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Summer of Flame	By : sinaline Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 1891 -:- 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
- 14
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- 16
Chapter Thirteen

The Sacrificial Lamb

Raistlin found himself in Palanthas again, and he pushed himself against the wall as a patrol walked past the alley he had rematerialized in. He watched the Dark Knights move past, one almost turning to walk into where he was hidden. Raistlin held his breath, fingers curling around the Staff of Magius.
If he was discovered now, he would simply be killed. Ariakan would have seen to that, warning or no warning, and he sought one particular Knight of Takhisis. With a sardonic smile he knew that this was a rather suicidal mission, but nothing good had ever come too easy.
Finally, they moved on, as the alley had remained quiet. Raistlin moved from his hiding spot and walked swiftly to where he had intended to be. Walking in the shop, too late he realized that if the Dark Knights held the city, then the Knights of the Thorn would have one of them stationed within.
The grey-robe walked up and pointed to a book, a frown on his face, “Brethren, while it pains me that you hold onto the Conclave, it is good to see a fellow. If you would please sign the book?”
Raistlin looked at the book, then the grey-robe, gauging how the ‘fellow’ would like a well-placed flaming hands spell when Jenna walked in and caught sight of him. Her eyes went from the Staff to him, took in his black robes, then back to him again. For a long moment they simply stared at each other. The grey robe, sensing a bit of tension in the air, backed away a little.
By far he wasn’t sure he understood. The red robe, Mistress Jenna, was well known for consorting with Dalamar who had been apprenticed to the renegade black robe Raistlin Majere. If she was willing to consort with Dalamar, then he by far did not understand her nervousness around this thin man with a staff... then he got a really good look at said Staff, and remembered the current Nightlord, and what had happened to the last...
He kept his excitement under control. It was him, it had to be. Mahogany staff, crystal in a dragonclaw on top of staff, bronze shod tip. Black robes on a very thin man. Granted, he didn’t have gold skin, but that he had heard about too, but word was that he had somehow broken the curse of his hourglass eyes. The young Thorn Knight, who while he knew should have been informing his higher ups, was too awe struck to do anything but suggest again, half hoping the man would sign his name and confirm his suspicions, “Sir, I am afraid that as per orders, you must sign your name to the log book.”
Jenna and the Black Robe stared at him, Jenna in thinly veiled shock, the Black Robe with bemusement. Finally, Jenna broke the silence, “Palas, we thought you were dead.”
Disappointment broke the Thorn Knight’s mood and his hopeful face fell, “Palas?”
The Black Robe, Palas, answered both, “Yes. I know, I nearly was. It took me years to return and I return to this.”
“Sir, may I ask about your staff?” asked the Thorn Knight. “I must see if it is magical.”
The Black Robe boredly turned to him, “Why?”
“Because by orders of Lord Ariakan, all powerful magical items must be confiscated for service to our Dark Queen,” answered the Thorn Knight. “Surely you knew this upon entering the city?”
The Black Robe sighed, and his tone was clearly condescending, “And what service should I truly care about to your Dark Queen? Nuitari is the God of Dark Magic, brethren.”
The Thorn Knight blinked in surprise, and answered with his own tone of long suffering
patience, “If you were aware, the Knight of Takhisis control Palanthas. That means Takhisis, not Nuitari. Entering Palanthas means that you agree to our terms, and our terms clearly state that everything is used in the service of the Dark Queen. If your staff is magical, I must take it.”
“Over my...” the Black Robe moved into a defensive posture, but Jenna leapt in between.
“Palas, no!” she put her hands on his shoulders. “You’ve been my father’s friend for too many years for me not to at least give you fair warning. The Knights are too powerful for one man to challenge, even one of your skill. Stay your hand.”
The two evil wizards fell into a dark silence, glaring at each other, and with an angry flourish, Palas signed his name. The grey robe read it
Palas Norwood
Satisfied, the grey robe moved the book back to where he had kept it, then he cast the detect magic spell on Palas’ belongings.
Nothing glowed.
The Thorn Knight looked from the pile of belongings, including the staff, to Palas again. Palas had a slight smile on his face, and he remarked, “My, what a waste of a perfectly good memorized spell that was on your part...”
The Thorn Knight then tried Arcane Sight, then another Detect Magic. Still nothing. Finally, he gave up in disgust, “I know it’s enchanted, Norwood, and I suspect so do you. But, as I cannot prove its enchantment, it remains with you. Mark my words, I shall report this to the Nightlord.”
“Go ahead, I’m sure that he will like to hear your tale, Dark Knight. Tell him hello while you’re at it,” with that the Black Robe went upstairs to Jenna’s private quarters.
