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Flaming Summer!	By : Miqael Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 1914 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the book(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Flaming Summer!

A Most Atrocious Parody by Chetwynd
Chapter 1: A Rude Awakening.
Palin Majere was very, very happy. At last Dalamar had agreed to take him on a tour to the Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas, former home of his deceased Uncle Raistlin! His father Caramon, who was not happy in the least —he knew about the squishy things his late brother had produced in his not so sane attempt to create life... Why? It was so easy to do it the usual way... but no, Raistlin had to do things in his own twisted way...— was being a pain in the dark elf’s backside; he didn’t want to see Raistlin’s study, nor his bedroom, nor his bathroom, nor his cupboard full of...
“Palin, don’t go near the lab’s door,” Dalamar was saying with his mouth full of the afternoon snack his apprentices had prepared and served —he was called ‘the elven Enslaver’ among them—. He was so happy that Caramon was silenced at last! “The undead warding it is a nasty one. I tried to persuade him to give me the key, but the damned wraith bit me!”
“All right, Dalamar,” Palin said, his curiosity aroused. His father and his friend Tanis always claimed how remarkably similar he was to his Uncle, and he had of course inherited his snoopy nature. Thus, he left the two men and went directly to the lab’s door. “Hi there, spirit guardian.”
“Ayup, livin’ un. Has tha’ got a fag? Me salary ne’er lasts me through t’month and fags’re expensive, yer know!” the undead replied in its hollow, dead voice.
“No, sorry. I don’t smoke.”
“Pity, but thee does reet, young ‘un. It’ll be t’death o’ me. ‘ere, take this.” It passed him a little piece of parchment.
“‘Invitation to enter Raistlin Majere’s laboratory. Valid only to White Robes-to-be.’ What’s this?”
“What it says. Yer invited to enter t’lab.”
“Wow! And Dalamar said you were nasty!”
“Huh! Nasty un’s ‘im.”
“But he said you bit him.”
“Course I bit ‘im! Soddin’ elf didn’t want to raise me paycheck. C’mon, enter now.” The heavy wooden door opened and the young man, too deep in the claws of his inherited snoopiness, entered the laboratory.
“Hey, who...?” He bumped into the closed door. “It’s so dark here...”
Then come to the light
And a gentle pinkish brightness shone in the distance.
“The lab’s larger than I thought.”
Come to the light
“Okay, if you say so...” The foolish young man walked briskly to the shine and then... there was light, lots of light... pinkish, of course.
Surprise! Five draconian heads howled in delight. You’ve won the prize to the nephew-become-bait game show!
“Oh, my. Why didn’t I inherit my Uncle’s paranoia too?”
*******
In another place of the incorrectly called Abyss, the three god-cousins of Magic were pulling their hairs in anger and frustration.
“How dare she interfere in the Test of one of our own!” Solinari the white screeched.
“Technically, it hadn’t begun yet, but the spirit is there” Lunitari replied a bit calmer than her hysterical fair cousin, after all she knew the young Majere would have finished in the White Robes’ clutches. “And it’s not as if the elders never interfere in our affairs.”
“She’s right, cousin. They nag us constantly, but this is no excuse to let my mother get her way,” Nuitari added vehemently.
“But what could we do? The last time we tried to oppose her she gave us a sound hiding.”
“Bingo!” the neutral goddess exclaimed. “I know what we’ll do! Let’s go to call one of my pals... Here. Hello, Miiro. It’s Luni. Yes, we need your help right now. Yes, the five-headed bitch again... What, you’ve retired?! But, but... Oh, yes, you’ve a replacement... Who! Oh, dear, this is not good... Okay. See you soon. Bye.” She turned off her magical cell phone and regarded her cousins gravely. “All right, boys. I’ve got good news and bad news...”
“The good news first, please?” Solinari whispered.
“The avatar of the Miiro will help us.”
“And the bad news?”
“We’ve to awaken him first.”
They all groaned.
******
Lunitari impatiently kicked the slumbering figure at her feet. “Wake up, you cretin!”
“Fiv minits more, mommy” the ball slurred again. He was having a very nice dream about Revered Daughters and baths.
“No. Come on, wake up!” A nasty boot in his groin did the job.
“Ow! What the...? Ow! That hurt, you bitch!”
“Consider it a lesson for your lasciviousness.”
“Pardon? For the gods’ sake I was dreaming and since when did you become a defender of the purity of thought? It isn’t in your portfolio.”
“Anyway, I achieved my purpose.”
“To maim me?”
“No, silly. To wake you up so that you can be re-hired as Miiro and go to Takhisis’ realm to save your nephew.”
“My nephew? How has he ended up with Takhisis?”
