2024, 09:38 PM by Zavien.)
Just smile and be happy.
The confident hand gesture and smile eases some of Zavien's anxiety, but only distance would prove their veracity. Taking another step, they leave the dark alleyway behind them in order to enter the hazy lights of the street. No other unsavory people appear to be prowling the streets. No other people appear at all. With the early morning hour, only those of desperate needs or ulterior motives found themselves alone on the empty walkways. It seems that this morning is like all the others in most senses but one. He isn't alone. It makes him wonder even more about how a mute young man came to be wandering in the underbelly of Stormbreak. A mental note is made to investigate further at a later time.
For now, Zavien gestures his head to the left and starts to guide the men. Although his grip on the injured person is tight, he attempts to make it more of a friendly and reassuring hold, using his palm on the man's torso to continue rubbing and stimulating him. "Stay with me. We'll keep you upright. You just focus on keeping your eyes open and placing one foot in front of the other." About a block ahead of them is a rundown building huddled between two large taverns. The lights in the taverns have dimmed and the music no longer filters out, but they still shine brighter than the small structure between them. Most would overlook the dusty windowsill and the "door" consisting of half the original wood planks. Vacancy is obvious despite the heavy physical embodiment of emptiness.
Zavien points his finger towards the crumbling place while he keeps their forward momentum. "Years ago, that was a jewelry shop. Unlike smart owners, the old man had chosen to bring his beautiful creations to the Silk Houses. He always said, 'Those who are in the darkest of places just need something more garish to reflect the light within.'" A laugh accompanies his words when he continues talking. "I don't know about anything so philosophical, but my mom always thought his creations were pretty. It helped that Virgil sat outside his door. He gave the wettest kisses and never stopped smiling." He pauses intentionally. "His floppy ears and tail were my favorite part though." Zavien looks at the two men, smiling at his own joke.
By this point, the building was fading behind them. Only a block and a half left. "Sadly, the kind owner eventually discovered why so few jewelers set up shops out here. Neither him nor Virgil made it out." He recalled how the neighbors couldn't have cared less. They didn't even know the man's name. My mom tried to protect me like she always did, smiling through the sorrow, but I could tell that she took it hard. A long sigh escapes but he smiles and looks back at the injured man. His little strength is visibly fading and he is beginning to faulter. "Keep your head high. Look at the path ahead. It's much brighter than behind us."
Sure enough, the sun is rising slowly in the distance. He wouldn't consider it a sunrise quite yet, but the sky is shifting to a lighter shade, orange tinging it. It's just bright enough to give a glow to the hanging pots of the healer's hut ahead.
Aim your arrow at the sky SHOOT LIGHTNING THROUGH THE VITAL VEINS
Jude's eyes are drawn inexorably to the steady pattern of Zavien's hand rubbing on the man's sternum. His father's voice whispers old lessons of shock and stimulation, and Jude's hand where it's braced across the man's back taps idly across his spine in unintentional harmony with the speed of Zavien's hand.
The man's voice is equally enrapturing. Jude can scarcely watch his own feet for how it pulls him in, painting a story so simple and vivid, humanizing sections and corners of this neighborhood that Jude had never questioned or lingered on. The brightness of the lanterns and Zavien's laughter alike makes his chest squirm. Knowing they are so close to their goal makes him hopeful - a feeling that shudders and dies with the sorrowful ending to a story he'd never taken part in, but which feels freshly tragic all the same. Every city has its underbelly. Torchline is notorious for its piracy and smuggling, and Jude was born on those very sands, could tell ten stories just like this one if only he had operation of his tongue. Still, it hurts to hear. It feels cruel in that meaningless, vain way that makes you want to rage at the world for being so indiscriminate with its cruelty.
