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Engraven	By : Skullbearer Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 1949 -:- 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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Engraven

Mountain Pursuit
But oh your city lies in dust, my friend,
But oh your city lies in dust, my friend,
Your city lies in dust.
-Siouxsie And The Banshees, Cities In Dust.
The first flickers of the pre-dawn light were enough to wake Raistlin that morning. He had always been a light sleeper and the aftermath of the Test only made rest harder to come by.
Not that he minded, sleep had always seemed such a waste of time.
Raistlin sat up, shivering and wincing as the cold air wrapped an iron cord around his lungs. Choking back a cough, he hurriedly pulled his robes on and stoked up the last, smoldering flickers of last night's fire, sending sparks shimmering into the cloudy gray sky.
It was while he was fastening his boots that the sounds reached him, sounds of marching and the occasional shout coming from further up the road beside which he and Dalamar had set up camp the night before.
Well whoever they were, they were unlikely to be friendly, Raistlin decided. In these times, with Ansalon teetering on the brink of war, it was wise to be on your guard.
The mage scuffed soil over the fire and dug his still-sleeping lover in the ribs. Dalamar jumped awake, eyes darting around to see what the danger was. Raistlin had no need to tell him to be quiet though, the Dark elf's keen ears had already picked up the noise.
"Gods!" Dalamar swore softly, "Quick, finish putting that fire out. I'll go and see what it is."
Raistlin nodded, pausing for a moment to watch Dalamar hurrying towards the trees that bordered the road from this side before turning back to his task.
He had barely thrown two handfuls of earth over the dying embers before Dalamar came running back. "Forget about that!" He shouted, "There are at least two troops of goblins coming this way. We have to leave now!"
Raistlin froze, then snatched up the Staff of Magius and their few belongings, he didn't have to ask Dalamar whether the goblins had seen him, the elf's expression and the increased noise level behind them said it all. Clearly the goblins hadn't been at all pleased to have been spotted.
It was one of the few times that the mages were glad they owned so little, by the time the first goblin had burst through the line of trees, they had not only finished gathering their packs but had gotten quite a good head start.
Raistlin resisted the urge to look back and kept his eyes fixed on the range of mountain they were running towards. They had set up camp just south of the Sentinel Peaks, and since no one had yet mapped the myriad of trails and pathways through the area, they offered the two mages the best place to lose their pursuers.
Trying to ignore the shouts from behind them, Raistlin struggled to keep his footing as the ground sloped up sharply and rocks jutted out where the soil had eroded. They ran up a short rise between two large jagged stones, then down into a narrow valley between the mountains. Dalamar gave a muffled curse as he stumbled on the uneven ground, he caught his balance and hurried on.
The valley continued straight on, boulders scattered across it's shallow expanse as it rose sharply to meet the moutains on either side. Hardy grass clung on in places along the craggy rocks and animal trails led off in all directions.
The footfalls of their pursuers were louder now, crunching up the rise they had just cleared; Raistlin grabbed Dalamar's arm and pulled them both out the valley and on onto a path. It ran behind a large stone outcropping and put them both out of sight of the goblins.
The two mages slowed, partly as not to alert their enemies as to which path they had taken, but also because the trail was a on a meter-wide ledge with a sheer cliff on one side and a sharp drop on the other.
The progress was slow, edging around with their backs to the cliff, but the goblins must have hared off down the wrong path because there was neither sight nor sound of their pursuers.
Raistlin allowed himself a flicker of respite; they had escaped. He was surprised that he had been able to make it this far, especially while running.
As if those thoughts had triggered it, Raistlin felt his lungs spasm and his throat close. He ducked his head down and tried to will back the oncoming attack, but this time it was beyond him.
Not only would it immediately tell the goblins where they were, but a bad attack would effectively put the mage out of the fight, and this was promising to be a very bad one.
Perhaps he didn't have the strength to stop it, but Raistlin knew who did. The same person who had torn his lungs apart in the first place.
It was a risk, it always was a risk, but there was no real choice. He cast his awareness into that corner of his mind where Fistandantilus's power ebbed through.
It was cold, cold as ice, cold as death. Cold enough to put out the wildfire raging in his chest and allow him to take in a breath.
Badly weakened and very shaky, Raistlin slumped back against the hard rock of the cliff, gulping in air. After a moment he became aware of a hand stroking his hair soothingly.
He opened his eyes; Dalamar had sidled up next to him and was looking very relieved, "How are you feeling?"
"Better," Raistlin sighed, "But I will need my tea soon."
"Do you think you could hang on until we reach a cave or some such place?" Dalamar asked.
The younger mage nodded, there were plenty of caves in the weather beaten Sentinel Peaks.

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Raistlin blew on his fingers to warm them, the cave they had found was quite high up in the mountains, high enough that the frail mage felt slightly dizzy, and open to the freezing southern wind. Despite the fact that this made it seem more like winter than the early autumn it was, it worked to their benefit, dispersing the smoke from the fire within the cave, rather than outside where the goblin troops might see it.
Raistlin picked up his cup and took a sip of the bitter tea. He was sitting with his back against a natural stone pillar, out of the wind. The cave they had found was a large one, so large that even the firelight didn't penetrate its depths, leaving the back wall in shadow.
Raistlin looked back around the stalagmite. Dalamar was putting out the fire, kicking at the wood and scattering the embers.
The mage smiled to himself, drinking down the last of the foul-smelling mixture. He was just putting down the cup when he spotted something distinctly odd. Setting the cup down on a flat area of ground, he got up and made his way towards the back of the cave.
It went back further than he'd first thought, despite having lit the Staff of Magius the back of the cave was still lost in the dark.
He had no need to go that far in though, after all, it had been the sunlight that had alerted him that this cave might not be all they had thought it would be. The soft shimmer of light on a polished surface not far from where he had been sitting.
He heard Dalamar's footsteps behind him, the Dark elf would have seen Raistlin light the Staff and come to see what he had found.
Raistlin turned around and looked questioningly at his lover, "What do you make of that?"
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Engraven