Disclaimers: I own none of the characters, except Mora, in this story.
Note to the Readers:
In my story, I will attempt to give you another version of Raistlin's past and another reason for Raistlin's unending bitterness. My story picks up in the spring; a few weeks after Raistlin found Caramon and Miranda together (the whole story behind this is in the book, Soulforge, by Margret Weis). In case you don't know, this is before Raistlin has taken his test and is still living in Solace. My fanfic will stay close to the storyline presented in Soulforge, but I will be giving you the part 'missing' from it, or so to speak. I'm not going to give you the story of Soulforge, otherwise if you haven't read it, you won't go out and buy it. (And if you haven't read it, you don't know what your missing; it was one of the best books I've ever read.) I hope to stay close to the character's true personalities, but I'm not the creator of most of them, so please forgive me if I don't measure up to your standards. And if you find that you don't like my story, stop reading it, no one is forcing you to. Much love to Margret Weis and Tracy Hickman, and I hope you enjoy.
The figure walked swiftly through the ally-way and opened the pack she carried on her back. Her name was Mora Taeon. She was on her way to Solace, to live with her aunt who had sent word for her to come, upon hearing of Mora's mother's death. Her mother had been a kind seamstress, who had taught Mora that skill. Her father had died when she was younger, and truly there were no ties holding her back in Haven. Mora paused to adjust the hood of her cloak and stared into the fragment of a mirror that she carried. She smiled as she found the disguise to her liking. The dirt she had smudged on her face masked well the truth of her gender and beautiful features. She squinted her green eyes and grimaced in the fashion, she believed, a boy would make and laughed out loud at the comical face she found staring back.
Mora double-checked the twist of blonde hair tucked in the hood and sighed as she stepped into the crowded street, hoping that the disguise would work. The baggy male clothing she wore hid her feminine body, but she felt as if everyone could see through them and to her lie. She sucked in a deep breath, and walked to the canvas-covered cart that was on its way to Solace. She cleared her throat and the large man who drove it looked down at her.
"Yes, what is it boy?" he asked it a harsh voice.
Mora let out the breathe she had been holding and said in a low voice, "Yes, I would like to travel with you to Solace. I can pay," she said, accenting her words with a shake of a money pouch," and I will work for you until we get there."
"The roads aren't that safe from here to Solace these days." he said roughly.
"I'm aware of that," she said, "I don't ask for your protection. Just a ride."
"Well, whether you want protection or not, you'll need to be able to protect yourself."
Mora shook her head," Don't concern yourself with me, I will be fine." she sat back a moment, letting her offer sink in, "So, do we have a deal?"
The big man nodded, "But we need to leave right now. I'm George," said the man, "We're carrying supplies to sell to the people of Solace, and if I catch you stealing from me, I'll cut off your hands."
"Michael," she replied, "and you don't have to worry, I'm not a thief."
Mora jumped into the cart and reclined, thankful that all had gone well, believing that this was a sign that the journey would go just as smoothly, but not everything in life is so easy.
Raistlin sighed as he began his walk to the school of magic run by Master Theobald. It was spring and the nineteen-year-old 'mage in training' had to keep reminding himself of why he continued to deal with the ignorant man who ran the school. Every day was one filled with Raistlin feeling that somehow he was being cheated out of his arcane education and one filled with him loosing his patience with the younger children whom Master Theobald had him assist.
'I should be in Palthanas, studying with a mage worthy of the robes he wears, not some stupid man, content to live his life teaching snot nosed children how to pronounce their letters!' thought Raistlin bitterly, walking faster so as not to be late.
Although Raistlin didn't exactly enjoy his lessons at the school, he was glad it offered him time away from his brother, Caramon. Raistlin shook his head, thinking back to the conversation he had with Caramon, or , rather the conversation Caramon had tried to have with him.
'Sarcasm is lost to my brother, as is any matter not pertaining to fighting, farming, or girls.' thought Raistlin, with a sardonic smile. Caramon had been babling on about the new fighting techniques Flint had been teaching him and about the weather for farming, both topics which Raistlin had no interest in. Of course, Caramon's topic of discussion had drifted to girls and, of course, the ones that he believed liked Raistlin. Raistlin sneered, thinking of Miranda, the one girl so far that he had felt any attraction towards, and to the way he had found his brother and her entwined. 'No,' he thought angrily, 'I will be better off alone to study and further my true love, magic.' but Raistlin couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for himself.
Raistlin pushed these thoughts from his mind and prepared himself for another normal day in his life. He didn't know how wrong he was.
Mora was not having a good time. She knew that this trip would not be a fun day out, but this was worse then she could have ever imagined. Each night, it was she who was forced to set camp, prepare the meal, and tend to the weary horses. When she was finally finished, she had not much time left to sleep, since George wanted an early start every morning. On the ride, it was so bumpy that trying to sleep resulted in Mora feeling as if she was being dragged to Solace. George was sure holding her true to her agreement. Luckily, they would be in Solace within the night or the next morning, and for that, she was grateful.
