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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.

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Alvorecer
Chapter two- ForSaken
A pill to make you numb
A pill to make you dumb
-Coma White, Marilyn Manson
/Raistlin didn't want to feel. He curled up in the back of his own mind, trying not to think. But he could feel. He couldn't see or hear, but he could feel, however vaguely, and he couldn't shut it out.
He could feel himself dying.
It was ironic. Even with Fistandantilus' help, just transporting himself via the Dragon orb had damaged his body enough to kill him. Had he tried to do so by himself, and with Dalamar with him, they would have both died. And now it would make no difference. At least, not for the lich. Raistlin wished Dalamar was with him, that they could have died together, as they had sworn all those months ago in Tarsis.
He could feel Fistandantilus' cold anger, his determination to do- to do what? What could he possibly do to stop his host body dying? Forcing Raistlin’s body to keep moving, to keep living even a little longer. Raistlin was at least grateful that he couldn't feel the pain that must be racking him right now, a felt a brief stab of satisfaction that it was Fistandantilus who had to bear the pain he had so often inflicted on Raistlin himself. And because of those self-same wounds, Fistandantilus had destroyed his only chance at returning.
Even behind the walls the lich had thrown up to imprison him, Raistlin could feel the familiar sensation of the magic nearby. It must be truly strong, for him to be able to feel it. He wondered where they were. He could have fought, perhaps disrupt whatever the lich was trying to do, but what difference would it make?
The lightning feel of the magic was even stronger now, and Raistlin realized that he was casting. Using Raistlin's magic to cast his spells. It angered him. A small, petty emotion compared to the grief still churning in him, but still there, offering strength.
The spell was completed, but what good would it do but accelerate his death? It was only when he felt the dragging sensation of a teleportation spell- a faint echo of the one he had felt with the Dragon orb- that Raistlin started to fear./

Dalamar barely listened to Tanis' words. He knew what he was saying. He had lived through it and didn't want to hear the Half-elf's views. Instead, he stared at Berem.
The Dark elf frowned. Kitiara had sent out an army to find him, had risked the Maelstrom to get at him. What could this man possible offer the Dragon Highlords for them to risk so much? He would have to talk this over with-
With Raistlin.
It should have hurt less. He couldn't believe it could hurt more but it did. Raistlin was not there, would not be there how ever many times he looked. Would not be lying next to him in the mornings, would not be there, under his hands, at night. Would not be standing next to him every time he thought of him, as he had every time before. Would not be there to share everything with, good or bad. He would be alone, and so, Dalamar realized with a jolt, would Raistlin.
The memory of his lover's face the moment before he teleported away resurfaced in Dalamar's mind. His eyes were wrong, a dead man's eyes. The eyes of the Silvanesti Nightmare. Dalamar tried to focus, to see past the grief racking him. He had seen those eyes, had heard that same voice in the Silvanesti Nightmare and afterwards, the day after and the night Raistlin tried to use the Dragon orb the first time. Dalamar bit back a sob, not even feeling the tears streaking his face. Still he forced himself to think. The times he had seen Raistlin look like that, it had been as though someone else was wearing his skin like a cloak, his face like a mask. Everything about him, his posture and voice and above all the dead look in his eyes, was alien. And so were his actions.
Dalamar was afraid of letting himself believe this, because if he did, and if turned out he was wrong and Raistlin- and how it hurt even to consider this!- Raistlin had willingly left him to die, then Dalamar knew that the pain would be beyond even his ability to cope with. But the more he thought of it, the more this seemed to be the only answer that made sense. He could not imagine why Raistlin would have left him, especially like this, and if he hadn't been so crippled by grief, he would have realized it immediately.
But his mind felt clearer now, and despite the tears still burning his eyes, his thoughts came more easily. If Raistlin had been- he didn't even know if there was a word for what happened, but if it had happened again... He didn't dare to let himself feel what that would mean, it was too dangerous, to lie himself open so quickly after suffering such a devastating blow. It would be so wonderful to feel that kind of relief, after all that pain, but he couldn't risk it.
