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The Blue Star	By : sinaline Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 1900 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 9
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Chapter Eight

The desert was still infernally hot, but now at least that heat was bearable, and the ride swifter and a bit more comfortable on the back of an animal he was familiar with. The tall, fast, black stallion was faster that any other horse that Raistlin had ever ridden in his life and the ride by far the smoothest. During the ride on this last day as he could see the shimmer of the sea. The heat not being quite as bad might also have had something to do with that.
He also remembered the incredible good bye from the desert nomads and from Jafir.

"I feel I should still thank you for your hospitality," began Raistlin, dressed in the sand colored robes that he would wear probably until the Icewall Glacier was found.
Jafir shrugged it off, "You ended a curse that had plagued us for nearly ten of the longest years we have ever experienced, one that nearly bankrupted me and also likely ended the freedom of the Ten Tribes. We are even, and I hope even perhaps friends."
In a rare show of amicably, mostly because these people had treated him well and also treated him as an equal that would not break if coddled. Raistlin had felt, for the first time in his life, that he could breathe and, except for Jafir's daughter that had been given him as wife, even had a measure of privacy and solitude. Xahira, as Raistlin had learned was her name, would live as a widow and a free woman in her tribe after he left.
But now Jafir was showing him to the tents of the horsemen. Finally, Jafir called to the most incredible horse that Raistlin had ever laid eyes on, not to mention the biggest, and the horse cantered over. He wasn't an expert with horses, but he could easily see from the grace and unforced pick up that the proud horse had spirit and probably no shortage of speed. "My wife and I have discussed it, and feel that Darkmist is most suited to your needs. He is the fastest of our stud horses and I look forward to seeing him perform under you," Jafir said then. "Would you do us the honor of riding him in your quest?"
Raistlin whistled in appreciation, noticing Jafir's smile broaden. "It would be my honor, Jafir. He's a beautiful horse, truly splendid," breathed Raistlin as the horse nosed Jafir's hand.
Jafir gave Darkmist a gentle nudge and Raistlin held out a hand, palm and fingers stretched flat, so that the horse would get acquainted with him. After a snuffling sound, Darkmist nudged Raistlin in the shoulder and Jafir said, "He likes you. I picked well. Darkmist is yours, my friend."
Finally, after the day had waned, Raistlin had returned to the tent that he shared with Xahira. "My father gave you out of the best of our herd."
"I can see that, even with my untrained eyes," he answered. "I still can't get over all of this. I did not do much. All I did was escape Wellint..."
"Then led my father and his men into the lair of the beast, armed with the knowledge of its weak spot. You could have walked away, and no one would have blamed you," she said. "You could have walked away after telling my father of the weak spot, and we would have thanked you for the information and the generosity in giving it freely. But you stayed and fought at our side for a cause that was not even yours, even after an apparent betrayal. For that we owe you. These gifts are our way of doing so."
"You didn't have to give all of this and put yourselves short on my account..."
She shrugged it off, "One horse, even the finest, a mere daughter, some robes and some supplies is not 'putting ourselves short', as you put it. Darkmist has been our stud for many years and he has sired all the best of our herd. His son is as fine as he is, so we have not lost a stud stallion that could not be replaced. You are leaving me behind, from what you say, so soon I shall be a widow for none have returned from where you are going, and travel robes and supplies are easily replaced. Do not worry yourself about it, husband. We shall do fine after you leave, and do better than what we were before. Stay one more night and perhaps... perhaps I shall have a son whom I will call by your name."
For a moment Raistlin smiled slightly at the thought, but said, "Even if we were to lay together all night, there is no guarantee that I would give you a son."
"My mother thinks otherwise, and a woman knows these things," she said, a faint 'tsk-tsk' in her voice, and Raistlin smiled slightly again, looking down and shaking his head in disbelief. She smiled back, touching his chin as she did so, "You know you never had a chance between my mother and I. Had she not been married to my father, she would have taken you herself. Magic is a valued commodity among my people, and those who wield it are accorded a great amount of respect."
With a sigh, Raistlin said, "If I didn't think my brother would track me down, and if I did not have to leave to fulfill my duties, I would be tempted to stay here. Magic, where I come from, is more feared than respected. I have had to run before to avoid being burned at the stake, or worse."
"Here, such a thing would be sacrilegious," she said with a slight shudder. "For the Gods and the Ancestors show themselves in the magic and lend it power. The Prophet often grants powerful spells to those worthy, and those with skill."
"A place that reveres and respects magic, a place where my cough hasn't bothered me for month and for once I'm not freezing to death from the damp and cold..." he murmured, suddenly wishing he did not have to leave. "And a woman that puts things in perspective and also has an understanding of magic... oh Gods... what a carrot you have dangled before me..."
She crinkled her brows, "Carrot? What is 'carrot'?"
At this, Raistlin did laugh. Not his usual mocking and sharp laughter, but a true laugh as he laid a hand on her shoulder, "Xahira... oh, never mind. It is a vegetable from where I am from. To get donkeys to do something, one would often tie a carrot to the end of a long branch and dangle it in front of their noses."
Her eyes lit up, showing how much of a horseman's daughter she was, in sudden understanding. "And the donkey would endeavor to always grasp for what is out of reach and start walking in the direction of the carrot. You feel that our camp is this 'carrot'?"
"I feel that the entire place is the carrot, Xahira," answered Raistlin, sitting in front of the tent just on the tent cloth with his knees drawn up to almost his chin and his long arms wrapped around them. "For the first time in my life I have found a place where, physically, I don't have to worry about illness too much because I am never damp and cold. Oh, it gets cold all right, but it's a dry place so it's not so bad. The dryness also keeps my lungs clear. So I am not as sick as I usually am. Then, everyone truly respects me for who I am and for what I have done, not for my twin brother. There are no side glances of suspicion that are afraid that because I am wizard that I am going to go on a sudden killing spree with my magic or summon a demon. Then, there is you. You simply accepted me, forced marriage or not. Women... don't do that where I come from."
She sat beside him and put an arm around his shoulders, "Then stay. Come back after you complete your mission. The others do not believe that you will and so plan for your eventual funeral after three months of you leaving us. However, with what I have seen and heard, I believe in you. If you wish it, you will come back to me, and to us. My father would welcome you into our Tribe and you would be a Prince among us. Come back to those who love you for you... not because of someone else."
"You have no idea how sorely tempted I am to do just that..." he murmured as they watched the sun set.