As Mora sat in the cart, she opened up her bag removed its contents for the fifth time since she had started the trip. Quickly looking at herself in the mirror to check her disguise, she set this aside and took out a small box wrapped in cloth. She pulled back the lid and lost herself in memory as she gazed at the ring within. She gently touched the only memento of her father and thought back to the day he had given it to her. Her father had been a mage of the white robes and had presented her with this ring the day he lay in his deathbed. Speaking the words of command, which only she knew, the wearer could cast lightening bolts from his or her fingertips. Perhaps the only fault the ring had was that after using it three times, the ring had to recharge for a day. Mora didn't like to wear it, though, because the blue white rock in the middle of the ring would call too much attention to a 'boy' on the road. Sighing, Mora replaced the box and mirror to her bag.
Night soon fell, and just as George was pulling the horses over for the night, about ten men walked out of the brush and in front of them. They all had some sort of weapon, and one carried a crossbow.
"Hey, what's this all about? Get out of the way!" shouted George.
"No, fat man, we're not getting out of your way." said the leader of the bunch. He motioned to the other men, and they approached the back of the cart, where Mora was sitting. Having heard the words exchanged, she had slid the ring onto her finger. A moment later, the canvas lining was pulled back, and Mora was pulled out from the cart.
"Jarod, look here," said the one who had her by the arm. He spun her around and before she could stop it, her hood fell back and out tumbled her thick, blonde hair.
"Well, well," said the one called Jarod, "Looks like we got more then just supplies, we also got a wench to go along with it all." He grabbed Mora around the waist and roughly hugged her close. "Take what you will, and then we shall have our turns with the girl." With that, the man with the crossbow shot George threw the heart. The large man fell from his seat and the bandits began their pillaging.
Jarod laughed wickedly, "Come girly," he said, breathing his foul breath onto her neck, "Give us a kiss."
"Fine," said Mora grimly. Blue white bolts of lightening shot out of her hands and pierced Jarod's chest and others pierced the men nearby. Mora shrugged off the dead Jarod. Facing the remaining six men, she pulled out a concealed dagger and threw it into the man closest to her. Then she shouted the words of magic again, and three more dropped down. Mora heard a click and felt a crossbow quarrel pierce her side. Fighting back the waves of pain and nausea, she shouted the words one last time and fell down unconscious.
Raistlin walked down the wooden staircase that spiraled down the great tree, and onto the ground level of Solace. Upon returning home after a day at school, he had decided to visit Mistess Meggin, whom he hadn't seen in quite some time. The old women had taught him all his herb lore and much of the medical knowledge he possessed. Knowing that she would be home, Raistlin walked to her door and knocked, pausing to pet the old gray wolf she kept as a companion.
"Ah, Raistlin, it's good to see you after so long." she chuckled and invited him in.
"Yes, it has been a long time, Mistress Meggin," replied Raistlin with a slight bow. Although Raistlin respected few people, Mistress Meggin was one of them. "I came here to ask you about some combination of herbs I've been working on. You see, I believe..."
After about an hour of discussion on various herbal combinations and a pot of tea, Mistress Meggin sat back. Raistlin looked out the window and, seeing that it had grown dark, quickly rose to leave.
"Thank you," he said starting toward the door. "Although I fear that I've taken too much of your time."
Mistress Meggin smiled. "Oh, don't worry about it. You know I enjoy your visits. Besides, it's nice knowing someone to introduce my Mora to when she arrives."
Raistlin turned around, with a confused expression on his face, "Mora?"
"That's right," Mistress Meggin said with a laugh, "I didn't tell you. My niece from Haven is coming to live with me. She should be arriving tomorrow morning. You'll like her, I believe. She knows some herb lore and her father was a mage of the white order."
Raistlin smiled slightly, interested when he heard that last part about her. Perhaps he might learn something about his art by talking to her.
"I look forward to meeting her. Goodnight, Mistress Meggin."
"Goodnight, Raistlin."
It was in the late hours of the night when there was a knock on the Majere door and a moment later it flew open. Caramon stumbled to entrance of his house, to see who it was. There stood a worried Tasselhoff. Caramon didn't take this as a good sign.
"What's the matter, Tas?" asked Caramon, very much awake now.
"Oh, it's horrible Caramon! There was a fight outside of Solace. I saw the flashes of light! It was so amazing; it looked like a thunderstorm, the kind when there's a loud boom and exposions of light! I couldn't believe it! It wasn't even raining! So I woke Flint--Oh, hullo Raistlin!" greeted Tas as a bedragged Raistlin entered the room, with a frown on his face.