“She tempted him into her realm and then trapped him to lure you. I know he’s a bit dumb, but he was going to take his Test and in the end he’ll become the most powerful mage in Krynn’s history.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know the specifics, it was Solinari’s plan.”
“Of course,” Raistlin drawled. “And you want me to go to... save him from Takhisis? Sorry, but I’m not crazy enough. You know, last time we met, the turd wanted to eat me up and I’m sure she still wants to do so. Nothing could force me to go to find my gruesome end at her mouths.”
“Not even redemption?”
“What? Pah! I don’t want redemption, I want to go back to sleep!”
“Then I think we’ll have to resort to desperate measures!”
********************
Lying on a black stone altar in the depths of Takhisis’ realm, Palin was deadly bored. At first the sight of the dark goddess preparing her pots and pans –she wanted to eat his uncle al dente- had been amusing, but as eternity passed it had lost the novelty and become quite dull.
“He’s taking his time,” the young man commented.
The goddess nodded. “Yes, I’m beginning to wonder if he’ll appear at all.”
“Of course he’ll come!” Palin replied encouragingly. The deity seemed a bit despondent after arranging her utensils for the billionth time and he didn’t want sad people around him. The fact that the arrival of his uncle would be the precursor of his own death didn’t worry him too much. Always look for the bright side, his mother said often to him. So he did: he was going to know his uncle in person albeit for a very short time and he was probably the only mortal ever to witness the wide variety of pots and pans Takhisis had in her abyssal kitchen.
“That cooking advice you gave me is very useful, Palin, but, you know, I’ll have to kill you with this wicked-looking butcher’s knife if Raistlin pokes his nose here.”
He shrugged. “I know. Don’t worry, I’m still a very little bit angry with you for that invitation trick, but I know you cannot help being a schizophrenic egomaniac that only thinks of conquering Krynn and eating my uncle, even if your plans are always thwarted by the most unlikely beings. Thousands of years of frustration do that.”
“Oh, that was sooooo kind,” Takhisis sniffed while she wiped surreptitiously her eyes with a black tea towel. “I’m really tempted to keep you here. I would do with a friendly word now and then. You know, my subjects are all of them a bunch of ungrateful bastards, always complaining about the working conditions, the fees and all that crap. They even dare to complain about the state of my Abyss; they say it’s too pinkish!”
“Well, maybe it’s a bit girlish with all that pink and laces and bows, but don’t mind them.”
“You’re a real sweetie.”
*****************
“That’s foul play!” Raistlin snorted angrily. “A threat to sue me for breach of contract!”
Lunitari waved said contract in her hand, out of his reach, with a mischievous smile. “I’m hearing the lawyers coming this way, my dear, to throw the book at you,” she said in a sing-song voice that grated on his nerves.
“I hate lawyers more than anything in the multiverse! I still have nightmares about the attempt of the Dark Queen to obtain my custody after the Abyss affair.”
The goddess shrugged. “You know, all Krynnish lawyers end up in Takhisis’ realm, so she has the best at her disposal. Uncle Paladine nearly became indebted hiring a decent defendant for your case and had a very hard time finding one that was not at her service.”
“But-but. You cannot force me, you are a divinity of neutrality!” he sputtered. “You believe in free will and all that!”
“Yes, of course, but there are always exceptions and you’re the one.”
“I haven’t my spells or my Staff. I can’t face her disarmed, bereft of my power.”
“I see you have the Blue Star,” she pointed.
“What good will a ring with a randomly shining blue stone do me? I tried to take the useless thing off, but it wouldn’t budge. I even cut my finger off to get rid of it, but the finger re-grew with the damned ring around it!”
“Such is the power of the Greater Balance. You never read the small print at the contract, did you?”
“No,” Raistlin admitted grudgingly.
“And about you being disarmed, behold your new weapon!” Lunitari gestured theatrically towards the two figures, one in white, the other in black, that appeared out of thin air. The dark one was carrying a blue-bound book that he presented sternly to the mage.
“Here, take the ultimate spellbook of Fistandantilus,” Nuitari drawled. “I had it at home, away from your paws, but now the circumstances have changed.”
Raistlin took it avidly and nearly crushed his own feet when he let it fall.
“It’s heavier than it looks,” the dark god said with a false innocent tone and equally false smile.
Muttering curses under his breath, the mortal crouched, opened the cover and began to read. As he read on, his eyes widened gradually and his face took on a reddish tone, then a greenish one.
“I can’t do these spells!” he exclaimed, wild-eyed.
“Why not?” Solinari picked up the book and took a quick look. He blanched. “Nuitari, how do you want him to fight your mother with sex magic?!”
“Oops! Wrong book. Ah, here it is,” he said offering the human a similar looking book which the god took from one of the secret pockets in his robes. “Don’t look at me that way. Am I to blame for what the old goat wrote in his spellbooks? You know, he had twenty-eight levels of the Pervert Sorcerer prestige class...”
