Our paths cross again

Summary

Before all the mess, Morgana Ingellvar was just a mage who loved books and lived her life in the Necropolis. She hadn't signed up to chase gods. Her last two years had been full of adventure, and yet she missed her home in Nevarra. She was homesick. And she missed Manfred. (And Emmrich too.) The two necromancers first met a few years ago at one of Emmrich's lectures, Self-abnegation techniques for sub-astral navigation. Oh, what a conference it was! A professor challenged Emmrich, a higher dead broke in and started arguing with that professor, the wraiths... Sometimes she stayed so they could continue the discussion, and soon these discussions moved to Emmrich's study over a cup of tea. The two became good friends, and Morgana adored Manfred! When she had to leave the Necropolis, neither of them knew when they would meet again, but fate is a mysterious force...

Or:

Morgana "Rook" Ingellvar and Emmrich Volkarin were friends for years before Rook needed to leave the Necropolis, and she didn't know who is Bellara's mysterious fade expert...

 

Our paths cross again

 

Morgana took a deep breath, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was home. The Necropolis was as grand how she remembered it, dark and yet magical. A place where she grew up, a place that holds both good and bad memories, but it was her home.

She almost forgot that Bellara was with her – chatting excitedly about Nevarran customs, maybe? It was hard to listen at the moment, even if she felt a little guilty not paying attention to her friend.

Her departure from the Necropolis was… not entirely her idea. During a "civil war" between undead nobility, known later as the War of the Banners, Morgana led a daring attack on the rebellion's dueling leaders, and it was a success, quelling the war and saving lives. But her destruction of these undead nobles was controversial. Some Mourn Watchers feared she had offended the order's aristocratic patrons and encouraged her to travel for a while.

Hah, traveling… like she actually had a say in it. But that’s how she met with Varric, so maybe everything happened for a reason. Fate was a mysterious force. Still, she wished to come home if she survive this whole ordeal with the gods. Myrna and Vorgoth were like family, and she was still in touch with them, and oh, how she missed them.

As they ventured deeper, Bellara's excitement was contagious, but in Morgana's case, it was for a completely different reason. A tall figure wearing a glamoured skeleton's head waved his hand with such elegance that his magic felt alive, as the skeleton on the slab stirred, sitting up when green flames ignited within its skull thanks to the necromancer's magic. Spirit-calling. It was such an incredible art form, one Morgana was fascinated by and glad to have seen firsthand. Not only was the reanimation of any type difficult, but to seamlessly align a spirit and a body in a way that didn’t corrupt the spirit or create malign intent required an especially impressive command of magic.

The skeleton joined the others, holding a pickaxe. There were so many undead skeletons, it was truly a remarkable feast for any necromancer to animate so many at once. She can recognize that magic anywhere, and her lips curled in a genuine smile.

 

“Visitors! What a marvelous surprise! Any trouble with the lift? Our last guests were stuck for hours, poor souls!” He flicked his hands with such ease, his grave gold clinking softly with the movement, and his glamour vanished, revealing a familiar face. “Professor Emmrich Volkarin of the Mourn Watch.”

His elegant, yet confident mannerism was just the same as she remembered, the way he always held himself when he gave a lecture to his students, or when he was enthusiastic about explaining something he knew a lot about and wanted to share it with someone else. How she missed those passionate debates with him! She was so lost in the moment, and the next thing she knew, Bellara was shaking the Professor's hands – both of them – and his golden bracelets clinking loudly.

“Hello, Professor!” She said excitedly, still shaking the poor man's hands rather aggressively, and she bit her lip to stop herself chuckling at the scene. “We’ve never met. Well, not in person, but I’ve been writing to you.” 

“Bellara? My dear girl, what a pleasure! Surely you didn’t come all this way just to see me?” He seemed pleasantly surprised, but still a little lost with the energetic girl.

“Um…” Bellara’s voice was awkwardly strained as she relinquished her hands from his. For a moment, he recoiled as if to check that his hand was still in one piece after her enthusiastic grip. “Actually… we did. You see, we need a Fade expert…”

 

Morgana has chosen this moment to step beside Bellara, her voice low but warm.

“Emmrich.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t have the chance to look at the other visitor, and then his surprise melted into fondness that spook about familiarity between the two necromancer.

“Morgana! What a pleasant surprise.” This time she can’t suppress a happy chuckle.

“In the flesh.”

“Myrna mentioned that a fellow mourn watcher might pay a visit, but she never said a word about that this mysterious necromancer is you.”