"What is so important that you had to come here in the middle of the night and wake us up?" asked Raistlin as he fixed an irritated glare on the kender.
"If you listened, you would see that I was getting to that. Anyway, I woke Flint up, and he said, 'What are you babbling on about, you doorknob?' and I said 'Look outside your window, Flint, there's beautiful lights and--Gee Raistlin, what's the matter? Your face is all creased, like you ate a lemon, you know, the kind Flint brings back from his trips to Qualinesti-"
"Tas, I think you should just skip to the reason you came here," interrupted Caramon, who could see that Raistlin was one minute away from attacking the kender.
"Fine, but it's a real good story. I'll tell you it later." Tas absently picked up a fork that hadn't been put away after twins' evening meal, and put it in his pouch. Caramon quickly removed it. "Wow, that must have fallen in there. Good thing I was here to catch it." He paused, thinking back to what he had been about to say. "Oh yeah, I came here because Mistress Meggin won't let anyone near her niece whose hurt, and she said she wants you and Caramon to help her right now."
Raistlin's expression went from anger to shock. "What did you say?"
"Well her niece was traveling to Solace-"
"I know that," hissed Raistlin,"Where did this happen?"
"About four miles outside of here. She wants you and Caramon to come because she doesn't trust anyone else to help her niece."
Raistlin nodded and went into his room, quickly donning his robes. Caramon had just pulled on a shirt when Raistlin reappeared. "Make haste, my brother, for Mistess Meggin would not have summoned us unless her niece's wound is serious."
"Sure Raist, but since when did Wierd, er, I mean Mistress Meggin have a niece?"
"Caramon, I have not the time to explain such things to you. Now do as you're told and follow me," Raistlin said coldly as he pushed Tas out the door and walked down the winding stairs to the ground below. Caramon obediently followed and when they reached the bottom, they found two horses waiting for them.
"These are from Mansly, you know, the farmer? He heard that you were summoned so he brought these fellas over here." said Tas, answering the twins' quizzical looks.
Raistlin mounted his with a bit of difficulty, but he refused Caramon's help. Caramon mounted his when he was sure that Raistlin was settled. He reached down and pulled Tas up to sit with him and the trio galloped toward the direction of the battle scene.
"Now common, miss," said the tired dwarf, Flint, "All of us here are the good folk of Solace and all we want to do is help your niece." He approached calmly, but was stopped by the snarling wolf at Mistress Meggin's side. She was kneeling down next to the form of her niece, and was holding a poultice wrap against the wound produced by the arrow protruding from Mora's side. The other men with Flint sighed and stepped back, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Majere brothers that Mistress Meggin had been asking for. Flint grumbled about 'stupid human women' and called out to the men when he heard the horses approaching.
"By Reorx! I thought you'd never get here!" Flint said, running to greet the twins as they dismounted.
"See Flint! I told you I would be a good messenger," said Tas proudly, puffing out his chest.
"We only sent you because we couldn't deal with your mouth flapping any longer!" said Flint gruffly.
" I know you don't mean that," said Tas, not offended at all.
"Where is Mistress Meggin?" asked Raistlin, not concerning himself with greeting the dwarf.
"Down that way, lad." Raistlin went in the direction that Flint had pointed in, with Caramon close behind.
"Why do you think she wanted me to come, Raist?" asked Caramon.
"I don't know, now shut up." he replied.
Upon their arrival, the wolf visibly calmed, as if realizing that they were here to take over. Mistress Meggin looked up and her relief was clearly visible.
"Thank you for coming," she said as she stood up. "I trust Mora in the hands of no man, other then you two. It's good to see you again, Caramon." Caramon mumbled an incoherent reply.
"I need you to carry her," she said to Caramon. "Her wound has stopped bleeding for now, but I will need your help removing the arrow and properly dressing it once we return to my house." she said, now addressing Raistlin. Caramon stood there, dumfounded, as he stared at the arrow sticking out of the girl.
"Get going, if you're here to help!" she shouted at him. Caramon at once picked Mora up and cradled her in his arms, gently easing her into the saddle of the horse as he came up next. Raistlin and Mistress Meggin shared the other horse and they swiftly rode back to Solace, with the old gray wolf in step behind them.
Mistress Meggin opened the door to her home and ushered in the nervous Caramon, who couldn't take his eyes off the human skeleton that seemed to grin at him. He held Mora in his arms, wanting desperately to leave this place as quick as possible, yet wanting to stay because he was worried about the unconscious girl in his arms. He stood waiting as Raistlin cleared off the table in the middle of the room and Mistress Meggin put some water on to boil.
"Lay her down here," instructed the woman. Caramon did and Mistress Meggin smiled, "You have done well. I am sure that when Mora is feeling better, she will pay you a visit and cook you dinner, or something of that sort."
Caramon looked at Raistlin, unsure of what to do. "You heard her. You may leave now. We no longer need your assistance." Caramon nodded and left the house.
