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A Book of Roses - Book 2	By : Moongirl Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 3932 -:- 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
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter 3 – The Fall

Tension was mounting in the small town. The grand warriors of Takhisis were growing restless as they were ordered to remain put again. They heard of the action going on around Ansalon, even of the great coming of the goddess in the bedeviled city of Neraka. And they were stuck in the middle of nowhere. The army’s patience was wearing thin, and the mages were put on assignment to quell the possible uprising.
They wove every possible spell they could muster, everyion ion they could think of to bring the soldiers under their power. Some became docile under the treatment, others went into a stupor, and a handful died. But many had the will to fight the wizards’ powers. These soldiers were chosen for their strength and the resistance to magical attacks. They knew their measures were just a game of buying time. In case the spells failed, the draconians were placed under the control of the mages as a final resort. If there were to be a revolt, these troops would be sent out to kill the deserters.
For the next four nights, Shareene could see and sense the change in the troops, even in the town with the streets mildly deserted. Not many soldiers came in for their ale and women, and every night she heard the wailing of the owner and the serving girls. The girls cried over the loss of their favorite clients, thinking that the soldiers had forgotten about them and lost their chance at potential glory. The keeper moaned over the loss of revenue, and she wished to take a frying pan to the back of his head every time she heard it.
Shareene spent her nights sitting by her window, hoping that Raistlin was safe. As safe as anyone else could be, she reminded herself. She knew he was capable of strong magic, could almost feel it whenever they touched. But she also knew how it could leave him weak and in a daze. He loved to challenge his limits to the point of near death. She wondered if he would be able to come back if things have gotten as bad as she heard. She prayed to whomever would listen that she might be able to see him at least one more time.
On that fourth night, she worked her shift as she normally did. The bar was empty of troops, only a few of the townspeople were there. They almost seemed lost without the harassment of their captors, as if they missed the abuse. As the girls weepily handed out the mugs of ale, Shareene resigned herself to mopping the floor.
She heard a fast stride approach her from behind. Before she could react, a feverish hand grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, making her drop the mop. She was about to protest until her eyes locked to altered amber ones, and she nearly broke down in relief. His face was fixed in a hard stare, almost angry in some way. saidsaid nothing to her, just started to haul her away, snarling at the owner, “She’s off duty now.” In a rustle of black robes she was hustled up the stairs to her room.
As soon as she shut the door and locked it, he made a quipellpell of warding over the wood, and then slammed his back against the wall, wheezing and coughing. The spasms became so violent he doubled over, almost falling to the floor but she caught him before then. Shareene helped him to a chair by the fireplace, letting him settle in before she went to stoke the fire. The coughing stopped just before he passed out, and she could hear the rattling in his chest as he regained his breath. A tap on her shoulder, she turned around and he tossed her a small pouch. As she clamped her hand around it, she could smell some sort of herbs inside. His hands made a motion to make a tea out of it, and she nodded in understanding.
Once it was done, she slipped the mug into his hands, gently closing his fingers around it. The smell and heat brought him to a more awakened state, the habit bringing him to sip at the potion carefully. Once she was sure he wouldn’t drop the cup or have another bout of coughing, she pulled up another chair and sat across from him.
Shareene knew he could be rather sick, knew how badly he could succumb to illness. The horrible cough did not scare her, nor did it surprise her or bring out pity. It was a part of him, she accepted that fact. There were times she helped out when he was terribly ill, stayed by his side when his brother had to work; she would help with the cooking and coaxed him to eat the soup she made. Her touch was gentle, rather motherly, and a few times in his fevered dreams did he call her by his mother’s name. She just smiled and hushed him into falling asleep.
Once he was done with the brew, Raistlin leaned his head back againhe the tall back of the chair and breathed out of his mouth, as if to test if his lungs could function properly again. She took the empty cup from his hands and set it aside. She noticed the smear of blood on the lip of the cup, never had she seen him that sick before. She turned back to him, and his eyes were turned to her, half lidded but lost tard ard edge she saw before.
“I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you working here,” he whispered. No malevolence in his voice, just a simple statement.
“What was I supposed to do? Sit up here all day, pining for you like a spoiled princess?” she teased, even though she knew she did exactly that.
Raistlin smiled quietly, knowing what she did. He held out a hand to her, which she took. She dropped out of her chair, sitting on her legs as she kissed the back of his hand and held it to her cheek like a beloved object. He sighed at her gesture, closing his eyes and reveling in her affection. He took the hand she was cuddling and smoothed it over her dark hair. Looking down, he could see her looking back up at him, a small smile lighting up her face. It warmed him, feeling her love and adoration for him, only him. It could overwhelm him if he let it; instead he absorbed it like the energy for his magic. It strengthened him so he could carry on another day.
