Tasslehoff bowed his head sadly, his eyes breaking from Tanis.
He had found his friend while still flushed from the exhilaration of navigating the flying citadel, already knowing (as the world hadn't ended) that Tanis and Caramon must have succeeded. But the minute he had found Tanis and the Half-Elf had looked at him, he'd known something was wrong.
Lady Crysania was hurt. Gravely hurt.
And Raistlin and Kitiara were gone.
The Kender looked up at Tanis again, searching for a reaction. Poor Tanis. He knew that his friend truly loved Laurana, but still...
He himself took a moment to think of the darkly beautiful woman, but his thoughts of her mixed with the memory of a knight laid out in a tomb.
Sturm. Kitiara had killed him.
Too much was happening. He couldn't think about that now.
"Tanis, I... if it's allowed, I'd like to help take care of Lady Crysania."
"I'll talk to the Revered Daughters, Tas. I'm sure it can be arranged."
Before they could say more, they were interrupted by a young Knight of Solamnia with a message for Tanis. The Half-Elf talked to him briefly before dismissing him.
"Tas, I have to go. There's still urgent business. Caramon will want to see you-he's in the room on the right at the end of the hall. Stay with him awhile."
"But Tanis, I..." the Kender faltered. "I always make a mess of everything. What do I say to him?"
"You'll know, Tas. It was you who was there with him through everything." his friend replied, and then was gone.
Tas looked down the hall like a Kender about to walk to the executioner's block, just standing there for the moment.
His imagination was sometimes a curse. He thought of Kitiara's face forever frozen in horror as Lord Soth came for her, and Raistlin sealed forever in the Abyss with the Dark Queen looming behind him.
He was glad he hadn't seen it, and that made him feel a little guilty.
His thoughts turned then to Raistlin. Aside from Caramon, he himself had probably spent the most time with the Mage out of their circle of friends. He had felt sorry sometimes watching him sit in a corner alone if Caramon was elsewhere, and talking him into doing magic had been great fun...
No. No, No...
It was too late. He still had nightmares sometimes. Sometimes he saw the Gnome's body, but it was even worse when he smelled the burning flesh again.
Raistlin probably would have killed Gnimsh no matter what he had done, but the fact that the Gnome had died trustingly rooted to the spot, soothed by Tas' assurances that Raistlin wouldn't hurt him...
And Gnimsh had been the only thing that had gotten him through his ordeal in the Abyss. The only thing.
How had it come to this?
He remembered a haze of pain and sickness, feeling knowledge being torn from him that he hadn't even known he had, and then-even then-reaching his hands out to the Mage as his hourglass eyes seemed to shatter.
It was Tanis who had actually said the words. Raistlin had tortured him.
That had been all there was at the end-that and the few angry, hurled words about Gnimsh a few days later.
Everyone said that Raistlin and Kitiara had wanted power. In a way he didn't really understand, they had wanted it differently than he had wanted to use his ability to alter time to stop the Cataclysm. Had any of them really known them at all?
Tas finally started to walk down the hall. He wanted Tika. She should be the one here, not him. After all, she was his wife...
He stopped at the door. It's just Caramon, you doorknob, a voice chided in his head. He realized then that he was afraid to go in, because if he looked at Caramon and that terrible soul-dead look was still in his eyes...
With a sigh, he knocked and went in.
Caramon said nothing for a moment, but looked up at him with an expression of sadness and fond recognition, but not hollow emptiness.
"Do you know?" the big man asked.
"I know." Tas whispered, his heart thudding in his chest.
"We failed." Caramon said helplessly.
"No." he answered with tender compassion, taking his friend's face in his hands and looking deep into his eyes. "We gave our all. And we loved."
Half Caramon's size, Tas couldn't put his arms around him, so he just gently rested the exhausted man's head against him as best he could.
He saw the ghosts of a woman mussing his topknot and laughing like chimes as she turned from him and they exchanged a mischievous grin. A young man half-smiling at him, not yet with yellow skin and hourglass eyes.
Wordlessly, though not yet able to forgive them for Sturm and Gnimsh, he finally asked Fizban to do what he could to see that they were not doomed to the Abyss forever as he ran a hand through Caramon's hair.