And so he rode out the next day, knowing as well as she did that the good bye said was likely to be the last that they ever would see of each other. It was for the best... but even still... there was something that would have wished he could have stayed, or in the least, after this was all finished one way or the other, to return.
But he knew that his brother would eventually track him down, and the bumbling idiot would not leave without him. Caramon would never be happy there and would yearn to return North to Solace where the culture was not so strange and exotic.
Not to mention that the women would not be so shamed if he took their 'innocence' before they were married.
Darkmist and Raistlin reached the sea and the glacier after four days of riding through the desert.

The two companions, Tanis and Caramon, arrived in Solace as the snows had begun yet again. Caramon, thin lipped, turned to Tanis and said, "He's been gone for a year and a half."
Tanis looked down at the ground, then reached over and gave Caramon's shoulder a shake, "Even if you don't see him soon, remember that if he is able, he will hold to the promise to meet us again in... three and a half years."
Caramon remembered the promise that the companions had made to meet again after splitting to meet again in five years in the Inn of the Last Home and smiled wanly, "If he is able..."
"And he should be able. Imagine what he will have to tell us, what he will have learned," said Tanis. "Come on, Caramon, how old are you two? He was twenty one when he took the Test, so, that would make you what, twenty two... right?"
Caramon nodded in affirmation. "Twenty-two... soon to be twenty three."
"Most human men are married and with children by now," said Tanis. "You may be twins, but still merely brothers. You both have separate paths to walk, separate lives to live. You're not boys anymore, you're men. Abyss, Caramon, you say he took the Test and passed, he's a full fledged wizard now, acknowledged by his peers as such. What does magic have to do with swords, or even whatever else you can do on your own? Let him come to you for once in your lives!"
Tanis watched as the familiar stubborn edge to Caramon's jaw set the minute anyone treaded into that territory, and again he shook Caramon as if to shake the sense of what he was saying into the human man, "Caramon Majere, you cannot live his life for him, and he cannot live your life for you. What worked when you were boys will no longer work now that you are men. Raistlin can take care of himself now, you have seen him do so. Hell, it's time he found a woman to do it for him. He's at that age too now, like you. It's time to cut the umbilical cord, Caramon."
For a moment, Tanis was afraid he had gone to far, then Caramon broke into a wide grin, "I may not agree with it right now, but I could come to... even to see Raistlin married or something. Abyss, I have to agree with you on that count. He needs to get laid more often."
"Has he ever?" asked Tanis, mentally slapping himself for even asking. Raistlin Majere's love life, or lack thereof, definitely was not his business.
Caramon shrugged, "I honestly don't know. He might have, but he's so intensely private that even if he did he's not the type to 'kiss and tell'."
"That's one thing in his favor," said Tanis. "Women like men who know when to keep their silence."
"... Not to mention that I think Raistlin is a bit more 'traditional' than anyone else in my family," said Caramon. "I think he may, and I stress may only because he's chided me for it before, be the type to believe that, um, certain activities only belong in wedlock."
Tanis had to blink at that thought, then laugh shakily, "Oh, that's ironic."
An awkward silence ensued until broken by Caramon's quiet, "Can we change the subject?"
"Oh yes please, let's," agreed Tanis wholeheartedly. "We're starting to sound like a couple of old gossips."
"Speaking of which, have you heard that Otik had some problems over the Spring...?"