“Come. Sit, Shareene,” he instructed. “I have something for you.” Raistlin reached into a secret pocket and took out another pouch and laid it in her hands. “Open it.”
Her fingers picked open the bag and she emptied the contents into her palm. What tumbled out was a silver chain with a charm strung on it. She picked it up delicately by the chain, revealing a small dragon claw cast in silver, clutching a round clear crystal. A near perfect replica of the claw that sat on the top of his staff. “It’s beautiful, Raistlin,” she breathed.
He pulled out a small slip of parchment and handed it to her. “This will protect you when I’m not around,” he explained. “It is enchanted with a few minor spells for defense. Here are the words and what they do.”
She took the offered piece of paper and opened it, the necklace dangling for her fingers. He got up while she was reading, and with a few whispered words of magic he fastened it around her neck. His fingers lingered over her neck and shoulders, knowing the enchantment was completShe She leaned back into his touch, feeling the tingle of the spell off his fingertips, feeling the charm grow warm instead of a metallic cold.
“I don’t have to tell you that danger is brewing. My time here in this town grows short.” His fingers start to comb through her hair. “I will send you escort out of here. I do not know if he will arrive before this town falls or not, but he is under my charge and will see you get out of here safe.”
She folded the paper away. “I take it that it’s not your brother then?”
Raistlin smirked. “No. Not him. He has … other concerns. No, this one I can control. He will give you quick transport to Palanthas, where you will wait for me.”
“Palanthas?” she gasped. “On the other side of the continent? How? And how can I afford to live there, let alone get there?”
He gently hushed her. “Keep that pouch that held the charm. It will provide for you with the money you need each day.” Taking the bag, he tossed one steel piece in it. “Now, look inside.” She took it back, and inside was ten steel pieces. “Those are not illusions, it is real. And at the end of the day, you will need at least one steel piece in there to keep the spell going. It will cover everything you need until I return.”
Shareene was speechless for a moment. “I don’t know what to say but thank you.” She got up from the chair and threw her arms around him, holding him tight, her head pressed against his neck. He was momentarily surprised, but then he held her just as tight against him, leaning his head into her hair. Sighing, he thought to himself that he could remain like this forever.
She let her arms slide down to his waist and he looked down to her face as they parted slightly. He leaned down to kiss her softly, letting the warmth of this simple act run through him. Parting again, he could hear her sigh, driving more of that warmth through his being. “You have done so much for me,” he whispered, “more than you’ll ever realize. I will not allow harm to come to you. To do so would be a damning error on my soul, and I could not forgive myself of that crime. Promise me that you will take my servant’s hand and meet me in Palanthas. Promise me that you’ll be waiting for me there.”
He could see the tears starting to well in her eyes. “Only death could keep me away from you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. Her mention of death disturbed him but he cast it aside. “I will be there, waiting for you. I promise.”
He kissed her gently on the forehead. “Can you speak the words on that paper?”
She nodded. “I can. They are simple enough.”
“Good.” He kissed her softly on the lips again. “I’m sorry I cannot remain for the night. I could use your company after the grudging work I have done. But there is more ahead of me before the war is over. Much more. Once I know you are far away from here I can concentrate on what I must do. You’re too close to Neraka, and the Queen of Darkness is on the rise there. She wants to make her return there soon, and unfortunately my companions are unwittingly helping her with the final key. I must be there to prevent her return.
“Butnow now before that happens, this place will be razed to the ground. It could be tonight, it could be tomorrow. But it’s very soon. They are going to need me back at the camp, because what they’re trying to do is all in vain. I’m not trying to frighten you, I’m trying to prepare you for what lies ahead.”
Shareene nodded, taking in everything he said. He could feel her slightly shaking in his arms, but her face was pure bravery. She’s not afraid for herself, he thought to himself. She’s afraid for me.
Raistlin rubbed her back reassuringly. “I must go, love. Be prepared to leave soon.” One long, final kiss and they let go.
She followed him down the stairs, to the door of the inn and showed him out as they put on the act of “client and servant”. Once she turned around, the owner was standing in front of her. He was so close the unwashed smell of him was threatening to make her eyes water. “I’m surprised someone like that has the stamina left to finish so quickly,” he grunted. She narrowed her eyes in anger at him. “At least you’re smart enough, or foolish enough, to take on such a freak.” Her fingers curled into fists in the folds of her skirt. “Where’s the pay?”