The words he ends with aren't meant for Jude. They're not, but gods if they don't feel like it. Jude's feet stumble gracelessly, and he cannot even blame it on the uneven paving or jutting cobblestone. Not when his chest is so tight that his breath shudders and his eyes burn. It shouldn't be this easy to tear him apart, like paper left out in the rain. Words meant for an injured man on the heels of a sad story shouldn't feel so meant for him, as if he's a seer who came across Jude and the victim by something more than chance.
If his breath is still shaky when they make it to the doorstep, he can excuse it under the guise of exertion. They are loud and sloppy with their approach given how many pairs of legs are at play, and a shrewd-eyed doctor emerges before they are properly through the entrance. Her eyes go straight to the man between them, and she turns over her shoulder to call for what Jude presumes are assistants. Another woman and a man come out from another room, and Jude hands over his charge when gestured to drop the man's arm. "What happened? Did either of you witness the attack?" Jude waves a hand to catch her attention, and then quickly sets about scribbling bullet points in his journal to show to her; he'd come just after the attack, but he'd seen a few wounds, and no weapons greater than knives on the attackers. The man with him had helped, but no they were not friends or family, and could not help with tracking them down. "Very well. There is nothing more you can do. Leave your names if you'd like, I will give them to him when he wakes."
Satisfied, she sends them on their way brusquely. There was not even a proper waiting room, and Jude flounders, wishing he could stay and see how the man fared but finding himself back outside within moments with the true hero at his side. Blinking in the early sunrise, Jude fumbles with his journal and scribbles in it before presenting it to Zavien. Thank you. I'm from Torchline - I couldn't have helped much without you. He bites his lip, hesitating, before penning in an additional line and turning it back to Zavien. He can't repay you, but is there anything I can do in his place? Extending favors is a dangerous path, and there is nothing forcing his hand, but his words and general demeanor stick with Jude like a rock in his chest. He has to try.
THEY THINK THAT YOU EMIT THE LIGHT But you only take it in
The stilting jumble of steps being taken by the three men makes it a miracle that they reach the door of the healer and her assistants. Zavien glances at the young man out of the corner of his eye in concern as they hand over the injured person. He swears a faint groan of "Thank you" escapes the man's lips, but the short commands of the disgruntled doctor smother the other noises. Her scrutinizing gaze makes him want to shrink despite his obvious advantage in height. Luckily, she focuses her attention on Jude as he scrambles to answer her questions while Zavien gets a chance to take a closer look at him in the light of the healer's lamps. A distressed look mars the young lines of his face. The struggle to gather his breath and the pain in his eyes resonates with something in Zavien. This experience should not have been enough to cause such a reaction.
At the dismissal of the healer, Zavien makes a mental note to return and check on the man's progress in a few days. He is guaranteed to find himself in the area again. Jude, on the other hand, is apparently from Torchline. Reading over his words carefully, Zavien narrows his eyes. He shakes his head and raises his hands emphatically. "Oh no, no, no. You misunderstand. I have no desire to be 'repaid' or receive any form of compensation. Plus, it should be me thanking you." Gesturing to the door that now houses a bustle of healing activities, Zavien smiles reassuringly. "That man may not be here if it weren't for you. Your piece of paper helped to summon me. You should be proud. Most people would have just walked by. Despite your..." Trying to find the word for Jude's peculiar lack of speech, he starts walking down the street towards the edge of the Silk Houses. "'condition', you cared enough to stay and help in any way you could." He lifts his hand to the sky to absorb the future sunrays, pausing by the healer's garden as the brisk cold of the morning begins to dampen to a warm dew. "My mom always said that smiles and kindness are contagious. Some people refer to it as 'good karma' or even 'naivety,' but that implies that you are ignorant of the actions others take. I prefer to think of it as a disease. If you show grace and compassion to others, their own burdens are lightened enough to encourage them to choose kindness. And then the people they help are also touched by happiness. And so on and so forth until hopefully everyone is impacted. They may not feel a dramatic change, but it shows them that good people still exist and they can be one of those good people." A blush paints his cheeks and he runs his hand through his hair, laughing. "It sounds cheesy. All I'm trying to say is that you did a good thing." His green eyes look to Jude in a more serious manner. "I don't know what sort of person he is. There may be a reason those men beat him. I only hope that your act of selflessness gives him a reason to pass along the joy he feels when he recovers."
