t(-.-t) (the_warden) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-03-07 01:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, maia amell (the warden), morrigan |
Warm and sweet. I’m not too picky with flavour, so whatever you’re making for yourself.
Who: Morrigan and the Warden
What: Tea, conversations about ancient myths, and accidentally setting Morrigan on fire
When: recent
Where: Morrigan's house
Status: complete
Rating: PG-13
Morrigan had put some water on to boil, intending for the tea to be ready by the time Maia arrived. That way there was no need to wait for it to be ready. She would rather enjoy the company than take some time to finish preparing the tea. As a change of pace, Morrigan left her hair loose after having showered earlier. She was dressed in a white blouse and black skirt, however. There were enough buttons of the blouse left undone to give a nice little hint of her cleavage.
She straightened her living room, which had a rustic feel to it. It felt like it belonged in a home in the English countryside as opposed to Orange County. There were fresh flowers in a vase sitting on the mantle. Chrysanthemums, of course. There were a few colors of them arranged nicely. One wall of the room was an entire built-in bookcase that was full of books. Though there was yet another room in the house that was an actual library. Needless to say, the books that were in this room were more leisure reading. Most of her books relating to plants, and anything else she used for work and reference were in the library. There were knick knacks around, many were Chinese in origin, things she had picked up during the time she’d spent in China.
After heading back to the kitchen and preparing the tea, she put everything on a tray, including, milk and sugar, and carried it into the living room, setting it on her coffee table. For the moment, both of her cats were in the living room, one perched on the back of the couch, the other on the climbing tree she had in the corner. But their position would no doubt change once Maia arrived.
To say Maia was excited to be seeing Morrigan’s place was an understatement. She was downright ecstatic. She’d found herself connecting to people from her dreams in ways she’d never had with others, and it was something she wanted to explore no matter to what end.
She’d brought her tablet, which had most of her notes for their likely discussion (another thing she enjoyed, Morrigan kept her brain firing on all cylinders).
Like she’d promised, she’d washed most of Barkspawn’s scent off of her, and then tidied herself up. Hair in a messy bun, librarian style glasses and a top to match, along with a pencil skirt. Very similar to the ensemble she’d worn to see Kanan, but she was curious to see if it would have the same effect.
She knocked on the door and shifted her weight nervously.
At the knock, Morrigan smiled, having timed the tea perfectly. She’d also gotten her own notes out, and they sat on the coffee table beside the tray of tea. Both of her cats stirred a bit, clearly preparing themselves for someone else to enter the house. They were long used to Morrigan having clients come and go in the house, but not usually at this hour. And when she had clients here, they were kept in another room so they wouldn’t be running amok.
Answering the door, Morrigan couldn’t help but to glance over Maia’s appearance. Well. That was...definitely something. Something that made Morrigan pause, momentarily forgetting she needed to actually speak.
“Excellent timing, the tea is just ready. Do come in,” she greeted with a smile as she stepped aside to let Maia in. Her hair was possibly longer than one would expect it to be, hanging a bit lower than midway down her back.
Morrigan was something too, even if, technically, she’d actually seen more of Morrigan in their dreams than she had here. That robe of hers left little to the imagination. She smiled at the herbalist, trying to ignore the heat that suddenly flashed across her face. “I’ve always got stellar timing, as you’ll well learn!”
“I am glad for that. Tis never a good trait to be consistently late for things.” Morrigan quipped dryly, closing the door and leading Maia to the living room. A black and silver Bengal cat sat up on the couch, staring intently at this new visitor. It was clear she wasn’t certain whether to investigate or to run off and hide somewhere.
In the corner, a red Abyssinian poked her head up, eyeing the exchange curiously from her reclined position in the climbing tree. But she didn’t seem as bothered to flee or to go investigate at this precise moment.
“Please, make yourself comfortable,” she said as she motioned to either of the couches or comfy-looking armchairs flanking the coffee table.
“I try to avoid that,” Maia quipped, a smile dancing on her lips. The cats were too far away for her to offer a hand to smell or to offer pets but she was sure they’d come to investigate once they were used to her presence. “Thank you.”
She took a seat on one of the couches, leaning back and crossing her legs. “Your place is lovely. Much more lived in than my new flat.”
