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The dead had much to say, if only one was willing to listen.
And had the abilities with which to do so, to be quite fair.
Professor Emmrich Volkarin, Mortalitasi, proud member of the Mourn Watch, had just those abilities. He'd had them for a long time, almost as long as he could remember. Though not as long as he'd been without parents.
The color of his magic illuminated him, the ethereal green an aura around his fingers as they danced and wove the tendrils of the Fade into a call, a rest, a haven for a wayward spirit to rejoin its bones once again and speak within this mortal plane.
Across the stone casket stood Rook, staring intently, not at the body within but at the dance of his fingers in the air and the cant of his hand as he worked thought into reality. Emmrich could see the green glow reflected in her eyes, the glimmer seeping into the wondrously purple hues of her irises.
What magnificence, that the woman who had haunted his every waking moment for weeks now had eyes the color of lilacs on a warm spring day. His favorite color.
The skeleton before him jerked as he tied the edges of the spirit he'd summoned to the bones that had once housed it. An echoing luminosity in the ocular cavities of the skull matched the aura still on his hands as the magic took root and the spirit finally tethered itself across the Fade.
"What happened to you?" Emmrich asked, voice lilting with a flair he always felt come on when corpse-whispering. Maybe just a little bit was theater for the woman watching him, so enraptured.
"I… Don't remember… So dark, so very dark. Nothing but fear… Couldn't breathe." The voice emanated from the skull as its jaw moved in a facsimile of talking. "The flash of light before… Help!"
The emotions of the spirit lanced through him, and Emmrich fought not to wince at the terror, the loneliness that he suddenly felt. The corpse was fighting him now, struggling to break free and run from the misery that had apparently been its final moments.
An otherworldly scream tore out of the skeleton, causing both him and Rook to jump. Severing the connection as gently as possible, Emmrich let the spirit slip away back into the Fade, wishing it peace as it went. When it was gone, he released the flow of magic he'd been using, and the aura around his hands faded, casting them both back into the shadows of the Necropolis.
"Wow, it seems like they had a miserable few final moments," Rook said after a pause.
"Not all of us are lucky enough to pass peacefully in our sleep, my dear. Unfortunately, it seems like this poor soul met an untimely end," he replied as he regarded the now still skeleton, pursing his lips and trying not to dwell on that too much.
"You have so much control with your necromancy, Emmrich. It's a wonder to witness you work," Rook said, and he looked up, flushing slightly at her words as he met her eyes.
"You choose the most extraordinary times for compliments," he said, searching her eyes for any hint of deceit, of a lie in this… flirting?
But there was nothing save sincerity in her gaze, the same as all the other times. She'd made so many little comments over the past month or so, and he'd thought it was a joke at first, some trick she would turn on him when he admitted his affections, like a cruel jest. But no, as time went on, she had shown nothing but a genuine interest in him.
And, spirits above, he had a growing affection for her. From the first simple compliment she had paid him, the care she seemed to show to get him settled into the group, and the competency she had displayed as a leader. He was well and truly infatuated now.
They didn't have the time for this, of course, not with ancient elven gods to defeat and the world to save. Never mind the fact that she was likely two decades his junior. Or his impending bid for lichdom. No, his heart showed a complete disregard for all of these factors for why he shouldn't court this beautiful, young woman. Yet it latched onto the scant hope that she could, maybe even did, reciprocate his feelings.
"Shall we move on? Maybe the next person will be a little happier," she said as she stepped back from the grave, heading down the path between the flowers and tombstones.
She flashed a smile at him, as warm as the springtime her eyes so reminded him of, and he felt the meticulously crafted barrier around his heart begin to melt. Whatever her intentions may be, he was lost to the romance, the yearning, singing in his body, desperate to meet the same in hers.
With a small smile of his own, he joined her on the path, catching up to where she'd paused to wait for him. He thrilled at the warmth of her hand as she placed it on his offered elbow, delighted in the slow blink of her eyes as she looked up at him.
"Come, my dear, let us continue our walk," he said, trying not to lose himself in her proximity. But he was falling, plummeting into the depths of his attraction to her.
"Why, Emmrich, I would love to."