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Summerday had arrived in Orlais once again. The official mark of the beginning of summer and the streets were crowded with people from all over Thedas to join in the celebrations. Children entering their eighteenth year donned white gowns, a mark of their coming of age. It was a most holy day and the Chantry had been busy preparing the parade for later this afternoon.
Brightly colored flowers decorated the various stalls and the scent of the flowers mixed with the various fried foods being sold filled the warm air. Vendors called out the trinkets and treats they had for sale and sweethearts danced in the center square as fiddlers played. This was a jubilant time, celebrating summer and the joy of marriage.
Joyous for most, but for Emmrich Volkarin it was a bittersweet time. The last time he was at the Summerday festival in Orlais, he’d met the love of his life. Or so he thought until she broke his heart. Shattered was actually what happened. Shattered and ground into the dirt.
They had spent the whole summer together exploring Orlais and each other. She taught him the intricacies of art appraisal and he had indulged every one of her fanciful and expensive whims. Emmrich had been in love with her, hopelessly and disgustingly in love. She had been in it for his status and the way he made her scream his name at night. He thought she loved him too until he’d proposed, offered his name and his soul to her forever but she said no. She had said it was too much, too soon. He was too much. They’d only known each other a few months, she just wanted to have fun and wasn’t ready to settle down with anyone let alone someone so… eager.
A year removed from the day they met, he could see now her affections had been slowly waning as the summer wore on. She had been pulling away finding way to keep herself busy, but he had been blinded by his own foolish heart tricking him into thinking it was love. After she said no, she placed one more kiss to his cheek and walked away. He saw her about town on occasion and they would nod politely, but never speak. He went back home to Nevarra City and buried himself in work, toiling his days away in dark crypts until the shroud of heartbreak lifted.
Emmrich stood from the bench he was on as the smell of candied pecans hit him. He weaved his way through the crowd towards the vendor towards his destination. His heart panged as he saw two young lovers share a kiss, the bloom of new love so sweet with such potential for disaster. Dropping a few extra coins in the tip jar, Emmrich turned accidentally bumping into a young girl. The stack of papers in her hand flew up in the air as the girl tripped and Emmrich caught her quickly before she tumbled to the ground.
“Oh dear, I am so sorry. Let me help you gather your papers.”
He gathered as many papers as he could, a few escaping on the wind and handed a neat stack back to the girl.
“My apologies again, I’ll be sure to watch where I’m going.”
“It’s ok, thank you for helping me. Here take one!”
The girl thrust her hand out towards Emmrich and he took the wrinkled sheet with a smile and a nod. She ran off again and Emmrich tucked the paper away to read later after he’d taken in the festival a bit. His mood had shifted from sour to embarassed and his hope was waning. Emmrich wandered the festival munching on his treat and trying to appreciate rather than disparage when he saw all the things he didn’t have.
A vendor handed him a flower as he passed by, a red rose that pricked his finger as he took it. A perfect metaphor for his love life - hope for something beautiful and sweet, only to bite him and make him bleed. Emmrich tossed the flower in the trash bin as he rounded the street corner and used his magic to heal his small wound.
“Win a prize for your sweetheart?!”
A boistrous dwarf called out to Emmrich and he turned towards the voice. The dwarf had thick brown hair and a braided beard down to his chest. Emmrich smiled politely as he waved the dwarf off.
“No, no. I don’t have a sweetheart, but thank you for the offer.” Ever the gentleman, Emmrich turned away, but the dwarf called out again.
“Win a prize for yourself then! You don’t need a sweetheart to play the game.”
Emmrich smiled for real and nodded, winning for himself did sound like a lovely idea. And maybe just the thing to lift his mood.
The game was easy, throw a ball at a tower of glass bottles. Knock all the bottles down and win a prize. Emmrich knew the game and memories of winning a prize a year ago flooded his mind. He grabbed a ball and lobbed it at a bottle in the middle of the tower. His throw was stronger than intended as he released some of his anger with the ball. Emmrich’s aim was perfect and the ball hit the bottle in the middle and clattered down bringing the bottles above it down too.
His second throw was stronger than the first as he continued to use the game to let go of the past. Three more bottles toppled down leaving one small tower of bottles left. His third pitch was true and the remaining bottles fell.