Morrigan cast a glance at her cats, knowing full well that Bastet would come investigate sooner or later. Persephone, on the other hand, may take a bit longer before she ventured closer. Morrigan took a seat on the couch beside Maia. It was the optimal place to sit for conversation. Or so she told herself, at any rate.
“I have put effort into achieving such a look. Course it helps that I work out of my home as well, so it sees more use.” And she needed comfortable places for clients to sit when she was doing a consultation and all. “How do you take your tea?”
The strange thing was, based on the dreams at least, Maia wouldn’t think that Morrigan would have a home that was so inviting. She rested one hand on the couch armrest, in the traditional fingers up ‘if you kitties want a scritch look it’s a hand’ position, but her attention was focused on Morrigan. “Warm and sweet. I’m not too picky with flavour, so whatever you’re making for yourself.”
Which was a clever way of finding out Morrigan’s preferred tea, for potential use later.
“So trusting that I would not surreptitiously add poison to it!” Morrigan teased, her tone a bit exaggerated, showing she was only joking. If she was going to poison someone’s drink, it wouldn’t be Maia’s that she’d poison. So she poured two cups of tea, adding a dash of sugar and a dash of milk to both before offering one to Maia.
As soon as the tea was handed over, there was suddenly a curious Abyssinian cat standing about a foot or so from the couch, eyeing the visitor with curious green eyes.
“Ah, t’would seem that you have attracted a visitor,” Morrigan commented upon spotting the more outgoing of her two cats. “That is Bastet.”
“If you wanted to poison me I’m sure that there are ample opportunities,” Maia joked. If Morrigan wanted to poison her, she could easily do it with plenty of opportunity. But she was willing to trust her. At least where herbs were concerned.
Maia noticed the cat as well, smiling brightly and offering her hand for the sniff test. “Hello Bastet. A pleasure to meet you.”
“Indeed there are,” Morrigan said with a bit of a smirk as she sipped her tea. She certainly wasn’t about to do anything like that. She wasn’t the type to play practical jokes, otherwise she’d probably try to slip some harmless herb into one of Maia’s drinks sometime just to make her wonder what exactly she’d put in it.
Bastet paused momentarily before she came forward. She sniffed at Maia’s hand, carefully inspecting each finger before she decided that she was alright.
Give Maia time. She’d ask about herbal supplements. Once she passed inspection, she gently scritched the cat behind the ears. “I think I passed the first test.” Her other hand picked up the tea and she took a sip, nodding in approval. “Oh, that’s good.”
“She likes you,” Morrigan stated as she watched Bastet enjoy the scritches. She glanced over to the couch, only to see Persephone wasn’t there any longer. She was probably doing an end-around, no doubt somewhere behind the couch they were currently sitting on as she adjusted to the presence. “She is the more out-going of my cats. Certainly worthy of her name.”
“Good, I always like it when the kitties respond to me.” She winked at Morrigan. “They’re both so beautiful. Worthy of their human.” After all, even if she was more of a dog person, she knew a cat owned their human rather than the other way around.
“Well, tis certainly good to know that,” she responded. She sipped her tea, smiling. “Indeed they are. I am most certainly happy to be owned by them.” And considering their breeds, it was obvious Morrigan would need to put in a lot of time paying attention to them. Which she did, and if she needed to spend long hours in the lab, she had plenty of things to keep them busy until she was done.
Maia could never understand neglectful animal owners. They relied on their people and trusted them, and while she couldn’t always take Barkspawn out as long as he’d like, she still did her best. Luckily Mabari were very intelligent and she knew a couple of neighbors who didn’t mind him playing with their dogs. “I believe I came here for a reason, but I find myself distracted.”
Likewise, Morrigan hated neglectful animal owners. She took excellent care of her cats. In fact, she spoiled them rotten. While she’d picked up all the cat toys and put them away, it was still obvious her cats were well cared for. And she also fed them the proper food that was protein-based. None of that ‘all-natural’ plant-based stuff that was not in a cat’s natural diet. And for that matter, dogs didn’t eat that stuff either.
“Ah, you have fallen prey to Bastet’s charm, I see.” Morrigan teased. “Or is it my charm you are distracted by?”