She slipped a steel piece out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Here, since it was a quick job,” she said flippantly.
He looked at the coin, obviously unhappy with the small pay. Then he noticed her necklace. “What’s this? A gift?”
Shareene clamped a hand around her charm. “You can’t take this,” she warned. “This is for me alone.”
“I takes what I wants,” he snarled, ripping her hand away. As soon as his fingers curled around the dragon claw, a searing pain shot down his arm. He screamed in agony as he snatched his hand away and buried it in his apron. The charm burned him as if he stuck his whole arm into the fireplace. She could almost smell the burned flesh over his unclean scent.
He limped away and into the kitchen. Some of the barmaids followed, curious over what had happened and shooting dark looks in her direction. She ignored them and then nearly laughed as she noticed the steel coin on the floor, dropped and forgotten in his hasty retreat.
Shareene picked it up, knowing that it would be the one coin she would keep each day.
****************************************************************************
As he left the inn, Raistlin spotted a small group of soldiers milling about. He stormed up to them, his stare alone grabbing their attention. “Why aren’t you back at the barracks?” he snarled.
“We are under orders to search for deserters, Sir Mage,” the leader responded.
“I was not informed of this. That job is for the draconians. And you won’t find anyone by standing here. Get out of here, now!” Many of them flinched under his barking of orders and left. Only one remained.
“Explain to me why you’re still here, soldier?” he hissed.
The young man stammered for a moment then found his voice. “That woman that was at the door just a moment ago….”
Raistlin’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What about her? Speak!”
He swallowed hard. “I … we heard rumors …. That you have taken favor with one of the serving wenches there. I didn’t think ….”
“You are not paid to think,” he spat out. “And my private life is none of your business.”
“Yes, Sir. But why her? The others are much more willing to ….”
And then the soldier realized he just made a terrible mistake.
In a flash, he saw fire burning in the mage’s twisted eyes before he was flung into a dark alley by an unseen hand. He landed hard against the brick wall, the wind knocked out of him. Before he could recover, a golden hand clamped around his throat preventing him to draw in air. The mage, seemingly small and frail just a moment ago, now loomed over him and had the strength of ten draconians.
The soldier’s vision was turning red from the lack of air, but still those amber eyes burned with a fury he could see clearly in the haze. “Are you the one?” His voice was barely human now. “Are you the one that raped my flower?”
The grip loosened a moment to let the soldier speak. “I did not,” he gasped hard. “She wouldn’t do what she was paid for …. No experience …. I showed her, taught her what her proper place was ….”
The grip resumed, harder this time. “You forced yourself on her, animal. You will not go unpunished.” A flick of his wrist, and six inches of steel was imbedded in the soldier’s stomach. Magic flowed through the blade to keep him alive. “You had the misfortune of hurting the one thing that I care for in this world. You won’t hurt another thing in your life again. You wished to serve the Queen? You shall now … in her Abyss.” His last word came out as a hiss. He twisted the blade, then ripped it out, letting the blood rain down his hands and robes. He released the grip around the man’s throat, letting the lifeless body fall to the ground.
Raistlin stared at the dead soldier at his feet without any emotion, as if detached from his own body. His anger was spent once he felt the life pour out of the man, and now he felt nothing. He could feel the warm stickiness dripping from his hand, making his robes cling to his legs, could almost see the gore drip down the blade shaped like a dragon’s tail. Just like the dragon in his hand, he struck with purpose and swift accuracy. He realized at that moment that he would never have moved as such for another unless he needed them for some purpose. He made a vow to kill the person that hurt her, and now it was fulfilled. He marveled over how simple it was to restore her honor in one act, knowing he did that out of pure love of her.
A few whispered words and his robes were now clean, the blade shining and perfect. Storing it back inside the sheath of his arm, a few more words and the body was consumed in fire. All traces of the kill was gone, including the blood that was starting to seep into the groundnd ond once that was gone, so was he.

After the incident of her charm, Shareene found herself more alone than before. The word flew everywhere that she was now the possession of the odd black mage, bewitched by him and was now tainted. The simple folk could understand swords and brute strength, but magic was more of a danger to them because they couldn’t wrap their minds around the concept.
It didn’t bother her at first, being used to that kind of behavior when she was a child. The people of Solace treated her the same way when she expressed interest in Raistlin. The only others she talked to was his brother and the strange half elf after that. Sometimes the kender would tag along until he was told to go away.
