When Two Worlds Collide

by SoundofInsurrection

Argyria Metaxas always wondered what it'd be like to be in the world of Krynn and meet her favorite mage. She never expected them to invade her world. Now she and a 20yr old Raistlin must work together to discover what brought him to her world, and she finds the reality of dealing with the snarky mage equally more thrilling and more frustrating than her wildest expectations.

86. Book5 Chap9 Defenders of Magic Part 3

A/N: two things real quick, then I'll let everyone dive into the finale of the first installment.

1st- "Rhuadhán" is Irish Gaelic and pronounced "Rue-awn".

2-As usual, I own no songs appearing here, I'm taking artistic liberty to borrow some lyrics for fun, I profit in no way from this. The second band in mention has been around for a few decades, but I only just stumbled on them while on that super long hiatus and certain songs were parallel to scenes I had planned for this series. It gave me the much needed inspiration to dive back in; and they and another band that will be given appreciation in the fourth installment have loaned inspiration that kept me writing when my muse otherwise takes off. So I'm weaving a few of those key songs in on occasion as my way of showing appreciation for good music.

Chapter 9

Defenders of Magic- Part 3

After the meeting with The Three, the young adults had fallen unconscious and the five who had been with Argyria before the meeting had woken back up within her apartment. Gabriella informed them that she had sensed two pulses of magic, within seconds of one another, much like the one she had sensed when Raistlin had been first brought to Argyria's apartment. Which told them the gods had returned them almost at the same moment as they had been taken, despite how much time had seemed to passed in the pocket dimension. Janet called Brian minutes later, a bit frazzled and wanting to know if what had happened had really happened, or if it had been a weird dream she had. She and Norman ended up driving over in the wee hours of the morning and joining the rest of the group to discuss the event.

Late that morning, Argyria had a visitor at her door- Eneas. He handed her a set of car keys to a new sedan now sitting in the driveway and told her that her father wanted her to have a license obtained in the immediate future. She needed to be able to drive places for her own sake, and Hektor was driving him insane with questions about when she was coming back. Now that Raistlin was apparently gone, she had no excuses to be blowing off time with family. When Argyria tried to protest, saying she couldn't afford the upkeep on such a vehicle, her uncle said her father had already paid for the vehicle and insurance was under his name, and there were a small stack of prepaid cards in the glovebox to pay for the gas.

Eneas deflected more protests by turning his attention to the collective group of teenagers to inform them that Nikolaos was changing his plans for a new residence, given the recent directives given by The Three. A new manor was going to be built in an undisclosed location, heavily warded against all manner of intrusions or locating, and serving as a central headquarters and training facility for the new recruits. Ivan was going to be selling his non-magic related stock through auction houses, cashing in on the small hoard of antiques he had been collecting the last few decades, to help the Metaxas patriarch keep their operation funded for the foreseeable future without needing to maintain businesses. The young adults had a week to make and begin undertaking their exit plans from civilian life. Once extricated from their obligations, they were going to begin the first stages of their training with their new mentors. By New Year's Eve, they needed to be prepared for moving into the training house and solely focused on fulfilling the commitment they had made.

In answer to Lexi asking her father who was joining them at this new base of operations being made, Eneas informed them only those who had been at the meeting, except himself, and Hektor because Nikolaos wasn't leaving the boy's care to others. Eneas and the other three commanders needed to start positioning themselves to better handle military matters that would undoubtedly arise. The incident with the Wolves of Eris would make a useful Governor's campaign launch for Eneas, the former government agent was now hailed as a minor local celebrity for being the hero who had stopped a small group of terrorists. With financial backing from his brothers-in-law, an aggressive campaign should win him the spot in the election in a few months' time. He'd be spending a couple years proving he could manage running a state, and conveniently have command over the state's National Guard; then run for Senate and have an influence and inside track on a federal level, while endorsing his brothers-in-law for governor and other key support positions beneath him. If things went right with his political campaigns, he'd make a run for President when it seemed like things would soon be coming to a head with their enemies to try taking control of the full might of country's military and influence on other countries and leveling that against whatever Kitiara and her forces manage to muster.