Maybe they could go take care of animal abusers. Their own little crusade. Maia grinned at Bastet. “You’re such a sweetheart.” Really, it wouldn’t take much for Bastet to have her completely wrapped around her paws. “And you are too, Bastet.”
Morrigan couldn’t help but to chuckle as Bastet was enjoying the attention. She even leapt up on the couch to join them, taking up residence in Maia’s lap. “Just be certain to leave her here and not accidentally take her home with you,” Morrigan commented dryly, a little sparkle in her eyes.
“That would be one way to introduce her to Barkspawn,” Maia quipped. She stroked one hand across the cat’s soft fur and returned the rest of her attention to Morrigan. “There were cats in the tower. They weren’t the friendliest to most people. But it’s fascinating how cats are regarded throughout different cultures.”
“My fierce Abyssinian meeting a Mabari. Now that would be quite the sight to see.” Morrigan didn’t know how Bastet would react to a dog like the Mabari, but there was clearly only one way to find that out. “Indeed it is. The Egyptians always fascinated me in their regard for cats. Bastet, for example, is one of the prime examples of just how revered cats were in their culture that one of their goddess had the head of a cat.”
Maia had visions of the cat riding atop the Mabari like a knight and she stifled a giggle behind her hand. She could probably ride Barkspawn like a horse, herself! She affected a serious face. “Anything in particular that appeals to you about her? Besides the cat-head thing. Which makes you think. If she had the head of a cat was she as flexible as one? You know, to clean herself.”
“The early interpretations of Bastet always intrigued me, the war goddess, protector of Lower Egypt and the pharaoh, with the head of a lioness. I always found her to be quite a strong character in that lore. Though the transition she made to being akin to Artemis is also fascinating. Certainly I am able to see the connections between the two goddesses and why Greeks and Egyptians alike would equate the two.” Then again, a lot of Egyptian lore and mythology had such a transformation, some that she found quite intriguing.
“I think there was a lot of cross-pollination throughout the region. The most obvious were the Romans blatantly stealing the Greek gods, but the Greeks lifted much of their lore from earlier sources, and there are always some similarities between multiple cultures.” And she loved it. “I think an argument can be made that modern urban legends and fantasy literature is simply continuing an ancient trend.”
“Ah yes, the Romans. The Romans who liked to steal the ideas of other people and make them their own. Nevertheless, beyond that there are plenty of common threads across cultures that made it easy to adapt other concepts into one’s own established system of beliefs. Which is why Bastet went through quite the change over the millennia. Initially being a war and sun goddess, she eventually made the shift to being a moon goddess as she inherited some qualities from Artemis. As times changed, so did beliefs in some respects.” After all, that was how several of the world religions and mythologies came about. “Though I believe you are correct. There is little difference between modern urban legends and fantasy literature and the legends and mythology of old. After all, so many stories were passed through the ages. It is human nature to tell stories, whether the intent is to frighten, to entertain or to teach a lesson.”
Maia listened, a big grin on her face as Morrigan talked. The woman knew her stuff, which was wonderful, and the inflection of her voice was mesmerizing and almost hypnotic. “You know what would be a really interesting experiment? Vaguely describe urban myths and ancient myths and see if people can figure out which is what.”
Indeed Morrigan knew her history and mythology well. And if she ever found an area where her knowledge was lacking, she’d study up on it and educate herself. She had a very deep love of history and attempting to learn what the ancients knew. “That would certainly be quite the experiment. I certainly would like to hear what some people’s responses would be.”
It could even be something Maia could produce, put on the internet and gauge responses. Or she could do it in her class. “Do you think my students would be good test subjects? Students are usually good test subjects. Alas, you already know my plan, so I cannot test on you.”
“I would make quite the poor litmus test for you, in such regard.” Morrigan said with a chuckle. “Though I agree you should give your students this test. Start with them, then take a group of people who seemingly have no attachment to history or mythology and the like. Compare the results, and see which group does best.”
“Good idea! Maybe on the Valarnet. That would be an interesting experiment.” Something to think about. She put her tea down so she could reach for her tablet. “I’ve been taking notes about what I remember from Thedas. I wanted to get a record of it. And maybe compare it to our world.”