"Good, now we can get started on the hard part," said Mistress Meggin. "Lift her up so that I can lay this clothe under her wounded side. Raistlin did this and then helped her cut off the shirt that circled the arrow. Mistress Meggin cleaned the area and inspected the arrow that entered her niece perpendicularly. "Alright, Raistlin, I want you to..."
About an hour later, Mistress Meggin was putting the final touches on the bandages wrapped around Mora's waist. Luckily, the arrow hadn't pierced any organs and the procedure, overall had gone well. Raistlin had learned from firsthand experience how to dress crossbow wounds and Mora hadn't died.
"Raistlin, there are no words of gratitude to express my thanks or any way to for me to repay you."
"The knowlege I have gained from this experiace is enough, Mistress Meggin." Raistlin said politely.
"Of course, once Mora is feeling better you'll have to come see her. I believe she would like to thank the man who helped save her life, and then, perhaps, she will explain the pieces of her story that are missing?" she said with a laugh.
Saying his farewells, Raistlin returned home to sleep.
It was the next day, and the twins were at the table having their morning meal. "Everyone is talking about Mora," Caramon began, shuveling gruel into his mouth. "Last night, Flint, Mansly, Otik, and some other of the men from town, were burying the dead from the attack on the cart. I had gone back to help out, and I saw the bodies, Raist. The looked like the horse that got hit by lightening last spring." he paused, inspecting the empty bowl that sat in front of him. He reached over and poured what was left in the pot into his bowl and took a bite. "Everyone there agreed that there hadn't been a storm last night. They think she might have used magic. What do you think?"
Raistlin pushed the gruel around in his bowl. "I think that all of you are just simple, gullible, townsfolk who believe what you want to believe." he said in a tone of finality, as he rose to gather his books and leave. He felt that there was no reason to tell Caramon the truth that Mora's father was a mage and she might have learned from him
Caramon, not realizing that Raistlin no longer wished to discuss this topic, continued while finishing Raistlin's uneaten food. "Well, either way, everyone is interested in her. So, what did she look like? I couldn't tell, it was too dark."
"How should I know, she was covered in dirt. Why do you care? I thought Miranda was your love." Raistlin said coldly as he opened the door to leave.
"Well, yeah, Raist," said Caramon, not hearing the coldness and bitterness in his brother's voice. "Just curious. Miranda hasn't talked to me in a while. I wonder why."
Raistlin didn't hear the rest of his thoughts, because he had already left for school.
At school, Raistlin found no relief from questions about Mora, since the older students there and Master Theobald had all heard of the way the bandits had died. When school was finally over, Raistlin went straight home, to study his meager spell book and to get away from all the people who suddenly wanted to talk to him.
About a week and a half later, Raistlin was walking home and came across Mistress Meggin, who seemed to be waiting for him.
"Ah, Raistlin," she said as she approached him. "Come over later, Mora wishes to see you and give her thanks."
Raistlin smiled politely and replied, "Thank you for the invitation, I will be over at twilight."
Mistress Meggin nodded happily and walked the other way, in the direction of her home.
Raistlin smiled wryly, curious to see the girl who had the interest of most everyone in Solace.
Raistlin walked to the home of Mistress Meggin. Although Caramon was just as curious over the girl, he didn't ask to come, not wanting to have to ever reenter Mistress Meggin's home.
Mistress Meggin wasn't an attractive woman, and Raistlin highly doubted that the male population of Solace would have any interest in Mora once they saw her appearance. Raistlin felt a bit of sympathy towards her after that thought, knowing what it was like to not be the 'most loved one'. Clearing his mind of such feelings, he knocked on the door. Mistress Meggin answered and the two sat down, waiting for Mora to enter the room. Mistress Meggin handed him a cup of tea and some sweet bread, which Raistlin took but didn't eat, prefering the tea alone.
"Mora, come out." called the older woman. "Raistlin is here."
Raistlin sat patiently, staring intently at the room, which he knew she would be coming from.
Slowly the door opened and the lithe figure of a girl, about the same age as Raistlin, moved slowly towards them. At first, Raistlin couldn't see her face; the light cast a shadow over it. When he did, he felt his breath catch in his throat and his mouth go dry. Mora was the most beautiful person Raistlin had ever seen in his life. Her pale, blonde hair hair hung halfway down her back in tight curls. Her eyes were as green as the emeralds Flint embedded into his jewelry. Raistlin quickly regained his composure and rose to greet her.
Mora regarded him with a calm face, although she had almost gasped at his appearance that had struck her as forcefully as the bolts she cast from her hands. He was truly attractive, and his piercing eyes, that most people found too intense, was his best feature to her.
She smiled kindly and said, "Hello, Raistlin Majere, I am Mora Taeon. It is nice to finally meet you, without being unconscious."
