Out on the lawn in front of his house, the white-robed mage paced back and forth like a caged tiger, consumed by inner turmoil.
"I should never have left her alone with him," he muttered, glancing anxiously at the door.
It had been two hours since Crysania had asked for a moment alone with Raistlin... to talk.
It's oddly quiet in there, Valin thought worriedly, pulling the door open and entering the house.
"Crys...?" Valin called softly into the echoingly empty room. "Baby?" Stepping fully inside, he glanced around hopefully. "Where are ya?" He crossed to the wooden table that stood in the center of the room, with that evening's dinner still spread across it, and sat down wearily in one of the two chairs. He knew now that Crysania was gone, for if she weren't, she would have responded to his calls.
"Why?" he demanded of himself in a choked voice, pounding his fist on the table in anguish. "Why did I leave you alone with that wretched mage?!" But even as his vision blurred, he knew perfectly well why. If Raistlin Majere, Master of Past and Present, challenger of the Queen of Darkness had demanded to be left alone with Valin's wife, he would have never allowed it. But Crysania's gentle touch on Valin's arm, a softly spoken plea, "Just.. give us a few moments... please," and a reassuring glance from those large grey eyes that, although sightless, seemed as though they could see straight through to Valin's heart...
...Valin could never resist those eyes. He had squashed his misgivings and agreed, giving way to his trust in Crysania. He could still feel the softness of her arms and back, the smooth cold metal of the medallion pressing against his chest through his robes as he embraced his wife... for the last time.
"I'll wait for you outside," Valin whispered the words even as he remembered saying them. Closing his eyes, he reached forward and picked up Crysania's cup. He easily recognized it by the design of a rose he himself had carved on it for her.
The memory of a scent he had not even noticed at the time welled to the surface of his mind. The scent of death, spices and rose petals. With a sharp, twisting feeling in his gut, Valin realised who the cup must have reminded Crysania of.
Valin opened his eyes and wiped a fist roughly across them to clear the tears from his vision. "Now I know I was never your true love," he said to the air, as if convincing himself that somehow, in some way, she could hear him. "But Cr--" his voice cracked and failed him as he tried to speak her name, but he finished the sentence in thought. Crysania, you were mine...
"I should never have left her alone with him," he muttered, glancing anxiously at the door.
It had been two hours since Crysania had asked for a moment alone with Raistlin... to talk.
It's oddly quiet in there, Valin thought worriedly, pulling the door open and entering the house.
"Crys...?" Valin called softly into the echoingly empty room. "Baby?" Stepping fully inside, he glanced around hopefully. "Where are ya?" He crossed to the wooden table that stood in the center of the room, with that evening's dinner still spread across it, and sat down wearily in one of the two chairs. He knew now that Crysania was gone, for if she weren't, she would have responded to his calls.
"Why?" he demanded of himself in a choked voice, pounding his fist on the table in anguish. "Why did I leave you alone with that wretched mage?!" But even as his vision blurred, he knew perfectly well why. If Raistlin Majere, Master of Past and Present, challenger of the Queen of Darkness had demanded to be left alone with Valin's wife, he would have never allowed it. But Crysania's gentle touch on Valin's arm, a softly spoken plea, "Just.. give us a few moments... please," and a reassuring glance from those large grey eyes that, although sightless, seemed as though they could see straight through to Valin's heart...
...Valin could never resist those eyes. He had squashed his misgivings and agreed, giving way to his trust in Crysania. He could still feel the softness of her arms and back, the smooth cold metal of the medallion pressing against his chest through his robes as he embraced his wife... for the last time.
"I'll wait for you outside," Valin whispered the words even as he remembered saying them. Closing his eyes, he reached forward and picked up Crysania's cup. He easily recognized it by the design of a rose he himself had carved on it for her.
The memory of a scent he had not even noticed at the time welled to the surface of his mind. The scent of death, spices and rose petals. With a sharp, twisting feeling in his gut, Valin realised who the cup must have reminded Crysania of.
Valin opened his eyes and wiped a fist roughly across them to clear the tears from his vision. "Now I know I was never your true love," he said to the air, as if convincing himself that somehow, in some way, she could hear him. "But Cr--" his voice cracked and failed him as he tried to speak her name, but he finished the sentence in thought. Crysania, you were mine...