“Yes, do it on Valarnet, then I can see the responses as well.” Morrigan agreed with a smile. She sipped her tea, and glanced at Maia. “Tis quite the comparison to make. Though shall we simply agree now that Orlais seems to be some version of France and the Holy Roman Empire mixed together? And the Chantry rather seems to be a complete inversion of the Roman Catholic Church.” So she already began with the comparisons to their world. But really, those two were pretty easy ones to make.
“Are you secretly a troll, Morrigan? Do you lurk on internet forums and unleash scathing commentary upon those who dare to cross you?” Maia rested her chin on her hand, until Bastet glared at her and she resumed pets. “Most definitely. Perhaps Ferelden is a bit of a germanic and britannic mixture, too, I’d wager. Nevarra seems Spanish.”
“And if I am, what shall you do about it?” Morrigan countered easily. “I would agree on the mix of Germanic and Britannic for Ferelden. The Qunari seem to be Islamic, perhaps? And Rivain is a little more difficult to pinpoint, but I would say perhaps Indian? At the very least they seem to remain untouched by the Chantry.”
“You don’t have the right hair for it,” Maia said, thinking about those ridiculous toys her mother had been in love with. The ones with the huge erect hair. “It feels like there’s a great deal of intermingling. Like taking a basic template and then building upon it. Perhaps the Maker is a fan of Dungeons and Dragons.”
“Pity, then I suppose I am not a troll,” she responded with a dry chuckle. “It rather seems the Maker is such a fan. Thedas truly seems to be some sort of Dungeons and Dragons campaign. The Blights. Dragons. Elves. Dwarves. Large, horned people. Hollywood would probably love to get its hands on this dream world of ours.”
“Maker!” Maia laughed, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. “Could you imagine though? They’d probably cast half of Rivain out of Norway or something ridiculous like that.” She had a Low Opinion of Hollywood casting agents.
“Actually they may go for Russia. The Avvars may have the monopoly on Norway.” At least in Morrigan’s opinion, what she knew of the Avvars was in line with the Norse. “Though I suppose if people who knew what they were doing got a hold of the project, they would do it correctly. And ensure that not all the villains had British accents. Americans do so love making us the villains even now.” She said with a slight shake of her head.
“Well, everyone good and bad seems to have one in the dreams. Unless you’re a dwarf.” Dwarves with American Accents would never cease to amuse her. She’d expected Scottish. Or Welsh. “Do you think they’ll ever figure out we let them win?”
Morrigan chuckled. “If they have not figured it out by now, they never will. They are simply too wrapped up in that whole freedom thing.” She sipped her tea. Sometimes Americans amused her. Most of the time, they were annoying.
“It’s rather like a cult, don’t you think?” Maia tried to coax the cat into her lap. “The cult of freedom and yet they’re so very good at giving their freedoms up at the drop of a hat!”
There were comparisons that could be made between the American Empire and the fall of the Roman Empire, but they were usually best avoided in American company.
“Perhaps a bit, yes. T’would explain the rise of some want-to-be tyrants.” Morrigan obviously meant the Presidential hopeful with the horrific hair, if one could even call that poof thing on Trump’s head hair.
Bastet was taking a liking to this new human in her home. She gave her attention, so it didn’t take much before she leapt into Maia’s lap, purring loudly.
Ah yes, Doberman Fump. Maia laughed in delight as Bastet hopped into her lap. She gave the cat the full attention of both of her hands, one on her ears the other stroking down her spine. “She’s so soft. Ahem.”
Morrigan had to smile, watching as Bastet arched her back into Maia’s hand. The cat was obviously enjoying herself immensely. “Indeed she is.” It was then that Persephone decided she could be brave. Though by ‘brave’ she leapt up onto the armrest beside Morrigan, peering around her human cautiously and yet curiously. “Ah, the other one finally makes her appearance.”
“She’s a little less brave than her sister, I take it?” Maia smiled, though she continued to give attention to Bastet in a way that was clearly intended to make Persephone jealous.
“She is more introverted and shy around strangers, yes. She does come around eventually, however.” Morrigan looked at the silver and black Bengal cat beside her. There was intent looking at Maia and Bastet, but that was all she was doing for the moment.