The dwarf cheered and handed Emmrich a stuffed griffon along with a firm handshake. Emmrich took his prize and felt a bit lighter as he walked away with a new toy friend. Manfred would love this and Emmrich smiled as he pictured his skeleton apprentice being fascinated with the toy animal.
He tucked the toy in his satchel and noticed the streets were being cleared for the parade. Emmrich found a seat with a view of the parade and finished his pecans with a cold glass of lemonade from a nearby stall. The parade was always a lovely sight to see. The children in their white gowns started in the center square with baskets of flowers and candy they tossed to the crowd as they passed by. Brothers and Sisters in the chantry along with the Reverend Mother trailed behind them guiding them down the path. The parade route led them to the chantry where the Reverend Mother and Grand Clerics taught the young adults the true responsibility of adulthood.
As those in white gathered in the center square Emmrich looked around at all the faces who had come to celebrate. Young and old, full of happiness and longing. He suddenly remembered the paper the young girl had given him and he pulled it from his pocket.
Andraste’s Blessing
Seven flowers to be gathered at night
Each one different to help ease a love plight
Pluck them in silence, not even a prayer
Walk your path backwards with no order or care.
Jump over a fence after each flower chosen
Ensure your heart has a chance to be stolen.
Slip them under your pillow before drifting to sleep
Hope for sweet dreams of a true love to keep.
A bright red tulip for someone with passion
Purple morning glory for enduring affection.
A stalk of yarrow for love without end
Pink alstroemeria for both lover and friend.
Daffodil will summon one resilient and strong
A peony and a dahlia for a long lasting bond.
Dream of the one you would be proud to marry
With a promise to cherish and whose heart you will carry.
Pray to the gods or make a wish on the stars
For the one who can see your soul through your scars.
Keep hope in your heart and your mind clear and true
Do this to find whose been waiting for you.
Emmrich read the poem - folklore, a myth passed down for generations. A mere fairytale told to the children he stopped hoping he would have someday. He scoffed at the poem as he read it again. Such fodder. He’d heard of many people who had been “blessed” by Andraste with this poem, but he’d never believed it was from following the rhyme. It was just luck or circumstance, surely. A quiet voice in his head did want to believe it, as ridiculous as it may be and he couldn’t deny the pull in his heart. Emmrich read the poem again. The words didn’t seem so silly this time and he wrestled with the notion of actually going through with it. That quiet voice spoke again. What if? He’d never been one for superstition, yet he strangely felt the urge to indulge that voice on this hopeful day. It couldn’t be that simple, right? For once, his heart and his head were aligned, so Emmrich decided to follow the instructions even though he still had doubts anything would come of it other than ruining some perfectly good flowers.
The parade was about to start and Emmrich already felt better. The dourness he had brought with him to the festival had slowly melted away and had been banished as he decided to follow his heart and the poem. The music started and the older children started the merry procession. Emmrich watched as people lined the streets and cheered as the parade passed them by. The parade participants threw out candies and flowers to the crowd as they danced down the street with whimsical abandon.
Emmrich stood from his seat to get a better view as the parade approached his viewing spot. A young woman, dressed in a white dress approached Emmrich and held up a flower crown. He couldn’t help but laugh as she placed the flower crown atop his head and gave him a curtsy and a wave before running off to catch up with her friends.
The “chance” encounter with the younger girl before and now having been singled out for this delightful flower crown only bolstered the hope he now felt and his imagination ran wild.
Who would he dream of? What would they be like? He hoped whoever they were would be kind and generous with a pure heart. Someone who would love him, someone who would stay.
The revelry of the parade came to an end a short while later and soon the sun was setting and the festival was over until next year. Emmrich was one of the last to leave the festival, not quite ready to let go of the spirit of the day. He’d felt so heavy in his loneliness the last few months and today had been the first time that heaviness had not been there. Emmrich was afraid that the moment he left the festival, the heaviness and loneliness would return. Yet as he trudged out of the celebration, he caught a glimpse of himself in a window.
The flower crown still sat upon his head and he saw himself, not just the wrinkles around his eyes or his graying hair, but he saw someone who was worthy of love. He saw someone whose emotions should not be dampened by someone else’s opinion of them. He saw that he was enough and also not at all too much. He was who he was, and he saw someone who loved himself.
