Sorcerer… Cyborg???

~Dammnit, the other consciousness is completely entangled.~

~Pass me the tweezers over there, would you?~

~Sire? There's no chance we can separate the two without damaging both of them.~

~Well, he's a perfect soul for the program, should we send him to Purgatory?~

~Sire, you could just put him through.~

~What, that's completely out of order! It would violate every precedent, the others would be outraged!~

~Sire, he's much too good to pass up.~

~Hmmm, you're right. What's the worst that could happen? Let's send them on their way. ~

The disembodied voices faded away, and now Kothar seemed to be floating in complete darkness. Suddenly, he felt a sudden surge of movement all about him. A sudden burst of bright light hit him, accompanied by a mess of garbled voices.

[Initiating onboard translation service. Language compatible.]

"What a beautiful baby boy, congratulations you two!" A matronly voice echoed in Kothar's ears, he felt himself being swung through the air. 

"Hahaha, thank you. And thank you, dear; I know it's been hard on you." This voice was rough and brash but spoke in measured tones.

Kothar was confused, he vaguely remembered the disembodied voices but this was different, and he felt an enclosing warmth wrapped around himself. He couldn't see very far at all, only a few blurred faces in the distance. 

Kothar squinted his eyes and looked down. He saw a pudgy little arm, emerging from a blanket, he had become a baby! Completely taken aback, he began to scream.

"Oh, look at the poor thing, misses his Mother already." The matronly voice was back, once again, Kothar was swung through the air.

Though he had been poked and prodded all over in the labs of the Alliance, this was perhaps the most ashamed he had ever felt. 

Kothar saw a huge figure loom over him, and a pair massive arms reached towards him.

What was happening now? Kothar had fought entire armadas of alien ships, but this, this was far too much for him.

Sheer confusion, met terror and grief and Kothar began to yell at the top of his lungs.

"Here you go dear, your darling boy." The owner of the huge arms spoke again and Kothar felt himself being enclosed in a pair of warm arms. His whole body instinctively relaxed. He couldn't resist, the biology of his new body took over and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

-----

The days dragged on for Kothar, he would spent most days trying to learn to move his infant body, but it would never respond in the way he expected.

Once he had grown used to his new life, he had imagined he would learn to walk faster than any other child. But the fact of the matter was, he still had the body of an infant, no matter how intelligent his mind was.

An entire year passed by in a breeze, Kothar was now a toddler,  and by some dumb luck or for some mysterious other reason, his new parents had named him Kothar.

He now had a mess of short black curls on his head, and made for an adorable baby.

Hints of Tam and Ophil's features showed in his pudgy face. He resembled Tam more than Ophil, with his piercing blue eyes, and strong nose. A few of the maids found new work, scared of the solemn stare of the little baby, but Ophil always stood by her child. 

Kothar was still unable to speak the tongue of his new world, struggling to form words.

Most ordinary children would be able to speak by his age, but he struggled with the unfamiliar words of his new home, straining to produce even a word.

Fortunately, Kothar listened attentively and as such had grasped some basic information about his new world. Instead of technology, residents harnessed an unknown force, which they called magic. They utilized it for virtually everything, from heating water, illuminating their dwellings or even for transport. To this society, magic was what technology had been to his.

Kothar often heard Silane's smooth disembodied voice, however, she seemed to have regressed and only performed her more basic functions, translating languages he heard and documenting and translating any text he could see. Every day he called out to her in his mind, as he had so every day of his past life.

[Silane? Are you there?]

[Input command.]

He got the same response he had been getting for years now, but he had not given up on trying. His father was evidently a man of means. They lived in a large stone structure, the floors were made of polished wood, with heavy rugs draping the floors. The walls of his new home were decorated with finely woven tapestries that depicted strange flowers and animals.

Kothar often peered out from his nursery window, staring out wide eyed at the rows upon rows of buildings. He watched as strange carriages sped through the street, some with no animals pulling them, but with a massive glowing crystal embedded on the roof. Other carriages were pulled by strange beasts, huge horse-like beasts, but with vicious teeth and scaled all over.

On one occasion, Kothar even spotted a beaked creature, with a flaming mane, pulling an ornate carriage, gilded and carved with intricate patterns.

He had learnt his father was named Tam and his mother Ophil. His father was a tall, olive skinned man with cropped dark hair, and piercing blue eyes. He wore a short beard and Kothar often saw him in loose comfortable clothing.