The grey robe fumed.
* * *
“Do you mind telling me what the point of that was?”“ asked Jenna in a near silent whisper.
“I need the Nightlord to know that I’m here,” answered Raistlin. “However, if he had found out who I was right away, it would have been far too soon. Has Dalamar told you what transpired North of here?”
She nodded as she led him into the small dining area. “It’s nothing like the Tower, but it is home.”
“It suits me fine,” remarked Raistlin. “Jenna, is the Tower still accessible? When I tried to teleport in I found that I could not.”
“Dalamar sealed it so that the Dark Knights could not enter,” she answered.
“Ironic, since it is my Tower and not his, and he knows that,” Raistlin remarked sourly. “And yet, I am sealed out of it. I was looking forward to a third trip through the Shoikan Grove for magical supplies, however if I must... unless, of course, he has given you some way in?”
She shook her head, “He is the only one that I know of.”
Raistlin stood up and began to pace, “That presents a problem considering who I have to find before tomorrow’s nightfall, and I would rather not do it the same method as last time.”
“I see,” she said. “Perhaps I can still help you. I am quite familiar with the patrols now.”
Raistlin sat back down and listened as she explained the new patrols, then she added, “Also, you may want to go to the Broken Mug Tavern.”
With that in mind, he walked back downstairs and nodded curtly to the Grey Robe. The Grey Robe stopped him, “Norwood, I get the feeling that you walk a dangerous path, and you do it for all. Even though you do not welcome it, Takhisis’s blessing go with you.”
Raistlin turned to face the Grey Robe, an eyebrow lifted in curiosity, and the Grey Robe explained, “Each Knight of Takhisis is given their own Vision that fits within the Greater Vision, a puzzle piece to the greater tapestry. Mine has told me that... I never saw you here this day, Majere, although, it was an honor to have met you. You were always one of my, ah, role models in life before the Vision.”
Raistlin shook the man’s hand and said, “I only pray that there will still be a Vision when this is all finished, brethren. And the Gods of Magic always insure good casting.”
With that Raistlin left and the Grey Robe turned to Jenna, “That was... a tremendous honor. I never thought I would ever meet him.”
A moment later, he was all grimness and seriousness again, and back to taking all names of those who entered. Jenna threw her hands up in the air in disbelief, “You would think he was some popstar Bard or something the way people act around him!”
The Grey Robe smiled ever so slightly, “I know another Knight that has a painting of him on his wall...”
Jenna stormed back up the stairs of the building in thinly veiled disgust.
* * *
Raistlin used Jenna’s advice in getting to the tavern. Upon entering he was hard pressed to find a seat in the barely above disgusting alehouse. He had to almost pinch his nose to keep from being nauseated. He picked a seat by the fire, sighing in relief at the smell of burning wood and smoke as the two smells covered the smell of stale ale. A barmaid, somehow making her way to him, asked, “What can I get you?”
Perhaps it was her cultured voice that attracted his attention, the accent he, for the life of him, could just not pick out and recognize. He found himself looking up and something within himself connected. “White wine, and for you to sit down,” he answered evenly. “You, and I, I think, need to have a long chat.”
She went and came back with his wine and even sat down. Catching a glance from the dirty and overweight man that had to be her boss, she tried to sit a bit too close to Raistlin. With a sigh, Raistlin realized just what of place this tavern was, and what she was. With a frown, he pulled her close, and whispered, “Relax, I am not here for that. But I can get you out of here, permanently.”
The relief was evident in her gold eyes, and he pushed back the white hair. Okay, Jenna, what was the point of this, he wondered as he looked at the girl closely. Caramon had told him, in the night they had spent at the Inn, of the legend that had been going around. Gold eyes, yes, white hair, oh yes, that was a definite feature, gold skin... wait a minute, she did have gold skin...
Raistlin looked her up and down and then asked, “Who is your father?”
“I was told I could be Raistlin’s daughter,” she answered quietly. “Then I was thrown to the streets when Lord Dalamar saw that I had no magic of my own.”
Dalamar.
Of course. Raistlin was going to have one very, very long chat with his former apprentice upon meeting him again, he could see... perhaps Dalamar would like a matching set of finger prints from his other hand? The prospect was entirely too tempting, and Raistlin smiled darkly and said, “Whether you are my daughter remains to be seen. But rest assured, my daughter or no, you are not staying here another minute.”