“Nui, give up the roleplaying terminology, will you,” his female cousin cut him off brusquely.
“All right, all right,” he mumbled.
“Are these better suited?” Solinari asked Raistlin. The human nodded, ensorcelled by the magic words.
“They will do.”
**********************
If the innumerable defeats she had suffered in earlier times weren’t clue enough to Takhisis’ lack of strategic thought, the sound thrashing she was receiving at Palin’s hands at the game of Khas –a Krynnish game similar to chess- they played while waiting for Raistlin to appear were the unquestionable proof.
“Checkmate!” the young man said, trying to hide a yawn behind his hand. He had tried to let her win several times, but the reckless goddess seemed intent only in “eating” as many pieces as quickly as possible. That is, she was a complete disaster. No wonder she never won any wars...
He heard a polite cough and saw a man wearing slightly out-of-fashion black robes. The young man was amazed at the resemblance between them, even though he was taller, wider, healthier and some more –ers than the man in black.
“Raistlin, at last!” The Queen of Darkness rubbed her hands together in delight. She took the wicked-looking butcher’s knife. “I’m quite hungry, you lazy morsel. Where were you?”
“I was lost. I took a wrong turn and ended in Bytopia.”
“Oh, don’t worry, the path is very badly indicated. My subjects refused to replace the lost signposts after you nearly destroyed them all during your last visit.”
“Hello, Uncle Raistlin. I’d never have imagined you were a vandal.”
“I’m not a vandal, I’m a rebel,” the older man replied with a touch of annoyance. “Come here, Palin. We are out of here in a moment.”
Takhisis laughed evilly and brandished the gleaming weapon wildly. “I think not, my dear Raistlin. I’m going to cook you until you’re done to a turn, then eat you, savouring every little bit, and your nephew is going to help me to do it. Then, he’ll stay here to keep me company until the time for conquest comes again; his advice is very welcome.”
The archmage turned to his nephew, horrified. “You’re going to help her eat me!”
Palin’s brow furrowed deeply. “Of course not, Uncle, I’m not a cannibal and it’d be kind of... I don’t know... incestuous... We are family. She means I’m helping her to cook you.”
“So eating me is incestuous, but cooking me isn’t? You’ve spent too much time with her. I say come here!” Raistlin gestured firmly next to him.
The young man obeyed the harsh words of his elder with a sad expression.
“I’m sorry, Takhisis. I won’t be able to teach you the recipe of Otik’s famous spiced potatoes...”
Unexpectedly, the goddess lunged at the archmage, knife cutting the thick pinkish air. Raistlin raised his hands, moving them in a blurring dance, muttering the words of powerful magic.
Then the world became blue.
When he could see again, he saw his nephew laying on the ground, the wicked knife jutting out his chest. Takhisis was walking around blindly, possibly more affected than the human by the light blast because of her godlike acute senses.
Raistlin knelt down next to the pale corpse of Palin.
“Just my luck. I come to rescue him and he dies in a freak accident! Damn ring!”
“I’m not dead yet, Uncle,” the young man whispered in a feeble voice. “I’ve time enough for the famous last words.”
“Gods, no! Out with them then,” the archmage said resignedly.
“Say to my parents and my brothers and my sisters and the neighbours and my friends at the school and...”
“Yes, yes, I understand. I will say it to everybody, but say it quickly before you die!”
“Ah, say to them that I love them very much and that... that I was not snooping.”
“Snooping? How so?”
Palin ignored his question and continued with his last monologue: “And I love you too, even though my father only loved me because when he looked at me he saw you and droned on and on about how alike we were and that I am what you should have been and even though I don’t know you and you don’t know me and I think you are a bossy-boots and quite rude and a vandal.” Raistlin nearly cut him off, wanting to point out that he wouldn’t have been bossy and rude if the boy hadn’t got into huge trouble, but thought it would be cruel even by his usual standards. “And I want you not to break my father’s heart saying something spiteful, because if you do so I will come back as a ghost and haunt you for the rest of your life.”
His uncle refrained from telling him that commanding undead entities was his speciality.
“Are you already finished?” he said softly. Takhisis was standing near a black altar full of cooking utensils, likely trying to pinpoint his position by the sound of his voice.
“A last advice, Uncle. Go to Lady Crysania. She can help you.”
Sure.
“Something more?”
“No, no,” Palin murmured. Closing his eyes he said: “Thus, I die.” And then he died with a peaceful look that no one with a butcher’s knife poking into his chest —that surely hurt like hell— should have.
The soul of the young Majere hovered a moment over his lifeless body, a sad look on his transparent face, then shrugged, smiled and waved goodbye to his uncle, disappearing into the highs of the Abyss.
