Author's Note:
The Dragonlance Chronicles have always been my favorite books. I first bought them when they came out as six chronicles instead of as a trilogy, which allowed me to become a Dragonlance "historian" in a sense. I love Tasslehoff Burrfoot - I'm a sucker for the funny people. Thus, I created this story... and though it may not seem like your traditional Tas fanfiction, my creative side (which is a bit too large for my own good) went absolutely nuts. Please review, since this is my first "published" story! Have fun reading about my crazy characters :)
Prologue:
A Black-Winged Visitor
Tales are spun
In a million ways
Who tells the truth...?
None can say.
Solace was, and would continue to be, one of the most peaceful cities on the continent of Ansalon. Life was led in a contented way. The men worked to put food on the table, the women did their part by raising children and running their households, and the children went to school – though they never felt like it. Often, if one were to stick their head in a home, they would see young boys chucking things at their mothers; and the mothers were often as merciless as their assailants.
But, all in all, when all was said and done, Solace was peaceful. People kept to themselves – even the bars were relatively innocent compared to others.
Perhaps this was why the existence of the bird caused so much disturbance.
True, it wasn't a normal bird. Normal birds don't sit in the same branch every second of the day. Normal birds make sounds. Normal birds don't make you feel as if something horrible is about to happen, and you can't do anything about it. To the people of Solace, the bird was an omen of doom – a depressing thing to speak of, look at, or even think of.
It wouldn't have been a problem, though. The large black creature simply sat in one of the older trees in Solace and occasionally ruffled its wings. No one ever saw it go to look for food. In fact, it appeared as if it didn't move at all. It just sat there; blinking steadily with onyx-like eyes and waiting.
That's what they decided it was doing: waiting. It had to be. What else would cause an animal to sit and not do anything, unless it was ill? Nobody thought it was ill. The bird appeared healthy. Its wings had shine and it didn't appear to lose weight because of starvation.
So, how was it that the bird caused trouble?
It began with the sickness. No one knew where it came from, but it swept through the city, taking hundreds of lives as it went. Even the most respected healers didn't have a clue how to stop it. At last, they gave up and told the citizens that it would "run its course."
But it didn't run its course just once. The illness, which the people of Solace named "Fever of the Watery Eyes" brought, as the name suggested, watery eyes and a high fever. This was usually followed by sweating and lack of memory, and then, before anyone could figure out what was happening to the person, they were dead.
People began to blame the arrival of the illness on the bird. And who could blame them? It appeared sinister, and who knew what kind of black magic it could be working over Solace?
Gossip flew through Solace nearly as fast as the sickness had. Crazy rumors about the bird being a devil popped up everywhere, and pretty soon no one knew what the truth was and what wasn't. This much seemed evident – the bird was to blame for the sickness.
The weather grew steadily worse as well. Though this was a much smaller problem in comparison to the sickness, it was another thing that fueled the citizens of Solace's hatred of the bird. No one spoke of the creature without a feeling of abhorrence in their voice.
That night in particular held unappealing weather. The skies were a deep, dark purple color and looked fit to burst with rain. Occasionally an ominous rumble of thunder would shake Solace. Women were constantly sticking their heads out of their windows and calling to their children to come in before they got struck down by lightning. Worry built up steadily in the city as the evening went on. No one slept – no one could! The feelings of tension were so sharp and painful that many citizens simply sat in their kitchens and ate, hoping the food might calm their knotted stomachs.
Chilling feelings,
Empty souls,
Whispering winds,
A story untold
The bird had, like the previous nights, not moved at all except for the occasional flutter of wings. But, that night, it lifted its head unusually high and opened its beak, calling out to the rumbling skies.
Far below the tree where the bird sat, sending out its haunting message, a hooded figure sat on the back of a pale horse. It smiled beneath its hood.
"Fear not, Himalak," she said. "I am here."
The bird lowered its head. Slowly, barely making a sound, it flew off of its branch for the first time in two weeks and landed on the girl's waiting arm.