Note to the Readers:
In my story, I will attempt to give you another version of Raistlin's past and another reason for Raistlin's unending bitterness. My story picks up in the spring; a few weeks after Raistlin found Caramon and Miranda together (the whole story behind this is in the book, Soulforge, by Margret Weis). In case you don't know, this is before Raistlin has taken his test and is still living in Solace. My fanfic will stay close to the storyline presented in Soulforge, but I will be giving you the part 'missing' from it, or so to speak. I'm not going to give you the story of Soulforge, otherwise if you haven't read it, you won't go out and buy it. (And if you haven't read it, you don't know what your missing; it was one of the best books I've ever read.) I hope to stay close to the character's true personalities, but I'm not the creator of most of them, so please forgive me if I don't measure up to your standards. And if you find that you don't like my story, stop reading it, no one is forcing you to. Much love to Margret Weis and Tracy Hickman, and I hope you enjoy.
The figure walked swiftly through the ally-way and opened the pack she carried on her back. Her name was Mora Taeon. She was on her way to Solace, to live with her aunt who had sent word for her to come, upon hearing of Mora's mother's death. Her mother had been a kind seamstress, who had taught Mora that skill. Her father had died when she was younger, and truly there were no ties holding her back in Haven. Mora paused to adjust the hood of her cloak and stared into the fragment of a mirror that she carried. She smiled as she found the disguise to her liking. The dirt she had smudged on her face masked well the truth of her gender and beautiful features. She squinted her green eyes and grimaced in the fashion, she believed, a boy would make and laughed out loud at the comical face she found staring back.
Mora double-checked the twist of blonde hair tucked in the hood and sighed as she stepped into the crowded street, hoping that the disguise would work. The baggy male clothing she wore hid her feminine body, but she felt as if everyone could see through them and to her lie. She sucked in a deep breath, and walked to the canvas-covered cart that was on its way to Solace. She cleared her throat and the large man who drove it looked down at her.
"Yes, what is it boy?" he asked it a harsh voice.
Mora let out the breathe she had been holding and said in a low voice, "Yes, I would like to travel with you to Solace. I can pay," she said, accenting her words with a shake of a money pouch," and I will work for you until we get there."
"The roads aren't that safe from here to Solace these days." he said roughly.
"I'm aware of that," she said, "I don't ask for your protection. Just a ride."
"Well, whether you want protection or not, you'll need to be able to protect yourself."
Mora shook her head," Don't concern yourself with me, I will be fine." she sat back a moment, letting her offer sink in, "So, do we have a deal?"
The big man nodded, "But we need to leave right now. I'm George," said the man, "We're carrying supplies to sell to the people of Solace, and if I catch you stealing from me, I'll cut off your hands."
"Michael," she replied, "and you don't have to worry, I'm not a thief."
Mora jumped into the cart and reclined, thankful that all had gone well, believing that this was a sign that the journey would go just as smoothly, but not everything in life is so easy.
Raistlin sighed as he began his walk to the school of magic run by Master Theobald. It was spring and the nineteen-year-old 'mage in training' had to keep reminding himself of why he continued to deal with the ignorant man who ran the school. Every day was one filled with Raistlin feeling that somehow he was being cheated out of his arcane education and one filled with him loosing his patience with the younger children whom Master Theobald had him assist.
'I should be in Palthanas, studying with a mage worthy of the robes he wears, not some stupid man, content to live his life teaching snot nosed children how to pronounce their letters!' thought Raistlin bitterly, walking faster so as not to be late.
Although Raistlin didn't exactly enjoy his lessons at the school, he was glad it offered him time away from his brother, Caramon. Raistlin shook his head, thinking back to the conversation he had with Caramon, or , rather the conversation Caramon had tried to have with him.
'Sarcasm is lost to my brother, as is any matter not pertaining to fighting, farming, or girls.' thought Raistlin, with a sardonic smile. Caramon had been babling on about the new fighting techniques Flint had been teaching him and about the weather for farming, both topics which Raistlin had no interest in. Of course, Caramon's topic of discussion had drifted to girls and, of course, the ones that he believed liked Raistlin. Raistlin sneered, thinking of Miranda, the one girl so far that he had felt any attraction towards, and to the way he had found his brother and her entwined. 'No,' he thought angrily, 'I will be better off alone to study and further my true love, magic.' but Raistlin couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for himself.
Raistlin pushed these thoughts from his mind and prepared himself for another normal day in his life. He didn't know how wrong he was.
Mora was not having a good time. She knew that this trip would not be a fun day out, but this was worse then she could have ever imagined. Each night, it was she who was forced to set camp, prepare the meal, and tend to the weary horses. When she was finally finished, she had not much time left to sleep, since George wanted an early start every morning. On the ride, it was so bumpy that trying to sleep resulted in Mora feeling as if she was being dragged to Solace. George was sure holding her true to her agreement. Luckily, they would be in Solace within the night or the next morning, and for that, she was grateful.