The first week of September was spent with the young adults withdrawing from their various commitments. Those in college cancelled their enrollment for the autumn semester, which drew parental displeasure from a few sources onto Brian. Despite how she and Brian tried to frame it to her parents, in a more delicate way than Brian's initial suggestion, Janet ended up in an argument with her parents. She had been left all but disowned for leaving college, her parents angry at her for throwing away a chance at being self-sufficient to move in with a boyfriend and live together unmarried and reliant on him. Janet packed some bags of belongings, grabbed the gigantic stuffed bear Brian had won her a few months earlier, and Brian drove her down to his apartment in Massachusetts. Victor and Evan had been watching a movie in the bedroom they split when at Brian's, and heard Janet still crying upon entry to the apartment. The four of them ended up spending the night chowing down on comfort foods and letting Janet pick the movies to binge on.

A few days later, Brian found himself with his own parents pissed at him. He had at least finished his final year of college, so the McCaffreys were initially only mildly annoyed with him for the news that he was transferring to a job that was even further away and he'd be visiting even less than he already did. But then they were told Evan was leaving college to take a position in a different department of the company that the elder brother had helped him secure, not bothering to finish his degree they had spent so much money on, and abandoning his racing pursuits that they had likewise spent a great deal of money on to support, and that said younger son would likewise be all but disappearing for this sudden career shift. The McCaffrey parents had become more than a little upset with the seemingly risky decision being made, worried that if things didn't work out as well for Evan as they might for Brian, he wouldn't have a proper foundation from college to fall back on. When neither son was willing to give many details on these new jobs and why they were so keen to take off for them, the McCaffreys became concerned that Brian wasn't thinking about what might really be in his brother's best interests, just wanting the familiarity in the new environment, and that Evan was once again too eager to follow his brother's lead on bad ideas.

Lexi didn't have to worry so much about parental displeasure because her father at least knew what was going on. She did, however, have to break it to Madam Rossi that she was leaving the theater house for personal reasons, which her mentor was deeply disappointed to hear. Lexi was at least able to offer to Madam Rossi that both patriarchs of her family, and Mr. Kursoff, wanted to remain patrons of the theater house's work and she'd continue seeing regular checks to help keep things afloat. While that did provide some relief, Madam Rossi still had questions that Lexi wasn't able to give real answers on, and she was feeling a great deal of guilt for leaving as she was, adding weight to her own disappointment about leaving the ballet.

Darlene didn't have parents she needed to answer to, but she did have a contract at the salon. The owner didn't appreciate being given a two month notice that she was breaking that contract and someone else would need to pick up ownership of her station. She and the salon owner had a falling out over how to resolve the contract, and a threat to sue her for the remainder of the contact's amount if a suitable replacement couldn't be trained to pick it up for her. Ivan ended up stepping in when the matter eventually made it back to him, paying off the remainder of Darlene's contract for her so as to avoid trouble and Darlene packed up her personal equipment to leave that week to avoid further hostilities.

Victor's parents were a bit surprised to hear he was giving up the new job he had just barely gotten for another, but when told it was going to come with a larger pay increase, they wished him well with it. When told he'd also be needing to sacrifice his chance at the Olympics to take the job, however, they were more shocked at his decision of priorities and giving up that dream. Victor forced himself to pretend he was fine with the decision, telling them that athletics were a fickle and short-lived career anyway, and dealing with the whims of sponsors he might pick up made it all the worse, so he was trying to make the adult decision of seizing a more reliable career opportunity. The Manikas parents enquired several times over if he was sure about his decision, but ultimately decided to support it. Victor's new agent, on the other hand, was far less pleased about losing such a promising client and the deals that would come if Victor had managed to secure a spot on the team. Victor ended up needing to turn his cell phone off because the agent was calling him multiple times a day, trying to find out if there was another agent he was working with or if there was some way to coax him into changing his mind.

Norman was the only one of Argyria's friends who didn't need to deal with parental or career problems. His parents, while not magic-users, were aware their son was gifted as he was. All it took was telling them he had new training to undertake, and they gave their blessings and simply asked him to be as safe as possible. His previous mentors weren't told why he was being transferred to the training of others, but to his relief the gods had apparently given Doc and the others a heads-up that the apprentice was needed elsewhere on a more permanent basis and expressed gratitude for how well they had trained him thus far. So there was no hard feelings in going their separate ways, but it was still difficult to make his goodbyes to people who had been an inextricable part of what was literally half his life. At least Haldor had been able to finish up their drum making lessons over the summer, and he had his first drum of his own creation to bring with him into this new venture. One thing less on his list of things to do if Ragnarok couldn't be stopped, and something else to remember Doc by.