Raistlin huddled into his robes, which he had to change to after the desert sands had started to become increasingly colder. He also noticed that the sand beneath Darkmist's hooves was also beginning to give way more and more to rock and scrub land. Finally, he even had to add to his layers the desert wear and his heavy cloak.
He followed the coast line around, sensing that he was getting close as more and more he could even see the brilliant and shining blue that he sought. He was amazed at Darkmist's ability to keep up with his fervor.
Finally the sands ended.
And then the ice and snow began.
He stopped to look in wonder at the glass like ice as it shone in the sun. He wrapped the head gear around his face to keep the air from freezing out his lungs. Even in the coldest Solace winters could not compare to the biting frost that threatened to suck out the life in his lungs. What still surprised him was the dryness that pervaded everything. He sighed as he set up his camp.
Knowing that the wind would kill, he built up the ice into a wall and sealed it with snow. A small memory of building snow forts with his brother, or at least, telling Caramon how to do it while the larger and healthier twin did all the labor, forced itself upon him. With almost a smile on his lips but unseen by all the fabric wrapped around his head, he built his outer wall, then he used a cantrip to seal the final part by building a roof over his and Darkmist head. Crawling outside he continued to build the vaguely egg shaped dome until it would not collapse by soundness of structure versus having to use magic to keep it up. He crawled back in and then, using the lichen he had found, magically lit the fire while building up a small wall of snow to 'close the door' of his snow tent without locking away precious air and suffocating them.
In a few minutes, the fire warmed the space sufficiently for Raistlin to strip off the extra layers and make them into a passable bed. He dressed down Darkmist, brushing the sweat from the horse, then used a blanket draped it over the tall horse's back. Darkmist snuffled in appreciation and nuzzled Raistlin's hand as he fed the horse what little he could find. "I would turn you loose, but the cold would kill you, even if you found food. One can only hope that there is a so-called barbarian tribe with some knowledge of horses other than for food," he said to the horse. "You're nothing like Avanti, but I can tell like him, you are no ordinary horse. In fact, if I didn't know better, I would say that you were sired by him."
Darkmist snorted at this. "My thoughts exactly," answered Raistlin with a small laugh.

The next morning, Raistlin wrapped himself in the layers again, and took the blanket off of Darkmist and put the saddle and bridle back on him. He sighed, "Maybe today, we find someplace for you to board until I come back for you."
He mounted the horse and continued on. After awhile of looking for the lichens and other things to use as firewood, he eventually dismounted and led Darkmist, using him to carry the extra supplies, using the blanket to keep everything from digging into his hide. He was amazed at how well the desert horse held up in the extreme cold. This only reinforced his belief that perhaps Darkmist's bloodline was not totally mortal.
Finally they came to an encampment that was made of similar ice buildings and low to the ground wooden structures well sealed against the killing winds. As he drew closer, he saw that the people came out to greet him. As he got closer it was less a greeting party than a wary but nonaggressive war party. Hands still on Darkmist's tethers, Raistlin held up his hands in a non threatening gesture, "I mean no harm!"
"That remains to be seen, Wanderer," said the lead ice barbarian. :Who are you and where are you going?"
"My name is Raistlin Majere, Guardian of the Blue Star," he answered. "I seek a lost item."
The lead barbarian leapt from his horse, "Lord Miiro, we had given up hope. You must see the Elder."
Well, at least he knew he was getting close...

Marion Uth Maleste reined in Avanti when he suddenly reared. "What is it?" she asked.
Your successor gets closer to his goal.
"That's a good thing isn't it?" she asked. "That's what I picked him for."
One can only hope that he passes this last Test, my old friend...