But it didn’t help when she went out and tried to buy some food or clothes for her trip. It was hard enough to sneak out, but once they saw her approach doors were locked. They would not have a witch darken their door. She would return tired, hungry, and empty handed. If she wanted anything, it would have to wait till she left the town.
One day came and went without sign of the mage’s servant or the uprising. Shareene mentally cursed herself for not asking whom it would be, but then she also figured that whoever it was would know her by the pendant around her neck. Every time she passed a mirror she would stare at the charm, watching the crystal in its grip glow with an inner light. Each time she touched it she could swear it pulsed with energy, like a heartbeat. She adored the charm as much as the person that gave it to her.
Since the inn was dead and people were avoiding her that night, she remained in her room and committed the words he wrote to memory. She knew she couldn’t test them all to make sure she got it right, but she did try one. She stepped on top of the bed, said the words as she held onto the charm, and let herself fall off backwards. She felt very light and drifted to the floor gently instead of crashing hard. It would have to be enough to assure her she learned the words correctly.
The next day was too quiet, even for her. It threatened to drive her insane if she stayed inside her room again. Shareene dared to show her face downstairs again. As she entered the barroom, she saw that no one noticed her approaching. The tension was too thick for her to ignore. It wasn’t directed ar, br, but at the silence outside.
Every sense was awake now as she walked to the window facing the main road. The streets were utterly dead. No one went outside. They were all probably staring out the window, waiting for something to happen just like they were. She looked everywhere, only her eyes moving, afraid to move just to breathe. If there was a sudden noise, she would drop in fear.
Then she heard something faint in the distance. A small roar, the sound of thunder in the distance. On the horizon dust and lightning could be seen. Her heart started to race, fear gripping her as she clutched the charm.
The riots had begun.
****************************************************************************
The human soldiers in the camps started talking among themselves as the word flew. One of their own was missing. Some thought he deserted the troop, others thought he got into a brawl somewhere and was killed. But those that were with him last said he was last seen with the strange war mage.
An inquiry was called among the mages. Raistlin said simply that the soldier threatened him and he “corrected” him. Since the mages knew of the instability in the soldiers they took his word as truth. Harshness in dealing with corrections was common among the mages of black robes and was rarely questioned. Death was a perfect means to getting rid of a problem, and what he did was normal of their order. The matter was closed.
The soldiers were outraged. Once they heard the inquiry was dismissed, the tension began to grow in the ranks. They started to refuse the food handed out at camp, realizing the mages were tampe wit with it. The potions they were fed were starting to fade in their systems. To compensate for their hunger, they drowned their stomachs with ale. Their drunken stupor worked for them, as now the spells couldn’t affect them anymore. Anything the mages tried to cast was now useless. And now that the men could defeat the mages’ efforts in controlling them, they attacked.
There was nothing that could be done to stop them except for outright slaughter. The general knew it would be his head that would fall last when all was done, but he would be damned if he didn’t take a few out personally. He ordered the mages and clerics out, for they were the only ones that could make the draconians for the Queen’s army. He then called out those very beasts to do as they wished with the deserters. Racing out to where the blue dragons were resting, he found all of them wide awake. Some were still coughing up lightning bolts to kill any human that dared jumped on its back. His personal mount recognized her rider and allowed him to approach. Now seated on the saddle, he told the other dragons to fly on towards Neraka. With a flurry of wings they flew away, leaving him and his dragon to clean up.
Some of the soldiers were smart enouo sto steal the horses instead of the dragons. They rode into town with swords flashing. Others ran instead and grabbed whatever they found that would feel like a weapon in their hands. It was at that time the folk flew out of their houses, screaming in terror, and quickly brought down in a swipe of steel or an arc of wood. The soldiers grabbed torches and started to burn the town down, laughing with glee as some people came out in flames. Instead of water, they flung wine at them, making them burn faster.
Shareene watched with tears streaming out of her eyes. She had no love of these people, but they didn’t deserve this. She backed away from the window, turning to the others to order them out of the building. The place was a tinderbox, and with all the ale that has soaked into the floor over the years it could go up fast. The owner was frozen in fear and couldn’t hear her screaming at him to run. The girls clung to each other, their expression was of hope. They actually believed their men were coming to rescue them.
There was a shattering of glass as a torch spiraled into the room. As soon as it hit the floor the room sparked into a roaring fire. It was then the girls and the owner screamed. A few of the soldiers stormed in, igniting a few more blazes and laughing at the frightened women. These men were not the ones they were expecting and their cheer quickly turned to panic. The soldiers didn’t care who they were waiting for. They grabbed them and hauled them out forcibly, never to be seen again.