Oh Nuitari, Dalamar covered his eyes, surprised to feel the wet track of tears. He had trusted Raistlin, and Gods help him, part of him still wanted to.
Then Dalamar's hand dropped, his eyes widening as the realization struck. Every time he had seen Raistlin like that, every time, it hadn’t lasted very long. Longest in Silvanesti- even now Dalamar didn't know how long that had lasted but no more than a few days. A few minutes the following night, and bare moments during their last night in Flotsam. Surely, by now Raistlin would have recovered from it?
Then, where would he go? Would he head to Palanthas, hoping that Dalamar would meet him there, in the place they had named as their destination- perhaps using the time to find the books on the Dragon orb? Or would he go to Kalaman, trying to reach the place where he knew the Perechon would have made port-
No. No he wouldn't. A horrible chill shook him. Raistlin wouldn't even try. Because Raistlin thought he was dead. The last thing he would have known was that Dalamar was trapped on the doomed Perechon, and at that moment probably believed him lost to the Maelstrom. This time, his grief was entirely sympathetic- bad enough to have been abandoned like this, but at least he knew that Raistlin was alive, and hopefully unhurt. For Raistlin...
It shocked Dalamar how quickly he'd come to accept this idea, but then, how often had they sneered at how the others made completely illogical decisions based on how much they wanted to believe them. It seemed that when the stakes were high enough, he was no better.
But it made sense. He clung onto that on hope. There was no reason, no possible reason why Raistlin would willingly leave him to die. Even in the Silvanesti Nightmare, he remembered how something- someone?- had looked out from behind Raistlin's face, as thought it was a mask. And that last look in Raistlin's eyes- when they were still his and not that of the dead- that look of horror...
He had to hold onto that hope, because if that was gone then what was the point of going on?
Tanis had stopped talking, and the silence was broken only by the wash of the waves. Dalamar looked up as Apoletta broke the silence; he hadn’t heard a word of what they'd said.
"What about him?" She asked, nodding at Berem.
Dalamar glanced over at the man, he was staring into the shadows of the cave, looking- if anything- even more stricken than he did.
"I don't know." Tanis said dully, also watching Berem, "He is the key, according to the Queen of Darkness. Find him, she said, and victory is hers."
"Well, you've got him." Apoletta answered stiffly, "Does that make victory yours?"
Dalamar, who had only been idly listening, suddenly looked at Apoletta, surprised. It wasn't often somebody put forward an idea he or- a stab of pain, but he thought through it anyway- Raistlin hadn't already thought of.
Tanis scratched his beard, clearly this was a new thought for him too, “True... we have got him, but what do we do with him? What is there about him that grants victory- to either side?"
"Doesn't he know?"
"He claims he doesn't."
"I would say he was lying," Apoletta said slowly, "but then he is human, and I know little of the strange workings of the human mind. There is a way you can find out, however. Journey to the Temple of the Dark Queen in Neraka."
"Neraka!" Tanis said shocked, but before he could go on, Berem interrupted him with a terrible scream. It reminded Dalamar of the cry the man he let out when he had seen Kitiara and her dragons. Neraka obviously didn't appeal to him either.
"What is it, Berem?" Tanis snapped at him, "Did you see something?"
"He didn't see anything, Half-elf," Apoletta was obviously more perceptive, "He reacted that way when I said Neraka-"
Neraka. Dalamar watched the three of them. He didn't want to go to Neraka. There was nothing for him in Neraka, he had no stake in this mad quest, and had followed it only from a lack of other options. And it had cost him more than he could ever have dreamt.
He couldn't ever have imagined this outcome, during that evening, last autumn, when they’d followed the others. Not even in his nightmares.
No, his part in this was finished; he wanted nothing more to do with these fools. Let them face the Queen of Darkness and let them die. He wanted to find Raistlin. He /had/ to find Raistlin, he would go to the Red Moon if it had to, he would find him, and finally understand what had been happening. The decision to act cleared his mind, although that only brought home the size of the task he'd taken on. Where could he even start?