Raistlin sat in the long house while drinking his tea, grateful for a moment without the biting cold wind, and also for not having to sit in a house of snow. The Elder did not speak Common, and his speech had to be translated into Common for Raistlin who did not speak the Ice People language. The lead warrior listened to the elder for a moment, then said, "He said, 'I saw your coming from over the snows and beyond the sands, where trees still grow taller than men. I know who sent you, and why. The Great Shifting Ice gave me this vision, as well as one of what final Test you must pass to reach your goal'."
Setting his clay cup down, Raistlin asked, "Test?"
"'The one all of your brethren have strived to pass before being bestowed the Blue Star, or if by some miracle they possess it already, to prove they are worthy of its blessing and burden. You will be faced with a question of your conviction and how well you understand this'," said the Elder translated through the warrior. "'We can help you, for I have seen an unforseen complication in matters. A wrinkle in your Test, one not meant to be there. Plainly I tell you this, Reylanna was not jesting about 'death on wings of ice', Guardian. You face one of the oldest and deadliest creations seen on the face of Krynn. This death on wings of ice is a white dragon'."
For a moment Raistlin was without comment, and he swallowed. In all his early life, although hearing of the dragons, thought them mere legend meant to scare children. Then, when later educated otherwise, he had never really expected to come face to face with this ancient creature. With a dry mouth he asked, quietly, "Do you know how old the dragon is, how large?"
The warrior took a moment to translate, then the Elder nodded, sadly shook his head in answer, and answered. The warrior paled, but translated, "'Sadly, I do not know that. I only know that it was a big dragon when it took Icewall Castle, and remains a large dragon now. Now we cannot get to our holy site, and our people go missing. The Blue Star is there in Icewall Castle'."
Raistlin looked to the South, as if seeing the item over the distance even though he could see it literally. Then he turned to the Elder, "I ask one favor in return of a favor."
The Elder indicated his acceptance, and Raistlin said, "I need Darkmist to be boarded until I return. I will need him to get back off the glacier, and out of the desert... and back home. But I know that if I try to drag him with me that he will die, and because I won't have him I will also. I foraged as much as I could for him, but I have my limits."
"'I can promise you four months. After that, because of how much he will eat, I will have to turn him loose. After that, if he is smart, he will head back North to where the scrubland grows. However, I cannot promise that the others will not hunt him for food. Meat is scarce due to the dragon, but as you ask it, I shall only promise that'," answered the Elder.
"I can accept that," said Raistlin, knowing that Darkmist was smart and would head for the scrubland and at least survive.

Raistlin took two days and nights to renew his energy and study his spells. He sharpened the curved blade, practicing the katas while he was at it. The sword was light and quick, and although he didn't fully understand it, it seemed slightly quicker, slightly lighter, and sharper, the edge keen as it ignored hardened ice and sliced through the practice blocks like a hot knife through butter.
He polished it, even though he knew through experience with Caramon that the high polish
meant that he was a mere novice at using the blade. But... there was something about the katana that belied that. Something that said letting it get nicked and damaged, and mistreating it, was almost sacrilege to the blade. The runes carved into the blade were even a purer sun gold.
After he polished and sharpened the sword he checked the rest of his equipment. This time he wore a thick leather that was colored white and blue so that he would mix into the landscape. It seemed to be the third change in clothing and he looked at his red robes with a bit of guilt.
If he was to never wear them, what was the point of even taking the Test of High Sorcery? He allowed himself a brief moment of frustration.
He was 'meant' to do this? By who? Another God that was bent on jerking him around like a puppet? He sneered as pulled out his robes and refolded them carefully, onto to put them back in the pack with his spell book and other supplies. Finally he walked out, patted Darkmist on the nose before leaving the camp, heading South to the tall mountain of ice that could be seen in the distance.

A/N: The katana, for those of you who play lots of Role-Playing Games, is what is called a Soul Blade. What's a Soul Blade? A Soul Blade is a weapon that learns abilities and magic. When Raistlin first looked at it, it was a masterworked katana (which, unless a really cheap mass-produced one, all are...) with runes on it. Those runes are what make the Soul Blade learn abilities from use. Raistlin isn't hallucinating that it's getting easier to use or has a keener edge: it does. Now it has some magical abilities, and will gain more as he uses it as he's a wizard. It has the potential to learn some of his spells. Considering he's about to go up against a white dragon, it could also learn some nifty tricks to kill dragons....
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The Blue Star