"Morgan... wait."
Ozaiah approached the necromancer from behind just as they had turned to go their separate ways for the day.
"I wanted to tell you something. It's nothing ... special, but to me it's my most precious memory."
"When the Wailing Oak trapped me inside, I prayed to the God of Death. He would surely not leave me to my certain doom but... he didn't respond. And I was certain he would never again answer my calls. But then there appeared someone else, who wasn't going to let me die in there. You." As Ozaiah spoke, her usually dull eyes lit up and a rare warmth settled upon her face. She held her staff tight and close, not because it was important to her this very moment, but to keep her planted on the spot rather than lunging into Morgan's arms.
"I know I didn't exactly impress you on that day... but your determined face, and tight grip on my wrist, and reassuring words when you pulled me out from all those cadavers... it all remains edged in my mind. I am so glad you were there. And I hope you will always be there. And ... I want to be there with you, too."
(@windmaedchen-ozaiah)
*Morgan leans towards her, his hand firmly gripping the staff she holds to support his weight.*
I left my best impression on that day? Not perhaps when I fought Azora? Or Salorei? Or when I summoned those souls for the Wildborn ritual? Hey, I even bathed for you once.
You're right, it certainly didn't feel like you were particularly grateful for my efforts at that time...
... but you kinda made up for that ever since.
And you know what? I always suspected it wasn't exactly just the Tree that called me, but you.
I am not gonna lie - I shall take that as a sign, that all my hard work's gonna pay off one day. And you better be there to witness it.