As Mora sat in the cart, she opened up her bag removed its contents for the fifth time since she had started the trip. Quickly looking at herself in the mirror to check her disguise, she set this aside and took out a small box wrapped in cloth. She pulled back the lid and lost herself in memory as she gazed at the ring within. She gently touched the only memento of her father and thought back to the day he had given it to her. Her father had been a mage of the white robes and had presented her with this ring the day he lay in his deathbed. Speaking the words of command, which only she knew, the wearer could cast lightening bolts from his or her fingertips. Perhaps the only fault the ring had was that after using it three times, the ring had to recharge for a day. Mora didn't like to wear it, though, because the blue white rock in the middle of the ring would call too much attention to a 'boy' on the road. Sighing, Mora replaced the box and mirror to her bag.
Night soon fell, and just as George was pulling the horses over for the night, about ten men walked out of the brush and in front of them. They all had some sort of weapon, and one carried a crossbow.
"Hey, what's this all about? Get out of the way!" shouted George.
"No, fat man, we're not getting out of your way." said the leader of the bunch. He motioned to the other men, and they approached the back of the cart, where Mora was sitting. Having heard the words exchanged, she had slid the ring onto her finger. A moment later, the canvas lining was pulled back, and Mora was pulled out from the cart.
"Jarod, look here," said the one who had her by the arm. He spun her around and before she could stop it, her hood fell back and out tumbled her thick, blonde hair.
"Well, well," said the one called Jarod, "Looks like we got more then just supplies, we also got a wench to go along with it all." He grabbed Mora around the waist and roughly hugged her close. "Take what you will, and then we shall have our turns with the girl." With that, the man with the crossbow shot George threw the heart. The large man fell from his seat and the bandits began their pillaging.
Jarod laughed wickedly, "Come girly," he said, breathing his foul breath onto her neck, "Give us a kiss."
"Fine," said Mora grimly. Blue white bolts of lightening shot out of her hands and pierced Jarod's chest and others pierced the men nearby. Mora shrugged off the dead Jarod. Facing the remaining six men, she pulled out a concealed dagger and threw it into the man closest to her. Then she shouted the words of magic again, and three more dropped down. Mora heard a click and felt a crossbow quarrel pierce her side. Fighting back the waves of pain and nausea, she shouted the words one last time and fell down unconscious.
Raistlin walked down the wooden staircase that spiraled down the great tree, and onto the ground level of Solace. Upon returning home after a day at school, he had decided to visit Mistess Meggin, whom he hadn't seen in quite some time. The old women had taught him all his herb lore and much of the medical knowledge he possessed. Knowing that she would be home, Raistlin walked to her door and knocked, pausing to pet the old gray wolf she kept as a companion.
"Ah, Raistlin, it's good to see you after so long." she chuckled and invited him in.
"Yes, it has been a long time, Mistress Meggin," replied Raistlin with a slight bow. Although Raistlin respected few people, Mistress Meggin was one of them. "I came here to ask you about some combination of herbs I've been working on. You see, I believe..."
After about an hour of discussion on various herbal combinations and a pot of tea, Mistress Meggin sat back. Raistlin looked out the window and, seeing that it had grown dark, quickly rose to leave.
"Thank you," he said starting toward the door. "Although I fear that I've taken too much of your time."
Mistress Meggin smiled. "Oh, don't worry about it. You know I enjoy your visits. Besides, it's nice knowing someone to introduce my Mora to when she arrives."
Raistlin turned around, with a confused expression on his face, "Mora?"
"That's right," Mistress Meggin said with a laugh, "I didn't tell you. My niece from Haven is coming to live with me. She should be arriving tomorrow morning. You'll like her, I believe. She knows some herb lore and her father was a mage of the white order."
Raistlin smiled slightly, interested when he heard that last part about her. Perhaps he might learn something about his art by talking to her.
"I look forward to meeting her. Goodnight, Mistress Meggin."
"Goodnight, Raistlin."
It was in the late hours of the night when there was a knock on the Majere door and a moment later it flew open. Caramon stumbled to entrance of his house, to see who it was. There stood a worried Tasselhoff. Caramon didn't take this as a good sign.
"What's the matter, Tas?" asked Caramon, very much awake now.
"Oh, it's horrible Caramon! There was a fight outside of Solace. I saw the flashes of light! It was so amazing; it looked like a thunderstorm, the kind when there's a loud boom and exposions of light! I couldn't believe it! It wasn't even raining! So I woke Flint--Oh, hullo Raistlin!" greeted Tas as a bedragged Raistlin entered the room, with a frown on his face.
"What is so important that you had to come here in the middle of the night and wake us up?" asked Raistlin as he fixed an irritated glare on the kender.
