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Alvorecer	By : Skullbearer Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 1612 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
- 10
Okay, I knew I said Alvorecer was finished, but... I lied, okay? Everybody lies, as they say in my new fandom. There were some things I still needed to tie up, and a scene I really wanted to add, so here it is, the epliogue to Alvorecer. Not beta-ed, because there's not much to beta.

Alvorecer
Epilogue
A pill to make you dumb,
A pill to make you numb,
A pill to make you anybody else.
Marilyn Manson, Coma White
/He'd known when Fistandantilus had seen Dalamar again, he'd felt the lich's rage. His own anger had echoed it, that he could have laid eyes on Dalamar and not seen him, that Fistandantilus would still try and kill him. And then something strange had happened. He could feel the lich's anger, but more than that, if he focused, he could sense the creature's... Raistlin couldn't call them emotions, but feelings, dead relics of emotions. Anger and hunger and greed. And it was very easy to turn his attention from anger to hunger- hunger for power, for magic- and... push.
There was no other way to describe the motion, pressing that emotion into the forefront of the lich's mind. The creature's attention jumped to it like lightning to iron and Raistlin snapped back to the depths of his mind before he could notice him. Fistandantilus' thoughts played on the emotions, then turned, abandoning his hunt for Dalamar for what had become of more pressing importance.
Raistlin didn't know what he had started, or where Fistandantilus wanted to go. But he did know he had managed to draw the lich's attention away from Dalamar, which had been bent on the elf's destruction.
And he had discovered something else. He had power. Was this the power Fistandantilus had, in those years when he'd been the one trapped, only able to manipulate thoughts?
It was all Raistlin could do not to act now, to lash out with the only weapon he had left. The temptation was overwhelming. But there was nothing he could do, he didn't have the power to break the lich's control. He would have to wait.
To wait. To wait with this monster ruling his mind, control his every move, while he was a prisoner. That was agony.
But he would have to. There was nothing else. He had no more than the faintest sense of the outside world, only the faintest hints would filter through, and no sense of time. He'd felt the vague echo of dragonfear, and the flicker of spellcasting where once there'd been a burn, then the cold, overwhelming cold that eclipsed even Fistandantilus', but had no sense of time, of how long had passed between one and the other.
And he watched. He watched the echoes of the world outside through Fistandantilus' thoughts. He saw Cyan Bloodbane through the lich's eyes, flickers of a distant city he somehow knew as Palanthas, the tall, dead tower than had once been the Tower of High Sorcery.
Then Raistlin had to pull back because his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Because it had been /Fistandantilus/ that had done this, who had twisted the mind of the young Black Robe Andras Rannoch to not only curse the Tower, but also start the Lost Battles.
Has Raistlin been able to speak, he wouldn't have been able to. Fistandantilus had destroyed the Order of High Sorcery to the point that it was only now recovering. He had acted for no reason other than a selfish lust for Godhood. Raistlin was trapped in the mind of someone who would had gladly sacrificed all the magic in the world for his own ends. Suddenly, he wondered if he /should/ act, even if it meant sacrificing his own mind, because if Fistandantilus was allowed to act freely, with Raistlin's power at his command...
But he didn't. Because as he had once told Fistandantilus, he was no Solamnic knight, no high noble to care for honor. Because he would not, not ever fall back into the pit of despair again, never give in again. And most of all, because he owed Dalamar nothing less./
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*And, in the ruins of Neraka*
Caramon stared up at the sky more concerned with whether his brother would return than the disapproving expression on the avatar of Paladine's face.
"He's gone, Tanis." The big man whispered sadly. "I thought... He sounded...” Caramon shook his head. "He was so /different/, he'd changed. He's still frail, but he isn't weak. The horrible cough is gone. His voice is his own, yet different. He's-"
"Fistandantilus." Fizban murmured, the scowled when both Caramon and Tanis bowed to him hurriedly. "Oh, stop that! Can't abide all that bowing. You're both hypocrites anyway. I've heard what you said behind my back... But never mind. You believed what I wanted you to believe." The avatar's face turned grave, "Now, about your brother. You are right, he is not himself. As was foretold, the Master of Past and Present has come, but yet, not as foretold." He shook his head.
"I don't understand." Caramon shook his head. "He changed so much. Did... did the Dark elf do this. I knew Raistlin had changed when he had met him, but this-"
Fizban snorted, "If you wish an explanation, you will have to look further than that. But those answers are not mine to give, nor yours to seek. Beware of those answers, young man, beware still more of your questions!"
"What will become of him now?"
"I do not know," If anything, Fizban's expression grew more bitter. "Neither he nor fate will be able to decide, that is certain. But I do know this, Caramon, you must to let him go. Do not seek him out, do not follow him because he is out of your ability to help. The only one who can..." Fizban sighed and shook his head again. "A pity he left so quickly," the God murmured, more to himself than anyone else, "I would have preferred to speak to him. My nephew shall be displeased.”

Skull Bearer.
- 9
- 10
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