“Of course she hasn’t… she didn’t said a word to me either about who our fade expert is going to be, and it was actually Bellara idea that we might need one, and she also exchanged letters with one.” She glanced at Bellara, who seemed just as confused as earlier Emmrich. “Oh, Bells, I attended Emmrich’s lectures a few times and we became quite good friends over the years.”

“Oh! Then you two must be happy to meet again, it is such a happy thing running into friends when we least expect it!” She was an extremely adorable woman, and Morgana liked her from the start when they met in the Arlathan forest. Both of them were elves and mages also, sharing a passion for history, and her curiosity about necromancy and nevarran customs when others were alerted was a welcome change.

“We agree on that.” She smiled at the both of them, but held the older necromancer’s gaze just a little longer. Emmrich eyes were warm, and she wanted to discuss so many things with him, the letters over the last two years were shy in comparison to standing face to face in person.

“We can speak more, but first there are a few problems I need to attend to.” Emmrich sighed, then he clasped his hands together. “Ah, but may I ask your help? The three of us surely can solve them faster.”

"I would enjoy working with you again. Bells?" Morgana can't hide her excitement, she truly missed the halls of the Necropolis.

"Of course! Rook talked so much about the Necropolis, I want to see more of it. I mean, I wouldn't mind helping."

“Wonderful! Then we must go to the even deeper levels.”

“Let me guess, spirits are wreaking havoc, and the halls are changing and moving on their own accord?” She grinned amusedly, and Emmrich let out a deep laugh, but his voice grew more serious.

“Just the usual, but there have been more strange cases since the tears in the veil.”

“Stange things happen also in Arlathan, like the magic itself changing.” Bellara added, and they all became quiet. They have a lot to discuss later.

 

~~•✧•~~

 

Well, they truly did not expected a despair spirit, but the Halls not have earned their reputation for nothing. And more Venatori… Morgana just wanted a bath and a good book. Just one day without weird stuff, but well… a girl can dream.

Emmrich was still talking to Myrna, when she heard a familiar hiss. She spun around and a broad smile broke out on her face.

"Manfred!"

The skeleton hissed again, happy to see Morgana, and the next thing she knew she was hugging the little skeleton. The little curiousity spirit doesn't leave Emmrich's side, and he has given him a body made of various bones - Emmrich once told her that Manfred chose his own skull! What a shame she couldn't see it in person, it must have been a special occasion. Manfred became his assistant, he was clever and loved learning new things, but he couldn’t speak, instead communicating with growls and hisses, but she always loved the little spirit.

She felt bony fingers on her back and heard Emmrich laugh. When the two separated from the hug, Manfred refused to let go of Morgana’s hand, and she didn’t mind.

“Manfred truly missed you, he must be happy to see you again.”

“I missed him too, both of you!” She couldn't contain her delight and didn't even notice the tiny slip of the tongue, or Emmrich's face, which for a moment seemed slightly red. Maker help him.

 

~~•✧•~~

 

While Bellara went back ahead to the Lighthouse, Morgana stayed with Emmrich. He still needed to pack his things, and he truly looked lost standing before one of the bookshelves. She started giggling.

“How many books do you plan to bring with you?”

“Oh, well, you never know what I might need…” He looked back just for a moment, then his attention was on the books again. Silly man, but Morgana understood him. Her room in the Lighthouse was beautiful and calming – Sola's meditation room – but it didn’t have too many shelves… and she didn’t have a bed, just a green sofa. She groaned at the thought and instead stepped beside Emmrich.

“You know, I miss having books, I mean my own collection.”

“They’re still here in the Necropolis?” Now the mage turned fully to Morgana, and she shrugged her shoulders.

“I thought I was going to come back sooner… but, well.”

“Oh.” Emmrich's voice was sympathetic, and his gaze held an understanding. In all honesty, he too missed their friendship the past two years, but he didn’t think Morgana felt this sad… this homesick. Suddenly, he clasped his hands together, his jewelry jingling with the movement. “You are here now, why don’t you fetch your books? Manfred and I, we can help.”

“That’s a brilliant idea! Why have I never thought about that?” Her whole face brightened up, and Emmrich was a little pleased with himself that he brought that smile to her face. He truly missed her company dearly. Emmrich was a very social person, loved the company of others, and yet he lacked deeper friendships. He liked talking about anything and everything for hours, discussing the smallest theories. He was a generally kind person with such a big heart like the whole Thedas, but he could be a little… too much. But Morgana matched his passion in their work as Mourn Watchers, his enthusiasm for life, for the fade, for books… even for the smallest things.

His smile became softer listening when she started listing aloud the books she wanted to bring back. He hopes this Lighthouse has enough shelves…