Having gotten the emotions out of his system, he smiles at Jude brightly before asking, "Now, why can't you speak?" He is never one to avoid the difficult topics and the curiosity is killing him. There are no obvious physical explanations. What could be causing his silence?
Aim your arrow at the sky SHOOT LIGHTNING THROUGH THE VITAL VEINS
They stand huddled together in the early sunrise, the notebook held between them, and Jude marvels at the strange sense of companionship that sits in his chest alongside the guilt. Nothing has been utterly lost - lives, foremost - so maybe he can still count this as a success?
Zavien speaks more than enough in Jude's place, and he hangs on every word with wide, unblinking eyes. This entire evening feels revelatory, and in the half-light everything feels magic. Magic in the way serendipity is, or human spirit, and not the sort found in the veins of Abandoned. Or maybe he's just painfully, heartbreakingly lonely, and he hasn't heard a kind word as to his demeanor or mind in so long. He feels voracious. Starved for every beautiful word off Zavien's tongue which absolves him when he does not deserve it.
The first words he's sure to write aren't a direct answer to the question posed, but to the sheepishness that had overtaken Zavien just before it. It's not cheesy, I promise. My dad used to tell me the same. He realizes belatedly that it sounds like Harper is dead when it's written that way, but his broken heart whispers isn't he, though? To us?
The rest is much easier to write, though he prays silently for Zavien's patience as he tries not to scrawl too quickly, to retain some form of the perfect handwriting his Maman had trained into him. I'm on a quest that Safrin gave me. I'm not supposed to speak all day, to know the power of my voice. So I came somewhere unfamiliar to see if I could learn something. I think I did, to say the least. His smile as he shows the page to Zavien is sheepish, clearly meaning the man in the clinic behind them as well as the one reading the words he'd just written.
THEY THINK THAT YOU EMIT THE LIGHT But you only take it in
A peaceful warmth settles in his chest at Jude's assurance. Although the man has heard similar words before, the thought that his mother's ministrations are still working to bring others comfort fills him with pride and joy. Her purpose lives on through him so Zavien keeps a smile on his face and continues to show Jude grace and compassion.
However, that is slightly more difficult when he reveals his choice to remain silent. It seems selfish to withhold possibly life-saving words. Adding in the fact that it's for a quest is borderline offensive. Zavien is tempted to say the exact words filtering through his mind, but he pauses momentarily to more closely consider the words written. Jude obviously didn't ask to encounter such a moral quandary. He simply had to make a choice, keeping in mind that Safrin is watching to assess his actions. This may have been the perfect situation in which to display the power of his voice. The fact that the man should recover well helps his case immensely.
Letting the frustration and judgement roll from his shoulders, Zavien gives Jude a kind look before speaking in a gentle chastising tone, "Although I'm glad to hear that you've learned a valuable lesson, I hope you recognize the gravity of what your voice symbolizes. It is not just a means for communication. It represents your ability to impact people's lives. Your words can save someone's life or bring their world tumbling down around them. They can bring someone hope or despair. They can change the world if you have the right mindset." He smiles kindly and places an encouraging hand on Jude's shoulder. "You are brave enough to stand up for what is right - that much is evident. Just keep that strong moral compass and follow your heart. Don't take anything for granted."
Realizing the gravity of his words, Zavien pats him companionably - if not a tad roughly - on the shoulder and laughs loudly. "And don't take life too seriously! Make jokes and laugh! What fun is there in life if you don't bask in all the joys it has to offer?!" His face is bright and carefree. He is more than happy to pass on advice to a courageous new friend. Everyone is still alive and a new day is beginning. Life is good.