Pretending to ignore a cat was the best way to get it to not ignore her, so Maia returned her focus to Morrigan. “So what do you think the oldest story really is? That one story that we can maybe trace back to the very beginning, when we first learned to think of something other than surviving.”
“I think perhaps stories regarding the Sun and the Moon. Mankind has always held some fear of the night. I would imagine those were among the first stories told once the Sun had set and the night settled in.” Morrigan replied. “Though it could equally be some story about a higher power, attempts to explain the natural phenomena around them.”
“Something to do with lightning or fire. Or even the animals that hunted them. Or the ones they hunted.” Maia shrugged her shoulder. “Or perhaps all of the above. Stories growing on each other as we spread out across the globe, new ones replacing old ones or simply adding to the myth. But perhaps it’s the moon. Once, a woman looked up at the sky at night, and stared at the full moon, and had the first conscious, reflective thought.”
“Perhaps it was all of the above. It is not as though they had any shortage of things to tell tales about. Coming across the bones of dinosaurs giving rise to tales of dragons and sea monsters. Fire, Sun, Moon, storms, earthquakes, volcanoes. And that is not even yet coming to the animals that lived alongside them. Some of them being in the midst of evolving from their dinosaur and prehistoric ancestors into animals we are more able to recognize today.” It was fascinating, really, to ponder it.
In Thedas there were no dinosaurs. But there were dragons. Their very Age was named after the creatures, and after one of her dreams she’d spent hours on the internet reading up on the beasts. “It’s surreal to think about it. Animals we think of as ancient yet still living when the pyramids were built.”
“Indeed tis always a wonder when reading of ancient civilizations, and they have drawings of animals that have been extinct for a couple millennia now.” Morrigan reflected on that for some moments, while Persephone was starting to make her way along the back of the couch towards Maia. “What I have always wished to know was what knowledge the Great Library of Alexandria contained before it was lost. So much knowledge of what the ancients knew. Perhaps we would currently be living on Pluto, or an entirely different solar system by now had that library not been lost.”
Sneaky cat was being sneaky. Maia continued to ignore her. The better to lure her in with. The kitty in her lap didn’t seem to mind the attention, at least. She nodded along. “One interest thing I discovered while doing some research, is that there is some debate about how much was actually lost. The library was already in decline and had been sending many of its scrolls elsewhere, and there were several burnings over time but no singular destruction. But all the knowledge we have of it is in bits and pieces so the truth is probably somewhere in the middle.”
“I am a proponent of the theory that there was more than one fire in that library. Though I sit here and talk about Alexandria, but there were other ancient libraries that could arguably have held more knowledge than that one. Such as the library of Nalanda in India, which contained an elaborate classification system to hold what was, at the time, the largest collection of Buddhist literature. Or even the House of Wisdom in Baghdad, which contained Greek and Arabic works on mathematics, astronomy, zoology, and cartography.”
Persephone paused on the back of the couch just to the side of Maia. She watched Bastet getting the attention and then, in a fit of bravery, she placed both of her front paws on Maia’s shoulder, front half standing on it while her back legs were still on the back of the couch. She then started to sniff at Maia’s face.
“Some of that knowledge was only lost in the west,” Maia pointed out. “We like to pretend that the Dark Ages were some huge thing, when it was only Europe that suffered from it. I once read a theory that there was a small scale comet impact in Ireland at the time, which cooled the continent and led to stagnation.”
Maia glanced with her eyes, not daring to move her head. But she did click her tongue encouragingly.
“That is rather the mentality of the west, believing it was the center of the world and such terrible times were world-wide when they were not. The west is not the center of the world, it just made itself that way. The east has much more to learn and discover, much of it unknown to the west simply because of that belief the west is somehow better and more cultured when that is, at times, far from the truth of the matter.”
Persephone spent a good minute sniffing the side of Maia’s face, her ear and her hair. Finally, she seemed to deem her as being okay and fully perched on her shoulder. After all, Bastet had a monopoly on the lap.
“It did take a long time for black powder to reach Europe.” Now, there were a lot of fascinating myths and stories that spun out of old Europe. The origins of many fairy tales. But every culture had their fairy tales and their myths, and Europe was less than half of the focus of her class. She usually spent an entire semester on the Americas and only a couple of days of that on settler legends and folklore like Paul Bunyon and John Henry.