"If you listened, you would see that I was getting to that. Anyway, I woke Flint up, and he said, 'What are you babbling on about, you doorknob?' and I said 'Look outside your window, Flint, there's beautiful lights and--Gee Raistlin, what's the matter? Your face is all creased, like you ate a lemon, you know, the kind Flint brings back from his trips to Qualinesti-"
"Tas, I think you should just skip to the reason you came here," interrupted Caramon, who could see that Raistlin was one minute away from attacking the kender.
"Fine, but it's a real good story. I'll tell you it later." Tas absently picked up a fork that hadn't been put away after twins' evening meal, and put it in his pouch. Caramon quickly removed it. "Wow, that must have fallen in there. Good thing I was here to catch it." He paused, thinking back to what he had been about to say. "Oh yeah, I came here because Mistress Meggin won't let anyone near her niece whose hurt, and she said she wants you and Caramon to help her right now."
Raistlin's expression went from anger to shock. "What did you say?"
"Well her niece was traveling to Solace-"
"I know that," hissed Raistlin,"Where did this happen?"
"About four miles outside of here. She wants you and Caramon to come because she doesn't trust anyone else to help her niece."
Raistlin nodded and went into his room, quickly donning his robes. Caramon had just pulled on a shirt when Raistlin reappeared. "Make haste, my brother, for Mistess Meggin would not have summoned us unless her niece's wound is serious."
"Sure Raist, but since when did Wierd, er, I mean Mistress Meggin have a niece?"
"Caramon, I have not the time to explain such things to you. Now do as you're told and follow me," Raistlin said coldly as he pushed Tas out the door and walked down the winding stairs to the ground below. Caramon obediently followed and when they reached the bottom, they found two horses waiting for them.
"These are from Mansly, you know, the farmer? He heard that you were summoned so he brought these fellas over here." said Tas, answering the twins' quizzical looks.
Raistlin mounted his with a bit of difficulty, but he refused Caramon's help. Caramon mounted his when he was sure that Raistlin was settled. He reached down and pulled Tas up to sit with him and the trio galloped toward the direction of the battle scene.
"Now common, miss," said the tired dwarf, Flint, "All of us here are the good folk of Solace and all we want to do is help your niece." He approached calmly, but was stopped by the snarling wolf at Mistress Meggin's side. She was kneeling down next to the form of her niece, and was holding a poultice wrap against the wound produced by the arrow protruding from Mora's side. The other men with Flint sighed and stepped back, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Majere brothers that Mistress Meggin had been asking for. Flint grumbled about 'stupid human women' and called out to the men when he heard the horses approaching.
"By Reorx! I thought you'd never get here!" Flint said, running to greet the twins as they dismounted.
"See Flint! I told you I would be a good messenger," said Tas proudly, puffing out his chest.
"We only sent you because we couldn't deal with your mouth flapping any longer!" said Flint gruffly.
" I know you don't mean that," said Tas, not offended at all.
"Where is Mistress Meggin?" asked Raistlin, not concerning himself with greeting the dwarf.
"Down that way, lad." Raistlin went in the direction that Flint had pointed in, with Caramon close behind.
"Why do you think she wanted me to come, Raist?" asked Caramon.
"I don't know, now shut up." he replied.
Upon their arrival, the wolf visibly calmed, as if realizing that they were here to take over. Mistress Meggin looked up and her relief was clearly visible.
"Thank you for coming," she said as she stood up. "I trust Mora in the hands of no man, other then you two. It's good to see you again, Caramon." Caramon mumbled an incoherent reply.
"I need you to carry her," she said to Caramon. "Her wound has stopped bleeding for now, but I will need your help removing the arrow and properly dressing it once we return to my house." she said, now addressing Raistlin. Caramon stood there, dumfounded, as he stared at the arrow sticking out of the girl.
"Get going, if you're here to help!" she shouted at him. Caramon at once picked Mora up and cradled her in his arms, gently easing her into the saddle of the horse as he came up next. Raistlin and Mistress Meggin shared the other horse and they swiftly rode back to Solace, with the old gray wolf in step behind them.
Mistress Meggin opened the door to her home and ushered in the nervous Caramon, who couldn't take his eyes off the human skeleton that seemed to grin at him. He held Mora in his arms, wanting desperately to leave this place as quick as possible, yet wanting to stay because he was worried about the unconscious girl in his arms. He stood waiting as Raistlin cleared off the table in the middle of the room and Mistress Meggin put some water on to boil.
"Lay her down here," instructed the woman. Caramon did and Mistress Meggin smiled, "You have done well. I am sure that when Mora is feeling better, she will pay you a visit and cook you dinner, or something of that sort."
Caramon looked at Raistlin, unsure of what to do. "You heard her. You may leave now. We no longer need your assistance." Caramon nodded and left the house.