Shareene slipped into the kitchen before they noticed her, looking for any kind of weapon she could find. Broomstick, no they would slice through that. She found one of the larger knives and grabbed that. Looking around again, she found the lid of one of the barrels. It would have to do as a shield for now. She heard more soldiers storm the building, looking for more entertainment. Smiling wickedly at her blade, she hoped to take a few with her before they even touched her.
Bursting out of the room, she rammed one soldier with the makeshift shield, the element of surprise working to her advantage as she slashed at his throat with the knife. Before his body hit the floor, one of the men recovered from the shock and turned to attack. She threw the knife, only to have it graze his arm instead of dealing a real blow. She quickly bent over to grab the fallen man’s sword and hefted it. It was much heavier than what she practiced with before and had to drop the lid in order to lift the blade. The men grinned evilly as they saw she couldn’t handle it well. The one charged and started to swing. She blocked it with a yell of effort, the force actually shoving him away, her arms jarred painfully from the colliding steel. Ignoring the pain, she gritted her teeth and awaited the next attack.
These two swaggered around her while the building burned around them. She realized they were playing games with her, knowing she wasn’t strong enough to wield the blade for a long time. They wanted to see how long she could last. If she wanted to survive at all, she had to get out of the building before it landed around her head. Someone had to make a move, and she knew if it was left to her she wouldn’t make it. Shareene wanted to cast something at them, but she couldn’t drop the blade. They would take her head off before she got the words out.
One of them noticed the shift in her shoulders and attacked. She blocked him as best she could, finding the strength in her to force him to back off. The other charged from behind, and she spun out of the way, making her closer to the door. She stood with her back to the door, sword raised again as they slowly approached her. They were starting to learn she wasn’t just some wench behind the bar, that she had some training with a blade. They were coming closer but with some caution to their step, which would buy her some time to recover. She lowered the blade then and clasped the charm in her hand, whispering the same thin words that she heard her beloved speak. The men now stopped as they realized what she was doing. They stared in horror as she wore no robes of color, but there was no mistaking the spark of magic forming in what was left of the air. They were fighting the mage’s witch woman. The one recovered and ran to kill her before it was done, but he was too late.
The spell was cast, filling the room with bright light. The wave of energy knocked the running soldier over, but the tip of his blade managed to cut her thigh open. She fell in shock, everything passing by her eyes in slow motion as she saw the two men engulfed in the white light, the explosion deafening her before she even hit the floor.
****************************************************************************
All the mages had left the area save one. Raistlin moved swiftly to the inn, where he knew Shareene would be. His servant did not arrive in time to take her away before the uprising, and he cursed him to the Abyss and back for his tardiness. It was up to him to get her away before the general’s dragon arrived and finished the job.
He hid among the draconians, making it seem as if he was controlling them and ordering them to certain spots. He knew the aurak was the real one in charge, but it was a clever enough rouse to keep suspicion down. Taking one of the sivaks as a bodyguard, he tore down the streets looking for the inn.
Finally reaching what remained of the inn, the fear build up inside of him. There was still something left of the building and he ordered the draconian to follow him. Inside there was a blinding flash, and then the loud explosion followed, nearly knocking him to the ground. She was still inside, the spell told him that much, but the sound threatened to bring what was left of the inn down on her. The door was still swinging open, caught a quick glimpse of a body lying on the floor. He flung it wide and nearly ch on on the black smoke rolling out. As he fought to regain control on his body, he saw that the person on the floor was Shareene. He pointed to her and the sivak obeyed his unspoken command. Gently the beast picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the building. Once the smoke cleared he could see what remained of her attackers, and smiled wickedly. He was suddenly very proud of her at that moment, and then turned to run away from the rapidly burning remains. The two got a few yards away before it collapsed in a rain of burning wood and sparks.
Raistlin directed the sivak to lay her down on the ground and to rejoin his comrades in the battle. For the draconian’s reward, he could do whatever he wished with any of the soldiers that deserted camp. With a shriek, it ran off back to the battle, drowning his blade in his acidic spittle with glee.
Kneeling down, he touched the staff to her lengthwise and then pulled his cape up over them. With a few words they disappeared from the street and reappeared in the hills that ran the length of the town. They were now inside a cave far away from the chaos. The coughing resumed for a few moments, leaving him breathless and tired. He fought to clear his head to assess the situation.