He’d come to the festival to find love and somehow he had found it within himself. Emmrich still yearned for another, but no longer was scared of the lonliness or the weight of bachelorhood. Emmrich walked home with a spring in his step and still planning on making a slight fool of himself in the meadows. He still hoped to dream of ‘the one’, but if he didn’t that would be alright too.
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Night had fallen and Emmrich was ready to head back out to the meadows to pick flowers and jump over fences. He’d dressed in light clothing so as not to get too warm while on his adventure and grabbed a small sack from his suitcase to put his flowers in. He took one last look at the flower crown sitting on the desk in his room and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. Perhaps he should wear this on his adventure tonight, for a bit of extra luck. He walked to the mirror and placed it on his head, admiring the craftmanship as he adjusted it so it would not fall off. He stared at himself for a moment before giving himself an encouraging smile and heading out into the night.
Emmrich made his way back down to the festival grounds. The night buzzed with anticipation, but he couldnt tell if that came from within or from the magic of the celebrations still lingering in the air. He looked at the poem again - dahlia, yarrow, tulips… these flowers would be impossible to pick all at once. They all grew in different seasons and had varying temperature and climate requirements. Some needed specific pH levels in the soil. Oh well, he would do his best and saw the poem as more of a guideline than a set of rules. The important parts seemed to be in how you gathered the flowers.
Several others were in the meadow, walking backwards, climbing over fences, and all of them were as silent as snow falling. Emmrich entered the area and started walking backwards and looking around for flowers to pick. He came across a tall fence post with morning glories crawling up the side, its leaves lush and verdant green. Emmrich studied the plant for a moment before choosing a large purple flower and plucking it gently from the vine.
He placed the flower in his bag and leapt over the fence in one smooth motion continuing his backwards path through the fields. Emmrich found a peony next and a shady spot full of yarrow after that. After every plucked flower he made sure to jump a fence, that part wasn’t hard to remember, but keeping silent had been a challenge. He was used to muttering to himself or musing outloud to Manfred and had almost slipped a few times.
Emmrich was amazed at his luck. He’d found nearly all the flowers in the poem save for the tulip and the daffodil, it was much too late in the year for those flowers to still be around so he continued his journey. A tangible, familiar prickle of magic suddenly tickled his skin and hestarted to worry if there was something nefarious afoot. It was rare and usually a bad sign when magic could be felt without there being a reason and he hadn’t felt during the festival..
His senses pricked up and he waited a moment to feel the despair that accompanied these thick pockets of magic, yet it never came. Instead an almost euphoric feeling washed over him, holding him in its embrace as if a lover were standing behind him. The magic felt lighter than he was used to, it was playful, more like curiosity than despair and the allure of his own curiosity could not be denied.
Emmrich wandered backwards towards whichever direction his curiosity lead him, not worrying or wondering where it was taking him. A shiver went down his spine as an odd, cool breeze in the warm night air swept past him, yet he continued on.
Despite the late hour, the sun still sat upon the horizon. Brilliant orange light shone out and shifted into bright hues of pink and purple the higher in the sky you looked. Emmrich was entranced by the beautiful sight above him when he suddenly lost his balance in a dip in the ground. He blinked his eyes and sat up slowly, swiping dirt off his trousers. The sight before him made him shake his head and blink again. Perhaps he did hit his head on the ground, because there was surely no way that the tulips and daffodils before him were real. They were perfect, full blooms, brightly colored with no sign of wilting. Emmrich stood and approached them, his heart beating loudly in his head. They had to be fake, someone must’ve planted them to fool him and the others. He reached down to touch the petals softly and pulled back as he realized they were very real. Emmrich looked around and saw he was alone, he must’ve wandered very far for no one else to be in sight.
Emmrich chose the biggest tulip and the brightest daffodil making sure to jump over a fence, of course, then added them to his sack feeling very blessed by Andraste indeed. He turned from his spot and passed underneath a broken arch, the air suddenly a bit warmer than it had been a moment ago. Emmrich stopped in his tracks and turned back to look at the spot he had just left.
