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!
"Why must there always be stumbling?" Are whispered to himself as he sat up with caution, making sure he'd not broken anything beyond another pack frame. His head was thankfully only throbbing like before, beyond that the damage was mostly superficial as far as he could tell, just a bruised rib or two, the beam that had given out had not been as lucky though. Falling around him in rotten splinters and solid little pieces that had held on for just long enough to allow Are to get beyond the point of no return.
He looked back up the mill tower where the glinting still could be seen. A sliver of what exactly, he wasn't sure, but he was damned sure it was more interesting than the pack of bits and bobs he'd scavenged thus far.
With another groan he got up and brushed off the worst of the dust and wood. Standing there atop a pile of old brick work looking up at the tantalizing glitter he shook his head again, spat out his disappointment and a small mouthful of blood he crawled defeated out of the collapsed doorway.
The mill stood tall and alluring as he gave it one last look before sitting down by a trickle to wash his tools and start on patching his pack as best as he could. Not enough for any more tumbles in the pale afternoon light, but just enough to hold 'til he could get home.
And homeward bound he was, that was, until he thought he'd spotted movement. Something beyond jackdaws and squirrels digging through the dilapidated surroundings for a scrap of food or nesting material. No, he could've sworn he saw something bigger moving among the rubble.
Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
The movement he saw was none other than the former captain Roana, who had disappeared into a light in the basement of the Spire. But of course, she was yet very much alive, and now contemplating next steps. The barrier was down, the people were free (somewhat), and the Voice roamed openly again. Her lips pulled in a sideways purse at that thought. The Voice... the reason they all had appeared in this world in the first place.
An idea had begun to formulate in the back of her mind so she had gone walking aimlessly, her boys well distracted with their Auntie who was making cookies. The quiet and relative boringness of her walk would help her think, ruminating mindlessly on the seed of a revolution. But movement caught her eye and she glanced up, brow furrowing. "Are?"
There was words the cobbler knew but never could truly grasp, in that case it was the other way around. A feeling he lacked any explanation for beyond describing it as a sort of worried happiness. Something blended from the joy of seeing a friend again and the dread of knowing there was far more that needed to be discussed than the weather.
So he stood up, hand waving in greeting and wearing that smile that didn't quite reach the eyes. "Roana!" he shouted in return with less enthusiasm than was appropriate. He was after all, finally seeing a friend he'd for a moment considered lost to the spire. Yet he never dwelled on it more than absolutely necessary, instead choosing to drown it and every other sorrow in work and worries.
Worries such as where he stood in the conflict he barely understood. The one that he'd thrown himself into 'feet first and eyes closed' as Jigano so gracefully had put it. Gods, just the thought of it all trying to see what was right made his head spin. His heart though, it knew very well what it wanted, but the heart of the cobbler yearned for things the body did not. Honor and glory wouldn't do much good if it left him leaving his new home the way he got there.
He'd frozen, again. Just standing there like a fool trying to put together something fitting to say, thinking before speaking, just like Jigano told him to. "Heil! At least, you look like it... For someone who's dead and all... Supposedly..." he stammered, like the eloquent wordsmith he was.
Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
Roana couldn't help the small grin on her face as Are greeted her and approached. "First you think you're dead, then you think I'm dead? I'm starting to think you have an odd obsession, friend." she said with a light laugh. Are was an odd fellow, but a good meaning odd fellow she thought. It just made him an interesting person to be around. "What brings you out here?"
Her head tilted a little as she looked him over. "You okay?" she asked. He seemed a little...tense. Not his usual jovial, carefree self. Plus he and his pack looked like they had both taken a pretty good tumble, which seemed likely given where they were. The Ruins could be a treacherous place to walk around.
Her joke enticed a small snort, enough to loosen up the worst tensions and pierce the veil of worries he'd already covered his mind in. Hard as it might've been to know what to say, a touch of humor and an honest question helped him find words.