"Good, now we can get started on the hard part," said Mistress Meggin. "Lift her up so that I can lay this clothe under her wounded side. Raistlin did this and then helped her cut off the shirt that circled the arrow. Mistress Meggin cleaned the area and inspected the arrow that entered her niece perpendicularly. "Alright, Raistlin, I want you to..."
About an hour later, Mistress Meggin was putting the final touches on the bandages wrapped around Mora's waist. Luckily, the arrow hadn't pierced any organs and the procedure, overall had gone well. Raistlin had learned from firsthand experience how to dress crossbow wounds and Mora hadn't died.
"Raistlin, there are no words of gratitude to express my thanks or any way to for me to repay you."
"The knowlege I have gained from this experiace is enough, Mistress Meggin." Raistlin said politely.
"Of course, once Mora is feeling better you'll have to come see her. I believe she would like to thank the man who helped save her life, and then, perhaps, she will explain the pieces of her story that are missing?" she said with a laugh.
Saying his farewells, Raistlin returned home to sleep.
It was the next day, and the twins were at the table having their morning meal. "Everyone is talking about Mora," Caramon began, shuveling gruel into his mouth. "Last night, Flint, Mansly, Otik, and some other of the men from town, were burying the dead from the attack on the cart. I had gone back to help out, and I saw the bodies, Raist. The looked like the horse that got hit by lightening last spring." he paused, inspecting the empty bowl that sat in front of him. He reached over and poured what was left in the pot into his bowl and took a bite. "Everyone there agreed that there hadn't been a storm last night. They think she might have used magic. What do you think?"
Raistlin pushed the gruel around in his bowl. "I think that all of you are just simple, gullible, townsfolk who believe what you want to believe." he said in a tone of finality, as he rose to gather his books and leave. He felt that there was no reason to tell Caramon the truth that Mora's father was a mage and she might have learned from him
Caramon, not realizing that Raistlin no longer wished to discuss this topic, continued while finishing Raistlin's uneaten food. "Well, either way, everyone is interested in her. So, what did she look like? I couldn't tell, it was too dark."
"How should I know, she was covered in dirt. Why do you care? I thought Miranda was your love." Raistlin said coldly as he opened the door to leave.
"Well, yeah, Raist," said Caramon, not hearing the coldness and bitterness in his brother's voice. "Just curious. Miranda hasn't talked to me in a while. I wonder why."
Raistlin didn't hear the rest of his thoughts, because he had already left for school.
At school, Raistlin found no relief from questions about Mora, since the older students there and Master Theobald had all heard of the way the bandits had died. When school was finally over, Raistlin went straight home, to study his meager spell book and to get away from all the people who suddenly wanted to talk to him.
About a week and a half later, Raistlin was walking home and came across Mistress Meggin, who seemed to be waiting for him.
"Ah, Raistlin," she said as she approached him. "Come over later, Mora wishes to see you and give her thanks."
Raistlin smiled politely and replied, "Thank you for the invitation, I will be over at twilight."
Mistress Meggin nodded happily and walked the other way, in the direction of her home.
Raistlin smiled wryly, curious to see the girl who had the interest of most everyone in Solace.
Raistlin walked to the home of Mistress Meggin. Although Caramon was just as curious over the girl, he didn't ask to come, not wanting to have to ever reenter Mistress Meggin's home.
Mistress Meggin wasn't an attractive woman, and Raistlin highly doubted that the male population of Solace would have any interest in Mora once they saw her appearance. Raistlin felt a bit of sympathy towards her after that thought, knowing what it was like to not be the 'most loved one'. Clearing his mind of such feelings, he knocked on the door. Mistress Meggin answered and the two sat down, waiting for Mora to enter the room. Mistress Meggin handed him a cup of tea and some sweet bread, which Raistlin took but didn't eat, prefering the tea alone.
"Mora, come out." called the older woman. "Raistlin is here."
Raistlin sat patiently, staring intently at the room, which he knew she would be coming from.
Slowly the door opened and the lithe figure of a girl, about the same age as Raistlin, moved slowly towards them. At first, Raistlin couldn't see her face; the light cast a shadow over it. When he did, he felt his breath catch in his throat and his mouth go dry. Mora was the most beautiful person Raistlin had ever seen in his life. Her pale, blonde hair hair hung halfway down her back in tight curls. Her eyes were as green as the emeralds Flint embedded into his jewelry. Raistlin quickly regained his composure and rose to greet her.
Mora regarded him with a calm face, although she had almost gasped at his appearance that had struck her as forcefully as the bolts she cast from her hands. He was truly attractive, and his piercing eyes, that most people found too intense, was his best feature to her.
She smiled kindly and said, "Hello, Raistlin Majere, I am Mora Taeon. It is nice to finally meet you, without being unconscious."