He had found his friend while still flushed from the exhilaration of navigating the flying citadel, already knowing (as the world hadn't ended) that Tanis and Caramon must have succeeded. But the minute he had found Tanis and the Half-Elf had looked at him, he'd known something was wrong.
Lady Crysania was hurt. Gravely hurt.
And Raistlin and Kitiara were gone.
The Kender looked up at Tanis again, searching for a reaction. Poor Tanis. He knew that his friend truly loved Laurana, but still...
He himself took a moment to think of the darkly beautiful woman, but his thoughts of her mixed with the memory of a knight laid out in a tomb.
Sturm. Kitiara had killed him.
Too much was happening. He couldn't think about that now.
"Tanis, I... if it's allowed, I'd like to help take care of Lady Crysania."
"I'll talk to the Revered Daughters, Tas. I'm sure it can be arranged."
Before they could say more, they were interrupted by a young Knight of Solamnia with a message for Tanis. The Half-Elf talked to him briefly before dismissing him.
"Tas, I have to go. There's still urgent business. Caramon will want to see you-he's in the room on the right at the end of the hall. Stay with him awhile."
"But Tanis, I..." the Kender faltered. "I always make a mess of everything. What do I say to him?"
"You'll know, Tas. It was you who was there with him through everything." his friend replied, and then was gone.
Tas looked down the hall like a Kender about to walk to the executioner's block, just standing there for the moment.
His imagination was sometimes a curse. He thought of Kitiara's face forever frozen in horror as Lord Soth came for her, and Raistlin sealed forever in the Abyss with the Dark Queen looming behind him.
He was glad he hadn't seen it, and that made him feel a little guilty.
His thoughts turned then to Raistlin. Aside from Caramon, he himself had probably spent the most time with the Mage out of their circle of friends. He had felt sorry sometimes watching him sit in a corner alone if Caramon was elsewhere, and talking him into doing magic had been great fun...
No. No, No...
It was too late. He still had nightmares sometimes. Sometimes he saw the Gnome's body, but it was even worse when he smelled the burning flesh again.
Raistlin probably would have killed Gnimsh no matter what he had done, but the fact that the Gnome had died trustingly rooted to the spot, soothed by Tas' assurances that Raistlin wouldn't hurt him...
And Gnimsh had been the only thing that had gotten him through his ordeal in the Abyss. The only thing.
How had it come to this?
He remembered a haze of pain and sickness, feeling knowledge being torn from him that he hadn't even known he had, and then-even then-reaching his hands out to the Mage as his hourglass eyes seemed to shatter.
It was Tanis who had actually said the words. Raistlin had tortured him.
That had been all there was at the end-that and the few angry, hurled words about Gnimsh a few days later.
Everyone said that Raistlin and Kitiara had wanted power. In a way he didn't really understand, they had wanted it differently than he had wanted to use his ability to alter time to stop the Cataclysm. Had any of them really known them at all?
Tas finally started to walk down the hall. He wanted Tika. She should be the one here, not him. After all, she was his wife...
He stopped at the door. It's just Caramon, you doorknob, a voice chided in his head. He realized then that he was afraid to go in, because if he looked at Caramon and that terrible soul-dead look was still in his eyes...
With a sigh, he knocked and went in.
Caramon said nothing for a moment, but looked up at him with an expression of sadness and fond recognition, but not hollow emptiness.
"Do you know?" the big man asked.
"I know." Tas whispered, his heart thudding in his chest.
"We failed." Caramon said helplessly.
"No." he answered with tender compassion, taking his friend's face in his hands and looking deep into his eyes. "We gave our all. And we loved."
Half Caramon's size, Tas couldn't put his arms around him, so he just gently rested the exhausted man's head against him as best he could.
He saw the ghosts of a woman mussing his topknot and laughing like chimes as she turned from him and they exchanged a mischievous grin. A young man half-smiling at him, not yet with yellow skin and hourglass eyes.
Wordlessly, though not yet able to forgive them for Sturm and Gnimsh, he finally asked Fizban to do what he could to see that they were not doomed to the Abyss forever as he ran a hand through Caramon's hair.