The girl fairly retreated from him and Raistlin, out of the corner of his eye, caught her boss walking over, the expression on his face turning dark and ugly... if were possible to get any uglier... as well as a few of the Tavern’s bouncers. Raistlin stood to meet them and pushed the girl behind him in a measure of protection. The patrons all backed away upon seeing the black robes he wore and the staff. The boss stopped so close to Raistlin that he had to wrinkle his nose at the man’s putrid breath. “What do ya think you’re doin’ with one of mah girls?”
“She was never yours to begin with,” Raistlin’s whisper crept up the beams and settled over the entire room as it fell silent. “And she is leaving with me this very minute.”
The man laughed, “And how do ya think you’re goin’ to do that?”
Raistlin began to reach for his belt pouches, the ones that held his spell components. “I would trust you to back off or will I have to ‘demonstrate’ how very serious I am?”
The man frowned darkly, “You don’t scare me, and I don’t like being bullied by some wizard who thinks he owns the joint.”
Raistlin smiled, “Whatever. Move, I will not ask again.” To the girl he said, “Are you set?”
She nodded and said, “Yes, father.”
If it were possible it got even more silent in the room as the boss looked Raistlin up and down. Suddenly he was having second and third thoughts. If Dalamar had been accurate when he had sold the girl to him, she was supposingly the daughter of Raistlin Majere. That would mean that this extremely thin, but richly dressed, Black Robe was also equally supposingly Raistlin Majere himself. The owner looked from Raistlin, to the Staff, and then went white. Oh yes, if legend and the bards were correct on description, that had to be the Staff of Magius. In the hands of a Black Robe, who the ‘Daughter of Raistlin’ had just called father.
Raistlin continued reaching for a spell pouch and right when he was about to pull something out of it, the tavern emptied, the staff of the tavern and the patrons alike all vacating the premises in the span of two minutes until it was only Raistlin and the girl. He turned to the girl, and said, “Hot water.”
She blinked and went to do as told. A few minutes later in a relatively clean kettle that looked like she had tried to clean to the best that she could a few minutes before, as well as use the best water she could find, she brought him the hot water.
She also set down a clean teacup, with the quiet explanation, “They never used them.”
That suited him fine. He sat down and put the herbs that he used for his tea. The smell of the tea quickly overwhelmed the other smells in the tavern, and he asked, “What is your name?”
“I am called Usha,” she answered then looked up. “Am I truly your daughter?”
“I don’t think so,” he answered, looking out the stained windows in thought. “I cannot find any family resemblance. You don’t look like my mother, nor like my sister, so my guess would be no. Although, you could take after your mother, but I have no idea. What I suspect you are, truly, is something altogether different which is perhaps why Mistress Jenna pointed you out to me.”
“But you are Raistlin Majere?” she asked even quieter.
“Oh yes,” he answered. “I am he.”
He could see the question in her eyes, and he allowed the Guardian Armor, the gold skin, eyes and the white hair to show, “It is armor that both you and I possess. It does not have to mean that we are remotely related, but in a sense you and I are brother and sister of a trust. I can see that much. I suspect that if you had been my daughter, you may have inherited that trust, but there is just as much a chance that you would have not. But you do not have to be related to me by blood to get it.”
“I don’t understand,” her brows crinkled in puzzlement.
“And we both don’t have enough time for me to explain,” he answered. “Though I should. All I can say is termed in a question. If you have ever felt like you don’t belong, you are not the only one, I feel that call as well, but think long and hard as to what it could mean, Usha. Meditate deeply on the implications. You are not human born, and neither am I.”
She looked up in confusion, “We are not human?”
“No, nor any mortal race. We are not created by Gods,” he answered then leaned close. “We are Gods, actually, one God in particular. All of us are the Fragments of the Shattered God, called to the Greater Balance. And... unfortunately... given the limits on time that I already have... that is all I can say. Farewell, Usha, and may the Greater Balance guide you.”
He stood up, and she stood with him. Usha, starved for the even half friendly contact, hugged Raistlin with a force that nearly sent him into a coughing fit. He patted her on the back, “Okay, you can let go now...”
She released him with a slight blush, “I’m sorry, I needed that and you were the closest person that was even remotely friendly since I left Selesia.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he answered, then sighed. “I can give you one last piece of advice; after all this is over and you have finished your part in the coming war, find a town called Solace. It is located on this continent South of here. It is a long journey, but worth it. You will find my family there. Tell Caramon I sent you.”
Raistlin reached under his robes and pulled out a small pendant that had been his mother’s. “Show him this, then he will believe you.”
Usha looked at the pendant in her hands, then looked back up to thank the archmage.
But Raistlin was already gone.