"Well..." it helped him find a word at least, something to tie the snarl of thoughts to and begin weaving. "To be frank, no. There's a lot of things gone awry, and I find myself a fool left dumb and blind in the middle of something I went into 'feet first and eyes closed' it seems." he did his best to not let his exasperation with the whole little mess shine through, although his imitation of Jigano might not have been the most kind one.
Distressed, Are scratched his eyebrows and through his arms up at it all. Leaving a nice streak in the settled dust on his face and a small cloud as his arms hit his tunic. Pacing he began trying to make sense of where he stood in it all.
"I mean, I agree with so much that's said, talk of being careful and thinking it all through. Yet I get anxious just waiting around..." he babbled almost as if discussing it with himself to reach some sort of conclusion, a coherent question he could tie it all to. "Roana, I trust you, but why did Jigano, Rory and all the others oppose themselves to breaking the wall?"
Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
Her head tilted to the side. Feet first and eyes closed, huh? She listened quietly as he spoke, expressing his concerns and landing on a question that she felt she at least had a bit of an answer for. But it was a tiring question and she sighed, rubbing her eyes roughly as if to get sleep out from them. "It's both complicated and straightforward the answer you are asking for." she said, letting her arms fall to the side. She wasn't really even sure where to start with it all. That he said he trusted her though gave her hope that he wouldn't immediately turn against her when he realized what she knowingly tried to release into the greater world.
"The old gods, Safrin, Ludo, Frey and their lot got into a war with a new god called the Voice." she started, trying to recall all the details Maea had given her. "The Voice was originally just a human woman, gifted with magic. I am not certain exactly how the war started or what she did to provoke the old gods but they put the barrier up to trap her here, with the Ascended, that are her creation." Roana explained slowly. "So since most of the folk that live here are loyal to the old gods, trying to bring down what the gods put up is a bit...sacreligious I suppose." she finished with a sigh, pausing to let him thing...and to see if he would ask why she pursued this path anyways.
Gods, no, he couldn't even call for them, not even in vain. His understanding grew exponentially, it felt like his mind could barely contain the sheer weight of it all, and finally he could understand the silver haired mans curses. What had happened was so much more than a quarrel between ways of old and new, it was what the cobbler feared beyond all else. The preface to an all encompassing war, Ragnarök would be upon his new world as it would every other world.
Are shook his head, not in defiance of it all, but in pure disbelief. He would never be strong enough, wise enough or honorable enough to be ready. Ever. What was left of his world and what little he had made of the new would all be swept away, and he would again be thrown into the great void, this time to never surface again.
He swallowed hard and took a deep breath to compose himself, to settle the raging seas in his mind and heart. He dug for a speck of sense in it all, if this was a preamble to the twilight of gods, why was it pushed towards the edge by good folk? Why those that opposed it did so was apparent, but why good people strove for it he couldn't make heads or tails of.
"Why?" he asked without frills or further explanations, at first. "No, wait." the cobbler held a hand up, motioning for a moments respite. Just a second to make order in among the thoughts and get the words in line. The image of a woman, dressed in crackling bolts of lightning, offering honeyed words and blackened promises. A craftsman with good people as her material.
"I trust it to be worth it. The price of freedom is paid in blood and safety it seems." he said and looked Roana straight in the eyes, and as the realization set in he offered a wry smile. "A price a hero is willing to pay I take it." smiled the fool as it all became clear in his head.
Are caught himself before he slipped further into the morass of pride, remembering the call of greater men and how they beckoned. "So it is us and the Ascended against all those people?" he asked, his face losing some of its cocksure sheen.
Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
His reaction was painful to watch. Someone who trusted her, someone who she had helped get on their feet in this new world, someone who was good at heart (if a bit wacky) being clearly appalled by her actions. It hurt her somewhere deep in her soul. Are was exactly the sort of person she was supposed to protect, and here she was, telling him she had unleashed a potential war upon the land. She frowned, but refused to look down, burning this reaction into her mind. This was why she fought. This was why she would continue to fight. This was why they had to bring it all to an end.