“You’ve deprived me of the only kind company I’ve had in a millennia and you’ll pay for it!” Takhisis hissed, becoming instantly the five-headed dragon.
“Gah! I see you’ve not treated your nasty case of bad breath.”
Roaring, the goddess was ready to snap at him, but a new flare of stinging blue light spurted from the stone of the ring and blinded her again.
“Damn!”
*****************
A sudden weight robbed him of breath. So unexpected the attack was that he shrieked as he fought to free himself from the enveloping prison that shrouded him. He heard a loud thud and a giggle.
“Hey, Palin, Mother will sock you one if you tear the sheets,” a childish voice quipped.
Palin?
Forcing himself to calm down, he lifted up the sheets and peeked outside to see a pair of young girls, one sitting on the wooden floor, the other standing, looking at him curiously. He frowned and the girls giggled some more.
“You threw yourself on me!” he accused the sitting one, the youngest. She ignored his withering glare and laughed openly.
“Well, we couldn’t have you sleeping the whole week! I thought the only thing you needed to return to us was a bit of prodding.”
He snorted indignantly, but said nothing.
“Father was right, Dezra. Look, he seems more mature, even if he shrieks like a little girl!” the other smirked.
“Well, at least he doesn’t snore like a dragon anymore.” Both girls went to the door of the small room. “We’re going to tell father you’re awake.”
The girls thought he was Palin! It’d better be some kind of weird dream. Dream or reality, however, it became worse with the arrival of Caramon and his wife Tika, who ran to take her ‘son’ in her arms sobbing hysterically.
“My baby, my baby!”
Raistlin’s eyes widened in horror as he was rocked, petted, patted, caressed by his crying ‘parents’-and pinched by the girls. He was astonished; not even his twin had recognized him, all of them believed firmly he was Palin. Was all the family shortsighted? He knew he was smaller, lighter and less robustly-built than his late nephew, not by much but noticeably so. Nonetheless, none of them saw it.
“What happened?” he asked when things had calmed down a bit.
“Don’t you remember, my son?” Caramon said gently. “Dalamar said that you passed your Test! I was very scared when the spectral guardian told us that you’d gone through the door and into Ra...” He glanced nervously to Tika, then corrected himself: “your uncle’s lab. It wouldn’t let us pass. It even bit Dalamar again when he tried to force an entrance, but some hours later it opened the door and there you were, unconscious on the floor of the lab, with your white robes.” His eyes shone.
White!? How dare them to put me into the white robes!? And my Test my ass! Dalamar has become a master at sorting out shoddingly his blunders.
“I wasn’t snooping” was all he said absently.
“Of course you weren’t, my boy,” his twin replied, patting his hand as if he didn’t believe him at all. “When you’re recovered, you’ll have to go to Wayreth for some ceremony or other.”
Like hell I’m going to that old crocks’ haunt.
A long last later, Tika and the girls went out of the room, leaving the two men alone. As soon as the door closed, Caramon crushed him in a bear hug. When the younger man had nearly passed out through suffocation, he loosened the iron snare around his chest, but didn’t let him go.
“Dalamar told me about the black hemline... I didn’t want to worry your mother. I know that you were tempted and nearly fell, but you didn’t. I’m very proud.”
“Um...”
“Say, my son, did you see him? Caramon asked him in a conspiratorial tone.
“Who?”
“Raistlin!” Said mage was becoming increasingly nervous as his twin’s hand caressed his cheek in a tender way. The eyes of the warrior were unfocused, far away.
“Er... No, I didn’t see him. Why should I? He’s dead.”
The great warrior grabbed his shoulder so hard it was painful and shook him violently. “Never say that! You know that’s not true. He lives in you!” His teeth rattling, Raistlin feared that he had been discovered. Caramon was very angry at him, but, unexpectedly, hugged him again stroking his long hair. “I’ve told you that I wanted you to have his name, but your mother wouldn’t allow it. It makes no difference to me what name you bear, I know the truth; I’ve always known you’d come back to me...”
So Palin was right; Caramon loved his son because he bore an uncanny resemblance to his twin. He felt a wave of sadness and empathy for the deceased youth, and a bit of guilt too. He was the reason his nephew had been lured into the Abyss by Takhisis and then killed, and also the reason he wasn’t loved by his father as he should be. Then, he decided he should honour Palin’s memory the best way he could: by passing himself off as him and doing great things.
What’s more, Tika hated his guts and wouldn’t hesitate to beat him to death with one of her iron skillets the moment she knew the truth, and Caramon... He shuddered when he thought how his twin would react if he knew...
Yes, better living as Palin than dying indignantly as Raistlin.
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Flaming Summer!