At twenty-five, Redwing was tall and regal in appearance. His hair grew back but not completely and he made a habit of shaving it off. He had his mother's narrow thinly lidded eyes, high cheekbones, and an aquiline nose. Through his prowess in alchemy, he was able to produce material wealth at will and he took to dressing in fine tailored garments. 

When he burst through the door of the lighthouse, Øregård only minorly looked up from the massive book he was engrossed by. 

"Is he in?"

"You know it. He's in the lab."

"Great." 

Redwing stormed up the stairs two at a time in his finely crafted black leather boots. When he reached Melock's lab, his father was also engrossed in a large ancient-looking book. The mirror from his bedroom lay on the table next to the book. He didn't look up when his son came in. 

"I'm done with Luki. I've surpassed all my teachers and there is nothing left in the archive of interest to me."

"Consider this your graduation day then." Melock slipped a sheet of paper into the book he was reading, closed it, and turned his attention to Redwing. "You're looking very well to do."

"Yes, well, I'd like you to tell me about your experiences with the Necromancer; for my graduation present." Redwing pulled up a stool at the end of the lab table. 

Melock tapped the mirror twice and turned it facedown on the table. He exhaled a long slow breath and ran his hand down the length of his Fu Manchu. 

"What would you like to know?"

"You killed him, correct?" 

"To be fair, I accidentally released him from his dimensional prison. Teleportation can be a dangerous and tricky business. I understand you have mastered the site to site ability?"

"Yes, but don't change the subject. How did you defeat such an evil being?" 

"I had help. Øregård, who you know, and Sister Murphy," he paused at saying her name, "and a very peculiar rogue named Sabastian de Martín. Who no doubt you know of as he wrote the Tale of the Necromancer book that you clearly read."

"Indeed. Where are they today?"

The old wizard stood up walked over to his shelves of chemicals and poured himself a bubbling drink. He took a sip then sat back down with a small beaker in hand. 

"They're dead." 

"Killed by the necromancer? 

"Murphy was killed by the dragon, Luhng, some years later and de Martín disappeared among the Elvin people. By age alone, he must be dead some fifty years by now." 

"Was there anyone else?"

"Do you remember the gnome who visited us once? It was when you first came here after your mother died." 

"I thought I imagined him. I assumed he was one of your tricks to amuse me as a child." 

"No, he's real alright. Mr. Grimble is a tinkerer, a builder of mechanical marvels. He created fabulous constructs and took them into battle with us. A fine fellow. He lives off in the western woods."

"And he is still alive, then?"

"Oh, yes, gnomes live a very long time you know?"

"Tell me how you defeated the Necromancer."  Redwing folded his arms; done with the back and forth banter. 

"I'm not much for storytelling as you know but I'll do my best.

"As described in the tale you read, I unknowingly released the Necromancer when I ported into and out of his dimensional cage. It was an unexpected side effect. The former wizard of the Western Kingdom, Luculentus Dicax Sid, informed me of his return and ultimately paid the price for it."

"I've read of him as well." 

"Sid and I go way back. He's who you should be asking about. You see Dicax and I..."

"Stick to the Necromancer, please." Redwing narrowed his eyes at his old man.

"Right, well, the Necromancer killed Sid and hid in the catacombs of the Western Kingdom where he began to raise his undead army again. It was there that we met him and there that he met his end. In answer to how we defeated a wizard so powerful and so evil that he easily murdered Luculentus Dicax; the short answer is Sister John Murphy smashed his skull in with a spiked ball mace.

"The long answer is one of my best friends died along with thousands of citizens of the Western Kingdom, including the King at the time. We traveled there as a war party and fought through his hordes until we cornered him in the dungeons below the palace. He would have beaten us too. We were at a stalemate. Our magical powers wrestled on in a draining impasse. Mr. Grimble's iron golem had been destroyed. Øregård was swarmed by the undead, his body gnawed and slashed to pieces. We had to reattach his arm afterward.

"Sister Murphy as I'm sure you read was a religious warrior, a paladin, a kind of Jon of Arc." The reference, Melock realized, was from another time and place but he used it anyway. 

"She was like a cleric, a crusader for good, a fighter of evil. It was her righteousness that brought down the evil Necromancer. When de Martín snuck up behind him and stabbed him in the back it broke his concentration long enough for her to break free of his binding spell and crush his evil brain once and for all.

"You might say it was a combination of sneaky roguishness and divine justice that brought about the Necromancer's end. I simply distracted him with a magic battle that required all his attention. We defeated him as a team." 

Melock finished his drink, patted Redwing on the arm, and stood up. He grabbed a thick book bound in the hide of a great plains elk and dropped it on the table with a thud. 

"Since you've graduated Luki, it is now time for your master's degree in magic," said Melock as he held his hand out over the book, "brilliant, witty, sarcastic."

The hide-covered book took on a bright glow and flopped open. 

"Sid was all three things and you may never open his spellbook without telling him so."

Redwing leaned in admiring the runes on the opening page and read, "the spellbook of Luculentus Dicax. This was actually his?"

"I pried it from the Necromancer's cold dead hand."

For the first time since Redwing had come to live with Melock over 20 years ago, the boy looked almost happy. And that filled Melock with a contagious joy that also for the first time connected him with his son in a way deeper than genetics. 

"If you are to follow me in a life of wizardry this book is the next stage of your journey." 

"Then you are giving it to me?" 

"It's a loaner. When you've learned the secrets it has to offer, return it. After mastering everything within its pages you'll no longer have a need for it. I keep it as a memento of an old friend. You might call me sentimental." 

Melock glanced over to a small prism on the shelf that held a rainbow inside. Redwing ignored the obvious reference to his mother. 

"How long will this study take?" Redwing asked flipping through the pages of the four-inch-thick volume. 

"Most could spend a lifetime; for you, if you commit yourself, thirty or forty years, maybe less with the right tutor." Melock stood up on his toes for a moment then flopped his body weight back down on his bare feet.

"This makes the library of Luki look like child's play," said Redwing as his eyes darted around the pages filled with scripts, lists, diagrams, and intricately detailed instructions.

"Exactly." 

"May I take it with me if I chose not to study here?" he asked. 

"Of course. I understand if it is too distracting here. The southern tower of the Stone Mountain castle is empty if you'd like to use it?" 

The castle faced the west and the southern tower looked out over the massive mountain range. It would be ideal and its isolation was superb. 

"I could use it as a home base I suppose." 

"At this point, I assume you'll be traveling to gain the experience and items you will be needing."

"Would you let me know if you plan on coming to the castle?" asked Redwing. 

"Of course. Now, I must return to my work. I am always available if you need me." 

Melock flipped the mirror back over and tapped it once, then opened his book. Redwing closed the spellbook, put it under his arm, made to leave but stopped at the head of the stairs, and turned around. 

"Father."

"Yes, my boy." 

"Thank you." 

It was the only time he ever said those words.