The strength of the spell must have knocked her out. She looked as if she was asleep if it wasn’t for the large gash in her leg. The blood was starting to slow, but there was a great risk of reopening or infection. Taking a pouch from his belt, he emptied the contents onto his handkerchief and tied it around the wound. He had to wait for the healing herbs to be absorbed by her skin before he sealed it shut. Stroking her hair, he whispered to her softly, calling her back to wakefulness.
Shareene did awaken, very slowly. Her eyes met his and she smiled, relief showing on her face that they were both all right. She could see his lips moving but she couldn’t hear the words. She stared at him blankly, wondering why he wasn’t speaking. He would stop, his brows furrowing, then tried again. She still didn’t hear anything coming from him. She started to panic, shaking her head rapidly and making herself dizzy from the movement.
Raistlin petted her cheek to calm her down. “Can you hear me? Anything at all?” he repeated, but the fear in her eyes told it all. As his hand slipped behind her head to make her lay down again, he felt a warm stickiness on the side of her head. Pulling it away, he saw blood on his hand. He pulled her hair away; saw that her ears were bleeding from by the explosion the spell had caused. Cursing himself that she would use the most powerful spell in an enclosed area, he realized she just deafened herself. He didn’t know if it was permanent or reversible, and there were only two people he knew of that could heal her, but they were nowhere nearby. He didn’t have the ability to heal, and he knew he couldn’t rely on the dark clerics he worked with. They dealt with destruction, never with healing. This was something a cleric of Paladine or Mishakal could do, not them.
It wasn’t like he could come up to Goldmoon or Elistan or any of that faith, with him now wearing black robes, and tell them to heal his lover. They didn’t trust him before, why would they believe him asking for help, especially for someone he cared abo The They didn’t think he could care about anything except for himself. He could feel the tears threatening to roll down his face, and dug his fingers into his hands. Instead of despairing, he laid his hand on her forehead and opened a telepathic link to her. You’re safe now, Shareene, he spoke in his mind. He could see her start to panic again and he stilled her shaking head between his hands. No, don’t do that. The spell you cast, it has made you deaf. This is the only way I can speak to you now. If you start to shake your head, you’ll only make your wounds worse.
“Where are we?” she said. The words felt right, at least she could feel the vibration in her head that she actually said something.
We’re up in the hills that surround what’s left of the town. You did well in defending yourself back there. I blame myself that I didn’t warn you of the spells’ effects. She was about to speak again, but he gently placed a finger on her lips. Save your strength. Think the words in your mind and I can hear you.
It seemed strange to her, but she tried. DO YOU HEAR ME?
Raistlin flinched. No, no. Think like you’re talking, don’t try so hard.
She closed her eyes, sighing as she tried again. How is this?
Now you have it. He smiled reassuringly at her.
Am I going to be deaf forever? Is this the only way we’ll be able to speak to each other now? Tears threatened to flow as he could feel her despair take over.
He stroked her cheek, trying to calm her down. I do not know. I know nothing of the healing arts, just enough for battlefield triage. The best bet we have is to find a cleric of Mishakal now. I cannot, they would try to kill me on the spot, he explained as he gestured to his robes. A former companion of mine, she has brought back true healing to the world again. She’s converting people to follow in the path of the gods. Hopefully you can find a new temple dedicated to Mishakal in Palanthas. If their faith is true, you will hear again.
She sighed audibly. I don’t think I could bear never hearing your voice again.
He chuckled, though he didn’t feel it. And what are you hearing now? The gods are speaking in your mind instead of me?
Don’t be coy. You know exactly what I mean.
I do, love. I do. Raistlin leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. Now, rest. I’m going to be outside watching.
She sat up too fast, obviously dizzy as she clutched her head and tried to balance herself. Let me come with you, she asked. It was squalor, but it was still my home.
He didn’t think she could stand up, let alone walk, but he knew how determined she could be. Taking his staff, he stood up first and then helped Shareene up. With a spoken word he transferred the staff to her hand and wrapped the other arm around his back. Hobbling slowly to the edge of the cave so she didn’t make herself sick, he then propped her up against the wall, and they watched the final minutes of the town’s life.
By then, the general and his blue dragon had entered town. There were a few people from the village scrambling for the hills or the river, but there weren’t many left. The streets were filled with the bodies of soldiers, draconians, and the townsfolk. Most of the buildings were gone, but the ones made of stone and clay were still standing. The dragon would make short work of them in a matter of moments. What was left of the draconian army marched away for the general to clean up.
