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Red on Red	By : Sylviana_of_Qualinost Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 4499 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonlance or any of the characters. DL belongs to Wizards of the Coast and Weis and Hickman. No money is made from these installments.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1: The Assignment

The sun set over the Tower of High Sorcery in the forest of Wayreth. Not that there were many that could see the awe inspiring site of the hidden structure. The mages inside were rather preoccupied with their own business. Silviana of House Mystic of the Qualinesti may have been the only one enjoying the view of the sun rays spilling over the battlements from her high vantage point in Par-Salian's personal study. That was due in part to her elven nature and thus her love of the sun and all things beautiful. Yet, it was also due to her general absent mindedness.
Realizing of course that his pupil had not been attentive as usual, Par- Salian sighed in exasperation and threw up his hands. This startled Silviana out of her reverie and she looked over at her teacher and then down at her feet, feeling embarrassed. Silviana often felt embarrassed, being known amongst her elven kin as unnaturally clumsy for an elf. To any human, she would be far beyond the standard of loveliness. In her native land however, Silviana was considered rather plain and even slightly ugly due to the rather more heavy set shape of her legs and hips, the overall unruliness of her long brown hair and the fullness of her lips- all considered inferior traits by the elves. A runt of the litter in a big family, always teased, albeit lovingly, for her lacking qualities, the young elf-woman had no reason to wish to go back to Qualinesti after her Test, well over a year ago. Her choice of robes also did not help the situation.
Silviana, contrary to choosing the white robes worn by all in the House Mystic, had chosen the red of Lunitari. Of course, this was not considered a criminal act, as in the instance of choosing the black. However, it was deemed more than a little questionable and Silviana's family let her know through flowery phrased letters that although they would undeniably welcome her back should she visit and there was no question of exile, perhaps it would be best if the girl made her own way in the world. Preferably away from elven society.
Silviana did not get upset at this, she knew the way of the elves. Yet that left her in a predicament. For the first time in her 92 years, she did not know what to do with herself. As luck would have it, Par-Salian, head of the mages of Ansalon was endeared to the awkward elf-woman and offered for her to stay as one of his apprentices. Silviana took him up on the offer with joy. However, Par-Salian was soon questioning his choice. Unlike her studious master, Silviana loved to be outdoors and working with her hands. Although she enjoyed studies and research, her master often found her day dreaming over her books, much as she had just been day dreaming whilst looking out the window. Although she was an adequate mage, the only magic that appealed to her strongly was the art of healing. Silviana was an exceptional healer, the kind which had not been seen in the Tower for quite some time. Prior to the Cataclysm, there was little need for mages to practice the healing arts, that being mostly the domain of the clerics. After clerical healing had disappeared from the world, the mages did what they could but found the art strangely illusive. All except for the elves, who created new magics of their own and were rather successful at the enterprise. However, the elves were loathe to share the secrets of their healing magics with the rest of the mages. Silviana was the first of her kind to openly practice her arts outside the borders of her homeland.
This, in fact, was why she had been summoned to Par-Salian's personal study this evening.
“Have you heard a word I have said girl?” The old white-robe said testily, but with obvious fondness.
Silviana flushed.
“You think it is time I leave the tower.” She replied timidly.
“Indeed I do. I see the way you look out doors dear, there is a world out there to be discovered.” Par-Salian came to stand by her chair and rested a gnarled hand on the elf-woman's shoulder. Silviana raised her almond shaped eyes, which were the color of wilting grass, up to meet his. “And I fear that there is nothing more you can learn from me that would aide you in your personal aspirations.”
“In other words you no longer need me,” Silviana said but without bitterness.
That caused Antimodes to cough politely, drawing attention to himself.
“As a matter of fact, Lady Silviana,” The other white-robe stated with a slight wink, fond of women as always, “we need you very much.”
Silviana perked up at this and looked with interest from Par-Salian to Antimodes.
“There is someone who we believe would benefit significantly from your healing arts. He is a a young war-mage, also a red-robe like yourself.” Par-Salian looked intently at Silviana. “The Test left him in... quite a bad physical state and we have considered that perhaps with a healer of your skill to tend him for some time he might take a turn for the better.”
Silviana jumped up excitedly and indignantly hugged the older wizard. The elf-woman's other downfall in the eyes of her kin was her inability to act with restraint. Silviana was naturally energetic which made her fidgety, nervous and excitable. No amount of good elven schooling could beat that incessant characteristic out of her. This was another reason Silviana often felt embarrassed, her own impulsiveness being her private shame.
“Oh, thank you! An assignment from the Conclave all on my own!” Her arms tightened around her master. Then realizing what she had done, the elf-woman jumped back and lowered her eyes once more, mumbling apologies and twitching nervously from excitement.
Par-Salian chuckled at her reaction, then grew serious.
“This is not as simple an assignment as it may seem,” he said firmly. “This young man can be rather... difficult from what I hear. It is likely that he will not want your help. It will be up to you to convince him of your worth. At the same time he should provide a challenge for you. What ails him is not easily remedied. It is my hope that this assignation will increase your abilities considerably, as you need a challenge to test your skills.”
Silviana nodded veraciously, understanding only that she had been given an important task by the head of the Conclave. That she was after all, worthy of notice.
“Where... where do I find this young mage?”
“Antimodes here,” Par-Salian pointed to his friend, “will take you to him. You leave in the morning, so you may want to start packing after your dinner.”
With a joyous exclamation of, “I will not fail you, Shalafi!” Silviana was out the door.
Par-Salian and Antimodes observed each other in the now fallen twilight.
“You are right friend, I do not think I have met anyone so oblivious in my life.” Antimodes spoke at last. “She seems to have the attention span and energy of a kender. I do not know how she ever got along in Qualinesti. And the red-robes? Certainly a peculiar choice for an elf.”
“Indeed. Her Test was... Interesting to say the least. Never have I seen one so fitted to the red-robes. Raistlin may be favored by Lunitari, yet I think the goddess chooses this girl to be her embodiment.”
“Well, that goddess is known for her sense of humor,” Antimodes smirked. “Nevertheless, why give her false hope that she can do anything for Majere? You know as well as I do nothing will heal him.”
“I do not want to resign her to failure. Silviana is quick to get discouraged. I need her to be optimistic otherwise she will never go.”
Antimodes mulled this over carefully.
“I think, friend, that you feel worse about how that Test went then you let on. You feel sorry for the young man and what he must face in the future. You know that there is no hope of healing him, yet you send your best healer-mage to tend him, hoping perhaps that something may yet be done.”
Par-Salian did not answer but continued to look out the window and Antimodes knew that he had been right.
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Red on Red