AN: I've always been really intrigued by this part of the plot and I wished they'd told us more about it in the books. Also, there's this great Russian musical called The Last Trial, based on Legends. It's on YouTube. You should watch it. Anyway, please review.
She could see again; Crysania knew she was dreaming. Perhaps it was a nightmare, for she found herself wandering in the Abyss. She met no other creatures as she walked, but whichever way Crysania turned, she found herself headed toward a stake and a scaffold. At first she tried to turn away from these; she recognized them and had no wish to recall the events surrounding the any further. However, finally, she reasoned that this strange dream was a message sent by Paladine and he willed her to reach the platform. And so she walked.
There were no traces of her near death here, no firewood or binding rope remained. This place does not remember, but she did: a woman burning with ambition more deadly than the fire that scorched her body. That woman had died here.
But why would Paladine bring her here? Crysania wondered, as she slowly circled the platform. A reminder of her sin, but she was forgiven, was she not?
"You." She heard a voice behind her. Since losing her sight, Crysania could recognize people's voices much better, but even if she could still see, she would know its owner. She recalled it, twisting its way inter here head setting her ambitions on fire and its serpentine whisper as she lay dying, begging him to stay, "Farewell."
Raistlin's voice.
Crysania turned to face him, feeling her heart beat against her ribs, "I am dreaming, you're not really here." But she said it more to convince herself, and she did not entirely believe this.
Her mind, if it is her mind, had not forgotten Raistlin's likeness. The bone white hair, the golden skin and those eyes, with their mocking stare seeming to tear into her soul. Crysania had though many times of what she would say if she could meet the Mage again, and she had imagined many different speeches, yet, they all deserted her now.
"Yes. You are dreaming. And so am I. Yet this conversation is still taking place." I am neither alive nor dead. The closest word to describe my condition is sleep. And in sleep, one can dream."
"Then, you are not tortured?" She had told his brother that Raistlin would be protected form the Dark Queen as a reward for his sacrifice but she had secretly wondered about her claim.
"Tortured?" Under his tone is the sneering laughter she had heard so often. "I exist in this half conscious state, until the end of time. I cannot die, nor can I return to Kyrnn. Is this torture? Perhaps. On occasion I dream." He seemed to forget her, talking more to himself.
"I see my brother, going about his simplistic life. I am merely an observer in those- but you!" He focused on her again with an interrogating gaze, "Why you, of all people on Ansalon? You were nothing to me!" But his voice caught slightly as he uttered the last statement.
Why indeed? Crysania looked out at the barren landscape of the Abyss. Why can I not leave behind my past? Yet of course she knew the answer. She had always known, at least in her heart.
"Raistlin, I," she began, faltering at first. "I loved you. Yes, scoff at me, laugh at my 'weakness' as you did in life, but you were the first person I ever truly loved. Not only romantically, although I did in that sense." Her voice grew stronger and she held his gaze unwaveringly.
"You brought me outside myself. I would have given anything, my life, for you. Unknowingly, you taught me compassion; something I did not have in all the years I served my god. Thank you."
Raistlin pulled his robes closer around himself, in a familiar gesture. "My actions produced some good; Paladine works in mysterious ways." He seemed unaffected by her outpouring of words.
"I love you still," Crysania added softly, feeling sleep and it's blindness return.
Some expression flickered in the archmage's eyes- longing? She couldn't say.
Suddenly she was awake, alone and staring into darkness. She felt, or thought she did, the ghost of a hand briefly caress her cheek and a heard a whisper in her mind, "Farewell."