"How old did you say he was?" Apoletta's thoughtful voice brought him back to the world.
"Over three hundred years, or so he /claims/," Tanis spat, "If you only believe half of what he says, that cuts it down to one hundred and fifty, which doesn't seem too plausible either, not for a human."
"You know," Apoletta said thoughtfully "the Queen's Temple at Neraka is a mystery to us. It appeared suddenly, after the Cataclysm, so far as we have been able to determine. Now we find this man who would trace his ancestry to that same time and place."
"It is strange..." Tanis said slowly.
"Yes. It may be nothing more than coincidence, but follow coincidence far enough and you'll find it tied to fate, so my husband says."
"Coincidence or not, I don't see myself walking into the Temple of the Queen of Darkness and asking why she's searching the world for a man with a green gemstone buried in his chest."
Apoletta frowned, and looked over at Dalamar, who stiffened under her cold glare. "Why not ask him? He is a follower of the Dark Gods, perhaps he knows."
Tanis blinked, and looked at Dalamar, obviously having forgotten the elf was even there. He shook his head and sighed. Dalamar felt slightly insulted and fought back the urge to sneer. Tanis was very confident for someone who knew nothing, even though he himself knew even less.
Apoletta shook her head, "But surely, to take him with you if you are going to the temple-"
"I am not going with them." Dalamar's vice was hoarser than he expected, scraped raw from his tears. He glanced at Tanis, "Go and throw yourselves in the Dark Queen's jaws if you wish, Half-human, I am leaving."
"Where are you going?" Tanis frowned.
Dalamar did sneer this time. /Guess./ He turned to Apoletta, now feeling foolish that he hadn't asked the way out before announcing his intention to leave.
"I don't know the way out," Apoletta said coldly. "Neither does Zebulah. It was never our concern."
"What!" Tanis gasped, "We could wander in these ruins for weeks-"
Dalamar's turned, his ears picking up footsteps under Half-elven’s shouting. The others stepped into the chamber, followed by Zebulah. Dalamar's stomach clenched as he laid eyes on Caramon's grey face, and felt an overwhelming hate towards the big man that eclipsed his previous loathing, and which not even reason could suppress. He had no reason to hate the man, rationally. He had no more to do with Raistlin’s disappearance than the Dark elf have. But he had been abandoned as Dalamar had. Left to die as Dalamar had. And now Dalamar would have gladly killed the man.
Goldmoon and Riverwind were talking to Tanis, Tika standing near Caramon. The big man raised his head, his eyes shadowed and reddened, to meet Dalamar' gaze. The Dark elf bared his teeth. No more. He wanted nothing more to do with this group. If there was truly no way out of the ruins, he would follow Zebulah and find where the mage kept his spellbook, he would steal the tome and discover what spells the man had to help him escape this underwater tomb. If he couldn’t steal it, and the man wouldn't let him use it, then he would kill the red robe and take the tome anyway. After the Blood Sea, nothing held any fear for him any more.
"Perhaps I can help you, after all." Apoletta's voice caught his attention.
"Apoletta," Zebulah admonished, "What are you saying? Consider-"
"I have considered. The Half elf said we should be concerned about what happens in the world. He is right. The same thing could happen to us that happened to our Silvanesti cousins." Dalamar felt sick at the reminder- another blow. "They renounced the world and allowed dark and evil things to creep into their land. We have been warned in time. We can still fight the evil. Your coming here may have saved us, Half- elf," she turned to Tanis, "We owe you something in return."
"Take us back to our world." Dalamar snarled.
The sea elf stared at him- they all did. Dalamar felt his skin crawl under their eyes, the first time he had stood under their stares alone. He felt as though something vital was missing from him, as though Raistlin had been as much a part of him as his own flesh and bone.