Shareene couldn’t hear the shrieks of the men or of the dragon just before she let loose a barrage of lightning, but the dragonfear ripped through her and terrified her, making her fingers dig into the stone wall and the wood of the staff. She had never seen a dragon before in her life, and she wished never to see another beast like that again. Tracoraconians were just abominations against man. But these, the first children of the gods, were god like themselves. Something that large should not be able to fly, and yet they do, sometimes more graceful than the very birds that seem more natural in the sky. Breathing the elements like storm clouds, magic without words at their talons. The true representation of the gods right before her eyes. She didn’t know whether to run away or to worship the blue beast.
Raistlin could almost taste her fear as it transmitted to him through his link to her. He read everything she was thinking, and there was nothing he could do to calm or reassure her. Dragonfear affected everyone differently, and one could either master it or cower. She was the first to ponder it, look at it from every angle to try and make sense of it all. To give it purpose and a name. A rare trait that he never known in anyone else. He rested a hand on her shoulder, a small comfort to be sure, but he knew of no other way to be comforting at this moment. Being in these companies, he was getting used to being around the great beasts, learning their abilities and personalities. There were times he was able to control them with the dragon orb he secreted away on his person. The dragonfear was not as strong as it was the first time he saw them, and knowing he had control over them helped.
Her shoulder shook under his hand as she silently watched the rest of the town destroyed by the dragon. Quietly the tears rolled down her face as she knew it was pretty much over now. She hated being there, so far away from the idyllic life she once had in Solace. But she felt sorry for the people that died for no real reason. Killed for the fancy of insane men. A waste of life. No point or meaning. Just destruction and evil in its purest form. She turned away, hobbling a few steps back into the cave before she eased herself back down to the ground, the staff propped on her shoulder making it look like it was holding her into a sitting position.
Raistlin turned away, having seen enough. The people that managed to escape would not find their hideaway, so he knew they were safe for a while. His absence would be noticed, but he couldn’t leave her vulnerable as she was. She needed water and her wounds tended to, the ones he could take care of at least. I have to find you some provisions, he thought to her. Stay here and keep your guard up. No one should be able to find this cave but I’m not leaving it to chance. Seeing her nod carefully, he used his transport spell again to appear near the remains of the camp.
The area was completely abandoned. Everything was in the same place before the riots began, untouched, unpacked. He picked through the crates of food, knowing what was ensorcelled and what was clean. Grabbing a sack he started to throw what food was left that they could both live on. Searching again, he found the barrels of water and quickly filled a few canteens in them. A few rags were strewn about. Digging through them he found some that were clean and still intact and stuffed them in the sack. Thinking this was all he would need to care for her, he spoke the words again and appeared back in the cave.
The exertion of casting this difficult spell rapidly was draining his body and the familiar tightening of his chest threatened to weaken him more. Dropping the sack, he sank to his knees and started to choke on the coughing. She saw him return and fall and rushed as best as she could to his side, rustling through the bag and retrieving one of the canteens. The cave was used before for someone traveling and a few sticks of wood and pieces of flint were littered about. She rushed to get the fire going so she could start heating the water for him. Once she was able to get that started, Shareene crawled back and rummaged on his belt for the right pocket, as he was unable to. She recognized it by scent and tore it off the belt. She also found the mug he always carried around with him. Dumping the water and the herbs in, she set it into the fire and hoped it would brew quickly. Keeping her eye on Raistlin, she saw him shake less, his head hung over weakly and his shoulders slowly heaving. Grabbing the hot mug and ignoring the pain, she rushed over to get him to drink.
Shareene wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him against herself to a sitting position, placing the cup in his hand. Slowly regaining his senses, Raisttrietried to drink the half brewed tea. He was too weak to try heating it magically, he used up every reserve he had to get the saf safety and find provisions. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could laugh at the irony. Here he was trying to protect and take care of her, and yet she had to hold him up like a rag doll so he could take his medicine. Fate had a perverted sense of making people realize how much they needed each other in the time of crisis.
Once he downed the last of the potion and could breathe as normally as he could, Raistlin shifted so that she didn’t have to hold him up anymore. In her rushing the wound on her leg reopened, the makeshift bandage now soaked with blood. Once she noticed where his eyes were did she look, and then felt the pain race up her leg. She didn’t cry out, just bit her lip silently. Though he was tired, he knew he had to cauterize it now before she bled too much. She already lost enough blood as is.
