13th of Ashan, Arc 719
It was the trial of his birth. His thirtieth arc on Idalos, to be precise; a signifier of... something. Prestige, in some ways, to have survived such a turbulent life for so long. Of course, as with all things of late - since coming together with Zarik, really - Alistair was eminently happy, or at least externally. Though he had begun to wonder, really, how everything would play out. Ashan thirteen was more than just a celebration for him; it had always been a moment of reflection. He looked back upon the arc and fiddled with the details, always present in his mind; he wondered where he'd gone wrong, what he'd done well, and what the tidings of the arc might be. In this particular story, the tale of the last arc, everything had become devoured by Zarik and the fateful meeting that the old and the new - trying to come together and live in peace - would soon have. And Kleine, and Daniel... they were a part of the old, just like Fridgar. To be one of the ones who stuck around was no diminishing thing; Alistair chose his friends and companions carefully, and he loved them all dearly. But for as much as their friendly advice had saved him from pain or arcs of further displacement, they were a scrutinizing and harrowing crew, particularly when it came to the man's one great weakness in life: romance. The pull of others. Love. Alistair had a weakness prevalent among many boys, and men, but few his age. He often mistook his reproductive organ for his soul, and transposed their emotions between one another. In this case, there was no confusion and never had been. He'd chosen the man who would rule beside him, who would conjoin with his soul, mother his children...
But they didn't know that. In fact, they didn't know anything about Zarik. They knew, by now, that he was a Venora... and that Alistair proclaimed to love him. And that he'd taken an inordinate amount of the magister's time of late, with few trials spent productively since they'd first met for that interrogation. Of course. The gravity of the infatuation would only further divide them from his own perspective, and the approval of Kleine and Daniel both meant something very important for Zarik: the ability to live comfortably in Alistair's home. The ability to seek out help in others, to truly feel as part of one family. Fridgar was coming soon. If they treated him well, and not Zarik, then...
Of course, all of these things were on his mind. An endless encirclement of thoughts that he did not know how to properly manage, with solutions that seemed unavailable. And that was what he awoke to. Before long, though, he gathered his things like he always did - into his Domain Bag, and he got himself dressed. The mage eagerly began to say his goodbyes to the Island, for as much solace as it had given them both, beginning to miss his home... his business, his son. Alistair and his thralls cleaned the cabin out thoroughly, ensuring it looked much as when they'd first laid their eyes upon it, if not better without dust and cobwebs in the darker corners.
With everything restored to its prior position, and the mage and his Revenants had succeeded in tidying up, Alistair called upon Zarik and asked for him to come out of the cabin and into the forest clearing that it sat within. From there, he advised him on the sensibilities of Kleine, and Daniel; that Kleine was a loyal friend but with a fiercely protective nature over his flock, as all Lotharro truly were; that Daniel was a man with a friendly nature but one that often offended others.
He did not warn him of particular conversations to avoid, or things to say or not to say, however... as everything would come out eventually. They would all have to learn to live with one another, their full hearts and minds splayed out. Or so he wished it to be.
When everything was settled, Alistair opened a portal before them, took Zarik's hand and stepped through. They would be displaced quite rapidly, stepping through miles in an instant, and appearing once again within the foyer of the Ashvane Estate. Alistair's thralls followed them through, and immediately returned to their labor, the estate's sanitation poorly managed without their keen eyes. The Kingfisher would need to be transported back upon his ship, or - he thought - it could reside on the Island in wait. He could still compel it, even from this far away.
Whether or not either of them were prepared, it did not take long for others within the estate to hear the loud rippling boom that was the intrusion of his portal; it reverberated the air around it, causing for the young Asher in his crib to begin to cry. Alistair could hear it well, despite the distance. His hearing of late had become well attuned, even among long stretches and closed rooms. Kleine attended to him quickly, and the mage heard that too. He spoke of bringing him to 'daddy', to make him calm, even though it was his father's return that had sent him into tears in the first place.
The young Lotharro held the baby in his arms, and peered at the two men beside one another from the top of the wooden steps, staring down below as he rocked the baby in his arms. Asher's crying slowed, and then began to cease altogether. It appeared Alistair was not even needed.
"Hello," said Kleine. "I take it you're Zarik? Welcome. What surname did you take? Venora, var Radomir, or Calder? The master of this house keeps many. I cannot always be sure as to which one he wears."