Apoletta looked as though she would have wanted to deny him that and spare the outside world his presence. But between the he knowledge that the Dark elf would undoubtedly make trouble in her world, and the elven love for life that held her back from sorting out the problem by killing him, she could only nod. "Where would you go?" She addressed Tanis.
Tanis just shook his head uselessly, "I suppose one place is as good as another."
"Palanthas." Dalamar said coldly. He agreed with Tanis that any place was as good as another, but it was a good a place to start as any. The voice could have taken Raistlin anywhere, but if his lover had regained control, he would almost certainly head to Palanthas, and the library that held the books on commanding the Dragon orb.
"No." Dalamar gritted his teeth at the sea elf's voice "I cannot take you to Palanthas. Our borders extend only as far as Kalaman. Beyond that, we dare not venture. Especially if what you say is true, Half-elven, for beyond Kalaman lies the ancient home of the sea dragons."
Dalamar shrugged bitterly, Kalaman then. After all, they had no idea if Palanthas would even be standing- or Kalaman, for that matter.
Goldmoon was saying something to Tanis, the Half-elf smiled and nodded at Apoletta. "Take us to Kalaman. It's where we were headed anyway."
Apoletta nodded. She and Zebulah waited only long enough to warn them that the journey would be long and trying, and advising them to get as much sleep as they could, before preparing to leave. Dalamar watched Zebulah closely. The man was clearly planning to leave with his wife, underwater, and he wanted to see what spell he was planning to use.
"How will we travel?" Tanis asked quickly, as the Red robe joined his wife in the water. "By boat?"
"You will swim," She smiled, "Didn't you wonder how we brought you down here? Our magic arts, and those of my husband, will give you the ability to breathe water as easily as you now breathe air."
Dalamar's attention snapped back to the sea elf. She may have saved his life once, but he certainly wasn't about to trust himself blindly to someone who had expressed regret over him having survived at all. "Tell your husband to let me look through his spellbook myself." Dalamar snapped. "I will cast the spell on myself."
Apoletta looked outraged at the suggestion. "You will leave by our terms, Night Son. And we will not hand anything of ours to you." Zebulah, behind her, nodded. He looked, if anything, even angrier than his wife. "We will send you away, gladly."
Dalamar inhaled, for a moment he wanted to argue, but let his breath out unspoken. He didn't have the energy to argue, and he could see in their eyes that it would be useless anyway.
Apoletta waited until it was obvious that he had nothing more to add, and then nodded at the others. "We will come for you at the ebb tide."
Dalamar lay down by the waters edge, on a spot where the sea had washed the red silt over the hard stone of the floor, offering a soft bed. He wondered if it would be worth the effort to try and find Zebulah’s spellbook, but discarded the idea. It wasn't worth the effort, and he had no doubt that the man would keep his tomes well hidden.
Sleep came almost mechanically. He didn't feel tired. He didn't feel anything. But he knew his body needed rest. Dalamar felt as though he was made of gnomish clockwork, winding down. Like a machine, he closed his eyes.
Like a machine, he didn't dream.
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Had Raistlin been there when he woke, Dalamar would have believed the whole of the last day a horrible nightmare. But he wasn't, and Dalamar knew it was no dream.
The beach he had woken on was grey and depressing, the day cold in the first tentative days of spring dawning. The sky was overcast, threatening rain and the sea an even darker shade, lashing irritably at the shore. Dalamar looked out over the waves, wondering if he could catch sight of the sea elves that had brought them here. But the only thing moving in the water was a shattered tree-trunk.
He could see the others though, stretched out on the pallid sand like corpses. Caramon was closest, flat on his back with one arm outstretched over Tika. For a moment, Dalamar wondered if it would be worth putting a blade through his throat- somehow, in the chaos of the Blood Sea and Istar, he had not lost his dagger. But no.
Dalamar turned away, towards the hills, and walked away. He didn’t look back.
Skull Bearer.
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And a rather fluffy Ice and Steel set piece on my LJ- http://skullbearer. livejournal.com /99821. html#cutid1 Just get rid of the spaces.
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Alvorecer