Tam had rough stubborn features, and a serious look in his eyes, he often spent his evenings out in the courtyard behind the house, but Kothar was still too short to see in any of the windows that overlooked it.

His mother was fair skinned, with cascading brown locks and wore bright vibrant dresses. Each of them was finely embroidered as the tapestries on the walls, and she often spent evenings creating new dresses or tapestries, or adding new designs to one's she adored.

She looked the exact opposite of Tam, with delicate features, a tiny nose and soulful brown eyes. Ophil took every opportunity to pick Kothar up and smother him with affection, and his indignant expression at being demeaned only served to make her laugh.

"You little old soul. "She would chuckle and pat him on the head, ruffling the curls that they both shared, hers brown and flowing. 

--------

Kothar's days whizzed past, and after a year of hard work he had overcome the hudle of forming the strange sounds of his new world. Then he learned to speak rapidly, and his thirst for knowledge only grew, consuming all the books he could.

Kothar's parents appeared unsurprised at his quick grasp of language, providing him with all the story books he could ever want. Soon enough, he began to question his father incessantly.

"Father, what is the name of our city?" Kothar piped up, in his immature voice, which still carried the serious undertone he had in his previous life.

"Balin, son." Tam answered, always quick, to the point and abrupt.

"Father, where are all those carriages rushing off to?," Kothar continued to badger Tam, now eager to discover what this new world held for him.

"Those are the King's loyal guard, they attend to disturbances in the city." Tam began to rub at his forehead, narrowing his eyes at the young boy looking at him with curious eyes.

"Father, who is the king?" Kothar's voice, high as it was, carried to Ophil, who left her chair in her sewing room and walked over to where father and son were seated by the fireplace.

"He is Rotan, the leader of our nation." Tam's voice grew terse.

"Father, where is the king?" Kothar piped up again, Ophil began to smile, looking adoringly at the pair of them.

"Up at the citadel, in the center of the city." Tam sunk his head into his hands, grasping at his skull.

"Father, what is a citadel?" By now Ophil had a full on grin, and was struggling not to laugh at Kothar's antics.

"Ok! Enough! Ophil, I want your brother from the Institute in here tomorrow, to teach this goddamn inquisitive boy. If this keeps on I won't have a hair left on my head. " Tam yelled out, thinking Ophil was still in the next room.

"Of course, dear." Ophil chuckled at Tam, she had suggested the tutor weeks ago, when she had glimpsed Kothar trying to pull down a ledger of transactions that sat on Tam's desk.

Kothar grinned inside, he had heard Ophil persuading Tam, and knew this was the only way to get him a tutor. He had grown accustomed to his new environment, and was eager to learn more about the strange new world he had found himself in.

Soon enough, Ophil's brother, Simon came by the house to teach Kothar, he was much alike Ophil in appearance, except his hair was a shining gold color, and his eyes darted all about the room, as if following an invisible bird trapped inside.

"You know Kothar, you ought to study to become a scholar at the institute. I've never seen a student with a memory like yours, and with your talent for language, you would be a true asset to our work of deciphering ancient texts." Simon gave Kothar his regular spiel about joining the Institute. He was a scholar through and through.

"Uncle, you know I want to become a battle mage, I love to learn, but I want to learn magic." Kothar gave his usual response.

"A mind like yours, wasted on those pricks at the academy. I can see from that stubborn look on your face that I won't be convinving you, shall we get back to the history of the lost civilization of Uhm-Rakesh." Simon tapped on the book between them with a slender finger, brushing away his curled golden locks with his other hand.

"Of course, uncle." Kothar replied obediently.

Ophil watched the two of them with a faint smile on her face, Kothar was everything that they had hoped for. He was curious, attentive and respectful. However, he was ever so serious, rarely smiling, unless he had learnt some new skill or been taught some new tidbit by Simon. Thankfully, he was out of Tam's hair now, her husband now had more time for her and that was never a bad thing. She watched as Kothar read out to Simon from the thick tome, as Simon began to animatedly wave his arms about and tell Kothar of the marvels of Uhm-Rakesh.

As the happy family laughed, a mysterious cloaked figure slouched on the building across the paved road. A swirling black mist surrounded the figure, any passerby who looked up would find their gaze strangely slipping by. The figure peered at the family through a pair of opera glasses with smoky lenses, and muttered to itself as Kothar maneuvered his stocky little frame around the library.