Author's Notes: Well comrades, last chapter. Thanks to everyone for reading this. I hope you enjoyed my revisions. I think that the story is a lot better now.

The mage and the cleric continued to correspond as Raistlin and his brother journeyed around Krynn, working for various employers. Their letters were brought to an abrupt halt with the arrival of dragons on Krynn and the subsequent chaos produced by the War of the Lance. Crysania did cross his mind during the Companions' adventures: he imagined her excitement when the Disks of Mishakal were discovered, and he wondered if Fizban, if the old man was Paladine, as it was whispered he was, had heard her prayers all these years.

As for after the war, well… Despite the fact that the Tower of High Sorcery did in fact have a post office box in Palanthas, renewing communication with an old acquaintance especially with one he'd had such a friendly relationship with was not in the spirit of cutting all ties to his past life. Withdrawing from the world, and strengthening his power, Raistlin forgot about Crysania.

Until the dreams began.

As Raistlin formulated his plan to challenge the gods, his subconscious or perhaps a higher power began to show him visions nightly: walking through the deserted streets of ancient Istar, familiar, withered hands grasping him, dragging him downwards, a menacing flat plane devoid of light. This did not bother him over much, Raistlin had had disturbing dreams all his life. When Crysania appeared, she looked much as he remembered, but her clothes were ravaged by inextinguishable fire. None of this would have bothered Raistlin except that next the dream Crysania twined her arms around Raistlin's neck and kissed him fiercely, pressing herself against him. The flames would spread to his clothes and flesh and he would feel their searing pain, unable to break away, until he woke.

Try as he might, Raistlin could divine no meaning from this part of his nightly visions. Crysania, the kiss, the excruciating heat of the fire, none of it made sense. This, combined with the fact that he nightly dreamed about being embraced and kissed by a women who had kissed him at their parting, annoyed and frustrated him.

Resolution came with the arrival of a letter in an unfamiliar hand marked with a return address of the Temple of Paladine, Palanthas. This was surprising, as Raistlin had not yet written to request the meeting with Elistan that would be the first turn of the cog in the grand scheme to challenge the gods.

The letter had been left on his desk by Dalamar who checked the Tower's mail box infrequently. Raistlin slit the opening and began to read.

To the Archmage, Raistlin Majere:

Reverend Daughter of Paladine, Crysania of Tarinius-

"Crysania!" he gasped, almost dropping the letter. So she had become a cleric, and a renowned one, if she had scribes to write letters for her. Raistlin read on, "wishes to meet with you to discuss the concerning matter of your salvation, as well as several disturbing rumors of your ambitions. Should you accept this offer, she will await you a month from now, in the Great Library of Palanthas.

Blessings In Paladine's Name.

Carefully, Raistlin placed the letter back on her desk, barely breathing, as if force or breathe could rob him of this opportunity. He had planned to initiate the meeting, but it was how much better was it if she came to him? He had planned to use Elistan, but what was an old man compared to this younger women he'd spent months with?

Years ago, Raistlin had guessed the value of having her as an ally, and now it seemed that he had guessed correctly. Now her appearance in the dreams made sense. Perhaps the fire, the pain, represented the trials they would face. However, the one facet of the visions that continued to bother Raistlin as he prepared to write his reply, was the kiss. The only plausible meaning as that she still harbored some romantic affection for him, even after years of no contact. So much the better, those who loved you more were always the easier to manipulate, but unlike the dreams, this love would only burn her. His path was much greater than petty human emotion.

Dipping his quill in ink, a gesture that reminded him vividly of their past letters- all that had changed was their titles- he wrote:

To Revered Daughter of Paladine, Crysania:

Very well. I agree.

Raistlin Majere, Archmage.

Author's Notes: The idea of Krynn having a postal system is canon, as mentioned in "The Heart of a Dragnon," short story from one of the collections.