He asked why - a question she longed to hear and answer - but quickly retracted it. "A price a hero is willing to pay I take it." A...hero? "I am no hero." Roana said immediately. "I am just trying to do what is right, to set things back in order and restore balance to this place so there can be actual peace. I've the strength and training, and it is my duty to use it for the greater good." she said quietly, gripping the sword on her hip as if it would give her the strength to follow through on her words.
Us against them? Roana shook her head quickly. "This isn't a situation of us versus them. While they've been...less than kind and walked down a path that under normal circumstances would lead to a war or at least blood feud, they are only doing what they believe needs doing to serve their gods. I won't fault anyone that." She would fault them for starting riots and rampant hatred, but not for defending their religious beliefs. "This is a case of a war drawn out, rather than a war brought to an end. By trapping the Voice and not killing her, they have simply delayed the inevitable. It is a common and regularly unsuccessful tactic. The hope is that their followers will die out, they will lose their power without strength in numbers, and then no longer be a problem, or at worst a negligible one." she explained. "But that failed. There were still Ascended being created. She still had the ability to sway the minds of the people to her cause. The barrier was doing nothing other than subjecting people to elongated suffering, trapped in a cage for the punishment of a war they did not bring unto themselves." her voice rose with emotion. Frustration. Anger. Passion. As blue as the ocean her eyes were, they lit up with flames of fury.
"So no. It is not us against them. It is us, thrown into a war of the gods. The Voice called us here to release her and we did. But desperate acts for survival can also be ones undoing." She had called people who were strong enough to release her - that meant they just might be strong enough to bring her down too. And if that was what it took to finally bring peace to this place, sobeit.
Words burned his throat and tongue, like holding down hard liquor as the Dane told a long and winding story. A test of one's patience and the reward; answers to so many questions he'd barely had the time to put into words. To listen, hear, and understand. Not just waiting for one's turn to speak. Doing the memory of his father proud.
"A hero's path is a winding one, that few finds the end of. It runs through blood, fire, and war, and leads to a hero's tomb. By the falling oak leaves victory crowned, written in blood; the deeds in life shall call the final dooming of the soul." he almost whispered the poem, allowing it to flow unhindered from memory to tongue. It didn't sound right, not in the rounder language nor spoken with his voice. No, the inflection made it sound far more ominous and grand that he remembered it.
"You are not the one that gets to decide that Roana." he said, finally breaking his silence after taking in all she gave. His mind still hung up on the first four words she's let slip.
"You speak of doing what's right, no matter the cost, of seeing a war through even though it's not your own." his voice rose in power and conviction, mimicking Roana's own feelings. "You speak of waging war on a god, I am talking to either a hero or a fool, and one of those I know far too well from personal experience. You're no such thing." his words echoed with an air of finality, his stubborn mind was made up and had already moved on.
"I am just a cobbler, but it sounds to me like there's a plan brewing. So do tell, what is it you think might lead to the people-crafter's demise?"
Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
Roana glanced at him, listening quietly as he spoke. The poem was a beautiful one, one that resonated with her. Her father had been a hero, a real one, documented in the country's Chronicle of Heroes. She would have thought it a fitting poem for her father's life...but hers? She wasn't sure yet. It was to early to tell.
You are not the one that gets to decide that, Roana."
Roana chuckled mirthlessly, shaking her head a bit. Her eyes cast down to the ground. Based on recent events, she doubted she would be remembered as a hero. An anarchist. A villian. A boogeyman. An example to children of how not to be. But a hero? Her? She didn't feel like a hero. She was just doing what she thought needed doing. "A hero. A fool. Some might say there is actually not much difference between the two." she said quietly. But as she looked back up at him she smiled a bit. "Regardless of whether it is how I will be remembered or what I am, I am honored to be considered so by some." she said.
"I'm honestly not certain." she said, when he asked what she thought would bring an end to the Voice. "But we will need people on our side. We will need the gods on our side...and I've unfortunately made a poor showing to one." she said with a quiet sigh.
