Sorcerer… Cyborg???

Simon stood up from his table by the window as Kothar entered, while he still had his golden curls, his face was now marred by a bright red scar that snaked across his face. It started at his left temple, curving around his left eye, and under his nose, slicing across his mouth. The scar pulled at Simon's upper lip where it crossed it, giving him a permanent smirk.

"Kothar! I didn't think you'd arrive so soon, I only got to Fisher's Point myself this morning!" Simon pulled Kothar into a rough hug, without giving him a chance to respond.

"The Duke was kind enough to lend me one of his ships. It's good to see you, Uncle." Kothar replied, joining Simon at the table, taking in the view of the pier. The water shimmered in the sunlight and fishing points glided across the water, and dark shoals of fish could be seen swimming in the depths.

"Waveskimmer right? SHe's a fine ship, I've had some close calls with her." Simon gave Kothar a cheeky grin, his scarred lip pulling it askew.

"I'd almost forgotten about this thing, I got it in the battle with Phintus." Simon saw Kothar looking at his new scar and quickly explained, tracing the twisting line of the scar over his face.

"It was a short battle, but a fierce one. They knew that a loss would mean the end of their kingdom, so they fought tooth and nail. Well, the soldiers did, at least, at the first sign of defeat all the so called 'grand Merchants' of the Federation hopped into their ships and made off to sea." SImon shook his head in disgust, disappointed at how quickly the leaders of the federation had abandoned their people.

"How's Father? And you? You know, with-'' Kothar said hesitantly, he was at a loss for how to discuss Ophil's death. Even when he had commanded hundreds of thousands of warriors, he had never developed the emotions that he had now, and if he had known the raw gaping wound that a death left on an individual, he would've personally broken the news to every family who lost a man in defense of the Galactic Alliance.

"I'm alright Kothar, and your Mother, well, neither of us expected to live this long, so I'm sure she's happy for the years she got, wherever she is. Your father's an entirely different story though, kid. He's always been a rigid character, but since your mother passed, he's been at a whole new level of seriousness." Simon paused to take a sip of his drink, wincing as the still tender scar was irritated.

"He's managed to whip Rotan into shape, I never thought that man would become a fine ruler, but somehow he's finally gotten the kingdom onto the right track, and the warbands for the nobles, that was a stroke of genius." Simon slapped the table and laughed.

"They're all too worried about keeping their pockets flush and competing with one another, that they won't have time to consider rebelling." Simon chuckled darkly, remembering the battle with Kultas.

Kothar only nodded in assent, distracted in wondering whether Ophil would also be reincarnated, perhaps she would be reborn in the Alliance, in the opposite way that Kothar was.

"Kothar! Come on, snap out of it, I've paid this carriage to wait for 3 days, but if we go now they just may return some of the exorbitant sum I paid them." Simon pulled Kothar to his feet and shepherded him down the stairs of the inn and into the waiting carriage. Simon knew grief, and with that he knew the best he could do for Kothar would be to keep him busy, at least until he had a chance to grieve.

They were on the road for a day and a half, sleeping within the spacious carriage, since they were the only two passengers, there was more than enough room for the both of them to stretch out on one of the full length seats each.

Kothar had a fitful sleep, woken at intervals by strange dreams, visions of strange lands and off beings, all the while feeling a faint resonance from the artifact, but not falling for its wiles again. He had no interest in being suddenly spat out into a strange world without preparation and no idea if he would be cast into a prison for the next few thousand years.

As he lay on the narrow carriage seat, Kothar thought of Trinquile and of Krieg, he had left thinking he would only be gone a short while, slipping away to rescue Simon and returning thereafter, but it had been almost a month now, and surely by now Krieg had noticed his absence. He hoped the old mage didn't think he had lost another student, he had enough grief as it was.

The carriage rolled into Ursten as the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, the sky was filled with wispy clouds that were lit up in vibrant colors thanks to the setting sun. The keep glowed softly in the distance, peeking over the tops of the buildings, and Simon and Kothar disembarked and knocked on the tall wooden doors of his home.

"Yes?" A dour-faced Tam opened the door, and broke into a half smile upon seeing Kothar, pulling him into a massive bear hug.

"My boy, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Tam burst into tears, all the pent-up grief he had bottled up since losing Ophil rushing out, upon seeing the son they sent away under false pretenses.

Simon watched in shock, he had never seen such emotion from Tam in all the years he had known the man, and he began to tear up himself, remembering his sister.

Once his tears had subsided somewhat, Tam led the trio into the courtyard behind the house, and further on to the small garden.

Amongst the floral tapestry that Ophil had created over the years, a grave had been dug, still uncovered.

"Take your time to say goodbye, son, this is how she wanted it to be." Tam pushed Kothar forward slightly, and stepped up next to him beside the grave, Simon joined them.

Within, lay Ophil, eyes closed as if sleeping, a soft smile on her gentle features. She was encased in a massive shard of enchanted ice, clear as glass. She wore one of her own woven, multicolored dresses, woven with intricate patterns and images, Kothar looked at the images that criss-crossed the skirt of the dress, and amongst the many figures that danced all around it, saw two figures that were unmistakably Tam and Ophil, picked out in intricate thread.

The two figures marched around the dress, and halfway down a new figure joined them, starting off as a small indistinct bundle, then clearly growing into the young man that was Kothar.

Seeing how Ophil had painstakingly crafted the dress that she knew she would be buried in, Kothar began to cry.

"Look there, Son, that'll grow into a great tree, she'd been enchanting that seed for years." Tam gestured to Ophil's hands that were clasped together, holding a deep green oval, pointed at one end, a large seed, covered in glowing runes.

"The ice will melt, and the seed will grow into a beautiful tree, and your mother will return to the earth as it grows. Just like her to continue caring for plants even after she's gone." Tam said, his voice hoarse. Kothar and SImon only nodded, unable to speak thanks to the lumps in their throats.

The three men stood amongst the shallow grave, each filled with their own thoughts of Ophil, a mother, a sister and a wife, standing in silent vigil, even as the sun set, and the moon came out from behind the clouds and set the enchanted ice shimmering with an ethereal glow.