“Indeed it did. Europeans were a little caught up in other things, such as the Norse raiding their way through the coastal regions, and the Black Death, among other things.” Morrigan noted, sipping her tea. “We have covered our favorite mythologies, but do you have a favorite culture? Providing it differs from your favorite mythology, of course.”
“Mm, while there’s something to be said for Oktoberfest,” Maia started. She snapped her fingers at Persephone, trying to draw the cat’s attention towards her hand and potentially offered pettings. But instead of just a snapping sound, there was a spark like lightning.
“Oktoberfest, interesting,” she said. Though whatever Morrigan may have said next was stopped when she did catch that spark like lightning. She blinked in surprise, and Persephone flinched slightly, not having expected that little spark. “Was that a flicker of magic?”
“Uhm.” Maia had been about to say what was better than Oktoberfest, but the magic display had altered her plans. She snapped her fingers again but nothing happend. “Come on…” Snap, snap, snap.
And Morrigan’s curtains caught on fire.
Well that was disconcerting, to say the least. “You stop snapping your fingers lest you set one of us on fire next!” As she said that, Morrigan leapt to her feet and moved to put the fire out. Morrigan was oddly collected in dealing with the fire. Quite the opposite of both of her cats, whom had both suddenly vanished from sight.
“I can think of useful ways to use electricity and if my dreams are to be believed i’ve already employed them.” Despite the flippant nature of her remarks there was some alarm in her tone as she got up. The cats had already scattered. “Should I try a spell? I know a spell!”
Maia felt a little lightheaded.
“No, I can take care of this.” Morrigan was not going to risk a lightning storm or a blizzard suddenly appearing in her living room just to put out the fire. Besides, she was moving quickly, dashing out of the room momentarily, then returned and doused the flames quickly before much more damage was done. “There, that is dealt with.” She looked the area over carefully, ensuring there were no remaining flames or sparks that needed to be tended to, then she turned and headed back to sit down on the couch. She’d fix the curtains later.
Maia also felt a little giddy. Magic. She’d done magic. Sure, Morrigan’s nice curtains burned, but she’d done magic.
It suddenly hit her that it was all real. She sank back onto the couch with a stunned expression on her face. “It’s all real.”
Morrigan looked at Maia, taking in that stunned expression. She then looked back at the damaged curtains. Perhaps she should make attempts at magic-proofing her house as much as possible if she ever got her magic abilities.
“T’would seem so. Was this similar to how your magic manifested in your dreams before you ended up in the Circle?” Morrigan was curious. And it made her wonder if her magic would manifest here similar to how it had for her in her dreams.
“Almost exactly, though there I set fire to the wagon.” That hadn’t gone over well. She rubbed her shoulder, remembering it. “Got the switch then got sent to the circle. Lucky me.”
“Ah, I am sorry that was the reaction you received.” There was clear sympathy in her voice and expression. Morrigan knew the Circle wasn’t the best, and she knew people feared mages, abused them even. Yet she was disconcerted at the level of interest her own mother had shown towards her being a mage. “Are you feeling alright?”
Maia smiled at her. “I’m fine. It just sank in. All of this is real. I used magic. I’m a mage.” Sure, getting her staff had been proof enough, but she’d felt the flow of power through her. “Maker, do you think we’ll need Lyrium?”
That was going to be something in short supply. While magic replenished naturally over time, sometimes you couldn’t wait.
“You certainly are a mage.” Morrigan would simply need to wait and see when, or if, her magic would manifest. “That is an excellent question. I do not know. It could be possible considering how this place goes insane now and then. Whether we get Lyrium or not is something entirely different.”
“Wouldn’t that be something? What if it comes already processed? Or what if it needs to be mined?” They didn’t have dwarves who could safely handle the stuff. And shit, what about templars? Alistair she knew hadn’t yet gotten addicted, but there was Cullen. And while he wasn’t actually the rat bastard from her dreams, he was still a Templar and so she was torn.
