Author's Notes: The mage is already decided, and I doubt many people will be surprised as to their identity. Every NPC from the game is to make an appearance, either in the main story or in the 'director's cut' (quests and chapters that would have disrupted the story's flow had I fit them in their chronological place. There'll be a time jump soon, and that's where most of the big side quests will take place. I'll allude to them, but they'll only get written as a part of my fluffy, if TD-canon, side-project).

I cannot believe I did not consider the full implications Aerie would have on the party! I'd only thought about her from the perspective of the Anomen-Imoen-Haer'Dalis triangle, without even considering the fact that she's another romance option. Bad Slide! So yes, one way or another, Aerie will make a temporary appearance, and her eventual leaving shall herald somebody's departure *cue ominous music*. And we'll all get to enjoy the Anomen-Imoen-Haer'Dalis-Aerie-Harrian-Jaheira mess! You see how I can't write Minsc well? :-S

Chapter 87: Relatives' Reunion

Cor Delryn raised his head from where he lay sprawled on the small cot in the corner of his cell in the Athkatlan gaol as the large, solid, metal door swung creakily open. His gaoler, a portly and surly man, stepped in, grunted a word which could have been 'visitor' at him, then strode back out to allow a tentative Anomen to enter, joined by a small girl with vividly disturbing pink hair.

Cor attempted something of a snigger at the sight of his son, but it came out as little more than a sneer and a cough. He sat up slowly, folding his arms across his chest. "What's the matter, son? Have all of your worldly illusions of me been utterly shattered?" he demanded imperiously, raising an eyebrow.

Imoen was suddenly struck by the physical similarities between the two men. Whilst Cor was a good foot shorter than his son, clean-shaven, balding and with a slight paunch, the same jaw-line was there, the same hard blue-green eyes. It was as if she was looking at Anomen in thirty years' time.

The cleric snorted haughtily, but he was still shaken anew by the sight of his father in prison. "I had thought that you could no longer do anything that could disillusion me any more, father. It seems I was wrong. The shards have been broken into even smaller pieces by the depths to which you have sunk." He took a deep, faltering breath as he broke eye contact with Cor, and Imoen watched silently from the door as he clenched a trembling fist. "How could you do it, father? How could you arrange for your own daughters death? And… why?"

Cor stood suddenly, and in that moment he seemed to tower over Anomen, even though his physical presence was considerably inferior to his son's. The younger Delryn actually took a step back, and for one of the first times Imoen saw him seeming somehow cowed.

"Why do you believe, son?" Cor responded sharply, evidently devoid of regret, even now, in his lowest hour. "Saerk was to take the blame for her death! The authorities were to see it as his murder of her, and he was to be imprisoned! I would have been able to return to the business, powerful again."

Anomen looked utterly aghast, his face an expression of shock and disbelief. "For your business?" he gasped numbly. "You sacrificed Moira to hurt Saerk?" His voice trailed off, and his expression faded as realisation slowly dawned. "And when the authorities would not condemn Saerk, you tried to get me to murder him! You were willing to damn both of your children for this?"

Anger had finally crept into his voice, and Anomen's hand, clenched into a fist by his side, started to twitch dangerously. "And you still deign to call yourself my father? You who are nothing more than a dog of a man, not even fit to live?"

"I am your father," Cor responded, now venomous and petty in his absolute defeat. "Never forget that, boy! If I am a dog, then you are every bit as much of a dog as me! Do not presume to lord over me, for you forget that we Delryns are one and the same. Some day, you shall look back and understand what I have done, and why I did it!"

Anomen shook his head firmly, fury still bubbling below the surface yet somehow under a small degree of control. "I believe you disowned me, father. And whilst that shall not stand, legally, I acknowledge your distancing from me. I shall take the material things you have left me, father, and do my best to bring some honour back to the family name. But I do not recognise you as anything more than a murderer."

"Honour," Cor repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth as if trying to get the feel for it. "Honour? You, who have turned your back on everything in your life are speaking to me of honour?" He laughed hollowly. "Yes, I know how you abandoned your precious Order on a mere whim, and are now nothing to anybody in this city. Very well. Take your 'honour', and do as you wish with it. We shall see how this turns out."