Digging out the extra rags and another water bottle, Raistlin pulled her wounded leg out and ripped off the remains of the bandage. Placing a metal rod in the fire, he started to clean the area so he could see where the cut was. Luckily the skin was the only thing torn, not the muscles underneath. She would need them later in her flight west of here. Taking the cooler end of the metal, he winced when he felt her fear again. I’m sorry, but I have to seal this. He took a different rag and handed it to her. Bite into this, it will hurt more than you expect. She did so, breathing hard through her nose. Clamping the wound together, he quickly slid the glowing rod across it. She didn’t cry out at all but the tears were streaming down her face. Examining her leg and satisfied it sealed properly, he washed the area again as she spat the rag out, gasping as the last of the pain faded.
He took the wet rag and started to mop her face, wiping the soot and tears away, trying to soothe her into calming down. He never broke his eyes away from hers; giving her a soft reassuring look as he felt her muscles relax. Gently he cleaned the blood away from the sides of her head, letting the damp trail down her neck to cool her. Shareene’s eyes started to flutter shut as the fighting and the loss of blood weakened her. He handed her the bottle and she drank heavily from it. He had to slow her down before she cramped up. Stroking her hair, he whispered in his mind, it will be fine, I promise. You need to relax and save your strength. There’s a long journey ahead of you, and you need to be rested before you go.
I wish you could go with me, she thought back to him. He could feel her leaden words speak of her fatigue more than anything else.
I wish I could too. But I’ll be with you soon, I promise. He got her as comfortable as he could, taking his cape off and spreading it over her like a blanket.
As Raistlin watched her sleep, he felt someone approach the mouth of the cave, knowing who it was without turning around. “You’re late,” he growled.
“I’m sorry,” the man said carefully. “There were other matters that were more… pressing.”
The mage stood up and walked over to the man. “You might have other matters, but I’m the one you have to answer to in the end.” He took out a small glowing marble and held it in his palm. The man stared at it with greed, then snapped out of it once Raistlin’s fingers curled over it again. “Remember, you can make it easy or hard on yourself. Either way doesn’t matter to me, but it might to you.”
The man seemed to snarl but reined it in, not wanting to show that the mage had him where he wanted him. “What is it that you request of me, master?”
“The girl needs safe passage to Palanthas. She is to wait for me there until I return. But she has gone deaf and she needs the healing touch of a cleric, either there or along the way.”
The man laughed, almost sounding like a soft hiss. “A cleric, of blue? And I am supposed to approach one of the blue goddess’ own? Even on such a…noble…mission? They would detect me as for what I truly am and try to strike me down.”
“You should only fear me in such matters,” Raistlin warned. “If they don’t have the dragonlance, I’m sure you can survive on a few nicks of a blade.”
“Such confidence you have in me. Tell me, what will you do if I should decide not to do this quest?”
The mage shrugged. “She is protected by my magic. Do anything to harm her, even to just abandon her, and you will regret having done so…very slowly. You know what I’m capable of, correct? Do you doubt my words?”
He stood there for a moment, his green eyes seething with a contained anger. “I shall do as you ask. For to do so would be to my advantage.” With a sigh that sounded more like a snarl, he continued in a gentler tone. “How am I to grant her this passage? Does she know what I am?”
“She will soon enough. You’ll be a terrible fright to her, but I want her there as soon as possible. Which means flight. Boats and caravan will take too long, and you’ll scare the horses,” he said with a wry smile.
The stranger smiled. “They wouldn’t fear long. But people will question why a tail and scraps of hoof is all that remains of the beasts. All right, I will carry her. I take it you are traveling on to Neraka after this.”
Raistlin nodded. “You know as well do do that I must be there. Someone has to shut the door.”
“Yes,” he answered, the “s” trailing in his sentence. “My Queen has gone too far this time and someone must stop her. I am rather surprise that the gods have chosen you, but then again life is filled with surprises, so I hear.”
“Your voice of faith is highly assuring,” the mage responded sarcastically. “And we waste time with our banter. Let me wake her and I’ll get you two acquainted.” He walked over to Shareene’s sleeping form and gently stroked her hair. Wake up, Shareene, he thought to her. My servant has arrived; it’s time for you to go.
She felt horribly foggy in her mind, her mouth dried shut with her fatigue. Her eyes focused on his slowly, then a smile spread across her face. She reached up to stroke his cheek, which he allowed one brush then grabbed her hand before she showed too much affection in front of the stranger. Come, he whispered to her, it’s time for you to go.
Who is it, Raistlin? He moved to the side so she could have a clear view of his servant. There was something about him that set her at ill ease. Shareene stared at him as he approached, walking so that he was a few feet away with the fire to one side. And then she saw what made her uneasy and nearly screamed in fear.
The man’s shadow was not of a human, but a dragon.
To be continued….
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A Book of Roses - Book 2