* * *
Raistlin made his way back to Jenna’s Magic Shop and entered. This time the Grey Knight merely nodded in response to Raistlin’s arrival, correctly assuming that Raistlin had not come for magical supplies... again. Jenna came back down the stairs and her eyes widened as soon as she saw him, “What are you doing here!?”
“Mistress Jenna, I need a pen and some parchment,” he said and then shook his head as she headed for the heavier scroll paper for making magical scrolls. “No, not for that. I simply need to write a letter to my brother, and when the time comes I need someone bound by honor to deliver it...”
He looked pointedly at the Grey Knight, who stood up straighter upon realizing that Raistlin was speaking of him, “Me, sir?”
“What is so important?” asked Jenna in vague curiosity as she assembled the scroll paper and ink she used for letters, not expecting the answer she got...
“... My will,” answered Raistlin. “Where I go next I suspect I may not walk out of alive, ever. But it is necessary for the Balance to be maintained, the sacrifice that must be made.”
She turned to him in surprise, handing him the ink, the pen and the paper as he walked into her back office and sat down. She closed the door and turned away from the Dark Knight who put his hand on her shoulder in consolation.
Raistlin did not see any of this, as after he had sat down at the desk and prepared the pen, holding the paper as he did so, what he wanted to write had slipped out his mind like sand. There was far too much to be said, and too many people to say it. Finally he dipped the quill and began to write.
I write this in the sight of the Gods as it is my last wishes. I knew that one day this would come and I find it very hard to even comprehend that I must tell so much to everyone.
So I will attempt to tell you in this.
My Brother, my twin, Caramon Majere; too many years have past in bitter hate. I think, in the end, that perhaps you had the better life of the two of us, perhaps even the better outlook on life. I envy that, and I think that is why I was always so bitter and hateful to you. You never deserved it, and I apologize. Too late, I know, but I guess the thought is there. Even though I rather suspect the answer, forgive me for what I have done, and live on with those who have always made you happy. I hope you and Tika have many years together in contentment, and I suspect you will anyway. If I had anything to give you that was not tainted in darkness, I would. Perhaps all I can give you is some peace of mind; for all the pain that you will have shortly, many more years of contentment and bliss will come to you. That much I can See. Be well, my Brother.
Crysania; I know I promised that I would live with you and grow old with you, but I have found that it cannot come to pass. I wish that I could, but I think you out of all of them understand the ordeal that is coming as well as what I must do for Krynn, and other worlds, to survive. I do love you, and I also See marital bliss for you. One hint on where it will be found– it has been under your nose the entire time! I would ask Tandar about that... I do have one other thing to give you, though, something that always caught your eye and I see being of more use to you. The hair tie and the cloak clasp I always wear, they are enchanted with protection spells. They are yours.
To my wonderful nephews Tanin and Sturm; well, I have this to say about you two, you definitely made life interesting. Tanin, you can keep that sword I lent you in my Tower. Sturm, you can have my leather armor. I wish I had two of each because I can’t see two young men more deserving of a suit of each and having each a sword. I hope you have sons that are just like both are, that way you both have the great pride I experienced as well as the hair-pulling frustrations. Not that I wouldn’t repeat the experiences with you had I the chance... wherever I am I will remember the Gargath mission with great fondness. Just don’t try drinking another dwarf under the table since we have figured out that we lose...
To Usha; if I ever had a daughter, I would hope that she would be one as innocent and as beautiful as you are. You and I are called Fragments of the Shattered God, Miiro. With this both comes great power as well as a great responsibility. You, now, have inherited this. I name you my Successor, and I bestow the Blue Star upon you after my death. Guard it well, Guardian, and remember that with this honor comes responsibility. Go to Solace like I suggested, my twin brother Caramon and his wife Tika will receive you and teach you what you need to know to survive on Ansalon.
I wish I could say more but I am running out of paper and if I make it longer the messenger will not be able to roll it up. Be well, live a long life, and remember me as I was before I fell.
Raistlin Majere
With that Raistlin sprinkled sand on the ink to make it dry. Once the ink was dried, he shook off the sand and rolled the scroll up. Taking some sealing wax he dribbled it on the scroll to seal it and pressed his signet ring into the wax.
Afterwards he walked out into the common area and handed the scroll to the Grey Knight, “When this is all over, and you will know when, I want you to take this to my brother Caramon Majere in Solace.”
The Grey Robe took the scroll, “You have my oath of honor that I will do as you ask, Master.”
Raistlin nodded then looked around, “Good bye.”
He walked out into the street, skirting patrols as he did so. Finally he came to the Knights of the Lily and walked into the barracks. Dropping the cowl of his hood of his head, he told the nearest Knight, “My name is Raistlin Majere. I surrender.”
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Summer of Flame