Anomen straightened up solemnly. "Good bye, Cor. I pray only that the courts hang you and the Gods condemn you to the Abyss," he spat venomously, before turning on his heel and marching out, all but ignoring Imoen.

Cor laughed as his son disappeared, but without Anomen before him, the façade was a little weak. He looked at Imoen, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. "And what do you want?" he asked, bitterly yet wearily. "To carry his tune and list my sins one by one?"

Imoen shook her head, her expression emotionless. "He's nothing like you, you know," she whispered firmly. "And don't assume he is. He's already turned away from the path you followed. Oh, he could have been you, had the scenarios been different, but he's already saved himself from that fate." She looked away, and turned to go. "The only good thing about this is that he's forever out of your shadow. Now you'll see just what this son of yours can do."

Cor shook his head solemnly as he sat down on the cot in his prison cell. "What is it to you what a son of Delryn can achieve?" he asked, his voice ringing of mere inquisitiveness, but it was a simple query that was enough to send Imoen striding out quickly, closing the door firmly behind her.

* *

Anomen had marched blindly straight away from the gaol, storming through the gardens of the Government District in little more than a dazed fury. He could see his house – his house, his house, not his father's – just in the distance, but had no desire to go there today. That was a task which could wait for another day.

He came to a halt at the fountain in the middle of the gardens, and stared into its surprisingly clear waters. He had often roamed these gardens in his youth when he wasn't studying, or, later, working for the Order. Usually with Moira…

Anomen closed his eyes tightly as he sat slowly at the side of the fountain, trying to repress the memories that assaulted him. Not dark memories of his father's tyranny, no, something even worse. The happy recollections of time spent with his sister, blissful times that could never be recaptured…

"Heya."

The cleric almost jumped as Imoen lightly sat herself next to him. He had not requested her company on this visit, had not even wanted it, but he found himself unable to turn her away. And at the same time… he didn't want her to leave him right then.

"My lady," he murmured miserably. "I am sorry you had to witness that… my father and I have always had something of a… trying past, but for it to be displayed so brutally before you… I offer you my apologies." Despite his vaguely eloquent, if hesitant words, his voice still sounded numb.

Imoen ignored his smooth monologue, and simply reached out to clasp his hand. Whilst she knew she would do better to hold him at arms length, to keep him away until she figured out just what she was going to do with herself and she had received his judgement on just what she was, she couldn't stop herself from offering the obviously needed comfort. "It's no problem, your lordship," she offered lightly.

He smiled thinly, finally looking up at her, hope shining through his despair. "I suppose I am now the new Lord Delryn. Odd. The title never… never was considered in all my plans for the future." Anomen looked down again hesitantly. "Though I suppose my plans for the future have turned to ashes now."

"Because you don't have the Order, you have absolutely nothing?" Imoen scoffed lightly. "You're saying there's nothing in your life now that you're not running along with those stuffed-shirts, those ponces?"

He laughed humourlessly at her description, quite unable to help himself. "I have had nothing else to aspire to in my life," he confessed. "And now… what do I have? I can roam the lands with Harrian on his quest, but other than an adventurer's life… what do I have?"

Imoen rolled her eyes, then raised a hand to the side of his face gently. He started at her delicate touch, but didn't resist as she turned his head to force him to focus on the Delryn Estate, lying not a hundred metres away. "What's that? Your home. Your estate. Something for you to focus on in life." She withdrew her hand, then poked him in the chest. "What's that on your tunic? That eye I see? Helm's symbol, perhaps?" She sighed at his bemused expression. "You have a living, you have a faith, you have a home. Where you go from there is your own choice."

Anomen remained silent for a long while as he stared at her, the words probably bouncing around inside his head. Finally, a wry smile played across his lips. "Firstly, I may stop deluding myself in calling myself a knight," he muttered under his breath. "But I must ask – are you my conscience incarnate, or have you appeared to help me develop such an elusive thing?"

Imoen laughed lightly, though she felt her stomach lurch at his words. Can't get close, can't get close… She patted him on the shoulder in a rather restrained way. "I'm just helping you think straight, Anomen. We all need someone to give us a hand with that one sometimes."