“Let us hope it would already be processed. I see a significant lack of dwarves around to mine it for us.” Lyrium was dangerous. Then again, most things in Thedas had great potential for being dangerous. Morrigan wasn’t certain that even if they received processed Lyrium that she’d be able to replicate it and continue making it. And she didn’t see the dreams giving some unending supply of processed Lyrium. A Lyrium mine? Probably, but that might be pushing it.
Thedas itself was dangerous, Maia wouldn’t be surprised if the earth itself one day rose up and tried to kill everyone. What was the phrase she’d read in media analysis once? Crapsack world? It was a miracle anyone ever lived happily. “We’ll just have to use our magic sparingly.”
Thedas certainly was dangerous. Blights, dragons, Qunari, humans, wars. Everything had its danger. Magic was its own danger when it came to those who couldn’t control it. “Let us hope that if future happenings involve armies or fighting for prolonged periods of time that there are plenty of mages here so we have ample opportunity to rest and regain our casting ability.”
All that and your average medieval life span, too! Maia no longer had any aspirations to explore life in those kinds of times - she knew them all too well now. Maker bless indoor plumbing.
“Some of my best spells involve a great deal of expenditure,” Maia admitted. Though there was at least one thing she could do, if all else failed...blood magic wasn’t necessarily evil if one went about it the right way. After all, she was pretty sure she could use it to remove, say, a bullet. Or stop someone from bleeding out.
And of course super charge her firestorms, but shhh.
“I rather think that is how it happens to be with the more powerful spells.” Morrigan’s spells seemed to have a scale to them. The more potent spells took more to cast than the less powerful ones did. Though Morrigan’s talents seemed to be a bit varied. She had some elemental spells and entropy spells, then there were her shapeshifting abilities.
She’d really enjoy those shapeshifting abilities if she were to ever get them here.
“I don’t think I’m entirely the subtle type. I learned how to use daggers should magic fail me, but I always figure it’s more effective to throw fire and lightning at any given situation.” And here she was supposed to be diplomatic. Maia tended to be more pragmantic. Stop the Blight, have a crisis of conscience later. She and Shepard should sit down for a drink sometime.
“Zap and burn things first, ask questions later. Such an intriguing thing for one of the only two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden.” There was amusement in her tone. She did like Maia quite a bit more than she liked Alistair, she had to say. Morrigan wasn’t quite the type to throw fire at things unless they were obvious foes attempting to kill them.
But then she’d grown up under Flemeth’s thumb. The magic of old needed to be preserved. Knowledge was just as powerful as any magical spell when applied correctly. There were things Morrigan had knowledge of that 99% of the population of Thedas never even thought could actually exist. Not to mention, Morrigan actually knew the secrets of the Grey Wardens, such as why they were the only people who could actually kill an Archdemon. It was why Flemeth had shoved her onto Maia and Alistair.
Maia as yet was in the dark. More so than Alistair was. She’d been drummed into service without much of any education and her only teacher had died at Ostagar. They were in the dark,with only those old treaties to go by. But maybe they’d find more information, maybe they’d find out what they needed to know to win. Maia didn’t understand why Wardens could beat an Archdemon and no one else could, and she didn’t have time to find out.
“I suppose I should ask some questions before zapping,” Maia admitted. “But in some cases it would probably be easier not to.” She glanced at the curtains, and shrugged. “I hope this all doesn’t come to naught.”
There were other things she’d rather talk about. Maia leaned forward, reaching for her tablet again. “I don’t think we’ll get anywhere just talking about a world that only exists in our dreams…”
Morrigan was wondering if she should tell Maia about the Archdemon thing, why a Grey Warden could kill it or if she’d let her find out about it through the dreams. However that may end up, of course. Morrigan knew of a way to bypass it, but it was still something she wasn’t certain how Maia would react to it in this world. If she didn’t tell her and let her find out through the dreams that she’d known all this time, would Maia hate her for not saying anything? And if she did tell her now, would she appreciate knowing the fate Grey Wardens suffered, knowing what it really meant to have Darkspawn blood coursing through her veins?
Maker, this was why she kept people at a distance. It was less complicated that way. She didn’t have to think about things like this.
“Something tells me it shall prove fruitful.” She would leave it there for the time being.
“You are correct in that assessment,” Morrigan said, a smile crossing her face.