He was now convinced he had hit his head. His jaw dropped as the place he had just picked the tulip and daffodil from were empty. Emmrich rushed over to the spot and got down on his knees, digging through the dirt. The flowers had just been here, where could they have gone?
He checked his bag and saw the daffodil and tulip placed gently on top of the others and he knew he hadn’t imagined them.
Whatever it was, the magic or Andraste, most likely both, Emmrich wasn’t going to question it. He rose from the ground and quickly made his way home, unsure of how he would get to sleep at the excitement of finding each one of the seven flowers from the poem.
Emmrich pulled each flower from the bag and tied them together with a piece of ribbon then placed the small bouquet underneath his pillow. He moved through the room at the inn doing his normal nighttime routine - changed into his pajamas, washed his face and applied moisturizer, brushed his teeth and turned off the lights.
He grabbed the flower crown from the desk and pressed its petals between the pages of a heavy book and stacked several more heavy books on top. It had become a good luck charm for him and he wanted to preserve it, even if the luck was now gone. The crown was still a lovely memory of the afternoon and a reminder of the love within himself.
Emmrich crawled into bed and put out the bedside light with a flick of his wrist. His head rested on the pillow and thoughts of lovers past raced through his mind.
He drifted to sleep and soon found himself dreaming. The room he was in was not familiar, but he saw many of his belongings decorated the space. A stained work table stood near the entrance, his embalming tools piled neatly near the head of the table. A desk to his right with letters in his familiar handwriting stacked in the corner.
Emmrich moved farther into the room past the desk and the three-story tall spiral staircase that hugged the room to his left. The room opened up to a small area with a warm hearth lined with floor to ceiling shelves filled with books and many of his trinkets to his right and a work station just beyond the stairs. Manfred hissed happily at him from next to the fireplace as he worked on a task Emmrich didn’t know he could do yet.
Emmrich made his way up the tall spiral staircase to a balcony and many more shelves filled with books. The balcony extended outside to a gorgeous view of a sky that looked like nothing he had ever seen in Thedas. In this dream, the sky looked more like ones he had seen before in the Fade and almost resembled the pink sky in Orlais.
He wandered over to another table on the balcony, a lone skull sat upon it and he picked it up holding it gently in his hands as the entrance door below flew open.
A voice called out, the words were a jumble of noise, but Emmrich knew his name had been called out. He peered over the railing and saw no one specific, but rather a shape, or several shapes rotating through as they made their way up the stairs. Qunari horns in one shape, pointed elven ears in another. Tall and lithe shifted into a shorter and softer form. Hair curled and straightened in the blink of an eye, breasts grew and flattened back out, yet one thing remained the same. Whoever this was loved him, chose him. And he loved them back too.
“I’m up here, Rook!” Emmrich greeted the shape back, surprised he knew what to call them. He felt their arms wrap around his waist and pull him in for a kiss. Their lips soft against his, their tongue warm as it slid into his mouth. Emmrich pressed his hips against his love and they matched in kind, their grip on his waist tightening as they whispered more jumbled words.
Just as before, he knew what they said and how to respond.
“I love you too, my darling.”
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The sun peeked through the curtains in his room as Emmrich woke the following morning. His dream had been so vivid, yet so unclear leaving many questions in its wake. He’d dreamt not of someone, but something, some place where he would find it and he knew in his heart and soul that he had been blessed by Andoral. The Old God of Unity had showed him not when or who, but where he would find the love he sought, all he had to do was be open to new possibilities.
Emmrich pressed the flowers beneath his pillow between the pages of other books and packed them away in his trunk for the return trip back to Nevarra City and the Grand Necroplis. He packed the rest of his belongings away in trunks and watched as they were arranged in the carriage that would bring him home. He had much work to do when he got back and he feared his chance for new adventures was behind him, but he had also not expected yesterday to be what it was.
He’d never had trouble keeping his heart open, it was always his mind that tended to get in his way. He always managed to find reasons to go or other reasons to stay. But as the carriage rumbled forward on the long ride back to Nevarra City he thought back to last night, and how he’d listened to his heart. It had brought him through an unforgettable experience and he couldn’t help but wonder where his heart might lead him next. Perhaps to Treviso or Minrathous, or maybe to that room with the spiral staircase and the one he loved who loved him back.