Sorcerer… Cyborg???

Kothar lay against the paving stones of the road that crossed past the place he had called home. The cold stone leached the heat from his bare palms as he scrabbled away from the point of Tam's sword.

"Father, why are you doing this?" Kothar pleaded, but Tam gave no response. His face was pale and expressionless, had he donned a hood he would not look unlike the depictions of death himself, with his cheeks sunken and hollow-eyed expression.

Tam strode forward, ignoring Kothar's pleas, and thrust his blade point first at Kothar's chest, stabbing him clean through his torso.

"Huuuarghh!" Kothar awoke in a cold sweat, glancing around wide-eyed, looking for Tam. He took great gasping breaths, and his heart pounded in his chest.

[Kothar!] Silane yelled, just as shaken as Kothar. Neither of them had experienced many dreams before being reborn on Eclat, let alone nightmares. Even of the nightmares Kothar had experienced before, SIlane had always been present to monitor his sleep and wake him safely. But now that the two were so intertwined, Silane also slept, in a sense.

There had been no news from Ursten for the past week, and even Anteris had begun to worry, had his informants all been killed?

As the days without news had dragged on, Kothar's nightmares had started. Visions of Balin alight in dark flames, the bodies of Tam and Ophil hidden under a multitude of others, Rotan, Serena, Boson, Simon and many other familiar faces haunted his dreams.

Not as themselves, but as tragic figures, dying in battle or burning and screaming in an invisible fire.

The first night had been the worst, Kothar had woken up screaming, along with Silane yelling incessantly inside his head. The resulting yells from Kothar, of fear and the sheer pain of SIlane yelling within his head, woke half the guard, and a fair few of them came charging into his rooms.

Since his drunken rant when Kothar had returned from Idwa, the Duke had been withdrawn and silent. He seldom drank, Kothar had found the man staring wistfully to the south at the roof of the mansion one day, shaking with grief.

After that day, Kothar avoided going up to the rooftop gardens without seeing the Duke elsewhere, while the gardens were exquisite, the Duke deserved his privacy.

To the north, in the shining keep of Balin, Rotan and Tam stood in the otherwise empty throne room. The massive chandelier and the myriad lamps were dark, and a long crystal lamp was lit on one side of the room, throwing long shadows across the cousins' faces.

They looked almost sinister, in long cloaks of heavy wool, but were only wrapped so to ward off the evening chill.

"We must lift the blockades around the borders, the nobles are already protesting." Rotan protested, his voice lacking his usual easy going tone, now carrying an undercurrent of tension.

"Rotan. You have been lax for far too long, forget the deaths of their fathers, you need to keep them on a tight leash, or else we'll soon see Ursten falling apart before our very eyes." While Tam usually spoke quite slowly, now it seemed as if each word struggled to escape his lips, his voice was hoarse and rough, and he stared off blankly past Rotan's head.

"I know, but I cannot ask so much of them. Their families gave so much to Ursten. On top of these roaming war bands you're having them keep, you want me to start taxing them more??" Rotan was exasperated, and he shook his hands at Tam in frustration.

"We need battlemages, and for battlemages, we need gold. The treasury is empty, save the treasures. You've spent all the kingdom's gold on easing the people's burden, but unless they share this burden, Ursten will be no more." Tam said with a finality, his hand caressing the hilt of his sword.

"I know. Your counsel has always been true Tam, but I fear that my grip on the throne is already tenuous, what will these nobles think when I ask them to empty their coffers." Rotan sank down onto his throne, leaning his head on hand, as if he could not bear the weight of it.

"Then they will see you as a King, one who demands the kingdom's dues from his subjects, and their warbands will raid further afield and bring back more loot, and grow fiercer with every battle or perish." Tam grimaced as he heard the words as he said them, but he knew that this was what Ursten needed. They had been passive far too long, and had forgotten the fires of war, they had grown so weak that even Kalun, the slimy cowards that they were, dared to invade Ursten.

"You're starting to sound like Kultas, Tam." Rotan said in a sharp, stinging voice.

"I fear he was right. You know as well as I do this war could well have been prevented, good men died to save this kingdom." Tam gave Rotan an icy glare, gripped the hilt of his blade, and almost drew his sword. He caught himself, and returned to caressing the hilt of his sword.

His face softened as he remembered the kind-hearted cousin he had taken on expeditions in his younger days, when he had been building his army as a young Captain.

Sorrow filled Tam as those same memories reminded him of Ophil, who now lay cold and lifeless, in a coffin of pure ice, awaiting the return of her son so that she could be put to rest.

"We'll hold a grand funeral in her honor, in the keep." Rotan said softly, seeing the sadness in Tam's eyes.

"No, you've done enough." Tam choked out, before marching briskly out of the throne room.

Rotan watched as Tam left, and knew at that moment, that there would be no more friendly chats with Tam in the gardens, Simon would no longer drop by with interesting curios and odd scrolls, and worst of all, Ophil would never again be seen, treading amongst the flowerbeds of the castle, the trees swaying to and fro and the flowers all blooming in her wake.