"Still a chance for me then." he quipped almost on pure reflex. Whispering his joke and smiling as he caught up with what he had said, once again tongue so much quicker than the mind. The viper and the snail, at it again. Another chuckle escaped before he ushered the amusing thoughts to the back of his mind again. Such serious matters deserved respect.
Her plan, if you could call it that, seemed solid enough. A direction in which to travel and a star to point the keel at. A steersman he'd come to trust at the helm made the voyage into the great unknown seem a little less daunting.
"Arms, people, gods, and we'll be set." he said casually, as if reciting a recipe for pork and beans. "Just a few more things and Ragnarök will end. By sword and spear of mortals." it all sounded like one of Roar's twisted stories, mixing what was real, foretold, with some sick sense of humor and a good pinch of lies.
"I am nothing in the grand scheme of things, but I'll do what I can for the cause. Be it by awl or axe." he interjected in between his own musings, smile and chuckle abruptly falling off and his face turning dead serious. As the situation deserved.
"The budding government seems like the next battle to be fought, hopefully by tongue and heart instead of axe and shield. You think they'll try something brash?" he said, as if simply referring to the enemy as 'they' would save him from slipping up again.
Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
"A man who is willing to stand beside probably the most hated person in the Hollowed Grounds is hardly one I would consider nothing." Roana said with a small smile. Are was just a cobbler, one with a rather strange outlook and whose bark seemed worse than his bite, but he did have some steel buried in his spine. It wasn't easy going against the grain, and she respected him all the more for it. It's what she had made a career on, and it seemed it would remain a melodic chord throughout her life. "But, if you want to be helpful, you're going to need to toughen up a bit, Are. Learn to fight, grow in strength physically and mentally. I wouldn't see you dragged into it but if that is what you wish to do, then those are things you will need to pursue to make it far." she said, her tone that of an advisor. He would have to choose for himself if he was willing to put in the time and the effort to grow stronger. She could only advise he do so.
"I am less concerned with them doing something brash, and moreso that they will even stand." she said with a sigh. The government was shakey at best, resting on shoulders that were not confident of their abilities, doubted by their own people, and surrounded by those who were hated or equally unconfident or so over confident they threatened to throw its delicate balance out of whack. "But they need to stand. The Fae in the Greatwood are dangerous and not at all friendly to any of us. We will need a united front if we are to be successful in the long run and safe in the near term."
The compliment should've made him smile, but it made the fact hit home. That he had, as a matter of fact, taken sides in a battle he barely even knew existed. Brash, perhaps, but Are was stubborn enough to see it through to whatever end came of it. He had made his move, and making the best of things was his M.O.
"Yes, I am just a cobbler after all." a humor-less laugh emphasized exactly how he felt about the whole thing. Overwhelmed, a tiny man caught up in something much bigger than himself. Something that would push him to his breaking point, and beyond if he didn't make damn sure to be as prepared as he ever would be.
Nervously he fingered the head of the axe at his side, the only weapon he'd ever actually used besides a few swings at mind ghosts and fleeting shadows. "A fighter, eh?" he looked up from his belt and nodded as he tried the word on for size. "Never was much of one, but I'll need to be." he stated dryly, getting up and dusting himself off once again.
Who is that girl I see
Staring straight back at me?
”Lesson one, stop diminishing yourself.” she said, crossing her arms, a small smirk on her lips. ”We are all just a something. I am just a daughter of a heroic warrior and his trophy wife. Sure, a hero father but I am a daughter and where I am from that means I was supposed to sit still and look pretty. And here I am because I would not limit myself by any definition.” she said.
Roana shook her head. ”You aren’t trained, that doesn’t mean you aren’t a fighter. You’ve made your way here without a soul who knows you. You stood tall in front of an angry mob. You’ve all the spirit of a fighter if you’d give yourself some credit. Now you just need the skill…and I happen to know someone who could help you out with that.” she said, tilting her head to the side with a grin.