The following weekend found the group once again having a convening at Argyria's apartment to seek solidarity from the others. Come Monday morning, they split off into two separate groups for the day's activities.

Argyria, Lexi, Janet and Norman were bound for Maggie's shop to spend the morning helping her begin the process of sorting and packing the books in stock to either be moved to the library of their future training house or be donated to local libraries. Maggie was having a trying time to keep detached from the process. The shop had been both her source of income and tie to the community since moving from Wales to this country two decades ago. She had her duties as a High Priestess to attend to, she wasn't retiring from all forms of work, but saying goodbye to her second career she was so passionate about was an emotional sacrifice to be making. Having the young adults there to help make decisions and lug boxes to vehicles was making the task a little more bearable for her.

After lunch they drove over to Maggie's house. Argyria was sent out back to continue her meditations and attempts to reach into herself to tap into her own magic while listening to music. Norman was put to work either packing some of Maggie's things up for moving or studying texts he knew the languages of so the young Priest could expand out his base of understanding through materials his new mentors utilized and help them compare that to things his old triad of mentors had at their disposal.

While those two partially trained apprentices were so occupied, Maggie concentrated her attention on teaching Lexi and Janet the basic tenants of The Three's teachings and how those could be found playing out within different ancient cultures, and what the role of a High Priestess to the Mother Goddess was to uphold the ways of The Three. While Lexi knew a great deal about mythology, there were many inconsistencies to be found in publically related stories that Maggie had to continually remind her to not take for granted and to try separating from what she was now being taught. Janet did not have so wide a base of knowledge, which allowed her to be taught the proper versions of stories from the beginning, but she also came with the baggage of having been a devout follower of a very different religion previously. She had many and more questions about all the differences between them and some biases about some information given that she was needing to try reconciling if she was to eventually be a proper servant of The Three.

The second group- Victor, Evan, Brian and Darlene- were spending their days in similar fashion with Ivan, Yevgeny and Osaze. In the morning, the seven of them were sorting through the multiple stories of the warehouse to aid Ivan in the readying his many collections for auction houses or being transferred to his home for personal use. After lunch, they received similar tutoring to Maggie's group on the foundations of The Three's teachings, with a focus on what role the High Priests to the Lord of Light and Dark God played in those practices. While Darlene was not going to be initiated into one of those two roles, it was still considered important for her to understand what roles her friends she'd be initially training alongside needed to play, and what roles such consorts would have with her lover should Lexi successfully reach the point of being ready for initiation as a High Priestess.

The rest of September passed quickly with such a schedule to keep everyone occupied. The young adults were allowed weekends off from training to help ease them into their new vocational choices and allow the mentors chances time to further organize their own business affairs.

Argyria was getting refresher lessons on driving from her friends to be prepared for taking her driver's test at the beginning of October, grudgingly using the vehicle her father had bought and sent her to become familiar with how it handled being operated. Lexi also drove her to visit with Hektor every other weekend, who was relieved his father's assurances were correct that his big sister hadn't actually run away from them again, she had just needed some quiet time after what had happened with the bad men and to sort some adult matters out for herself.

When Hektor was told that at the end of the year he and his father would be moving to a new house, and not only was his big sister moving in with them, but all her really fun friends- the child almost drove his father crazy with his exuberant requests to hurry the building up so they could all be together sooner. Hektor ended up getting a crash course explanation on just how complicated a matter architecture and construction were and why they couldn't just pay more money to make the building materialize overnight. Nikolaos also had to explain, in broad terms and leaving out (for the time being) the potential of an apocalypse happening, why Argyria and her friends were moving in so Hektor wouldn't be blindsided by the obvious martial and magical training taking place and would understand that he needed to let the older children concentrate on their duties during the day. Hektor had a lot more questions for his father at that point, and Nikolaos had an interesting time trying to give age-appropriate answers to his son. That conversation led to others, as Argyria was to find out not long after.

Argyria managed to pass the driving test when she took it in October and was able to drive herself to the next visit with her brother. Her younger cousins and Aunt Chloe were apparently visiting with Aunt Daphne to finish fitting the kids for their Halloween costumes, the older cousins were out with friends of theirs, and Uncle Eneas was busy at his campaign office as election day inched closer. Which meant her father was the one to answer the door when she knocked. As usual, Hektor greeted her with an excited hug that nearly knocked her over, causing her to laugh as she picked the six year old up and gave him a long hug in return. She still couldn't get over how much he had grown in three years and was having trouble not thinking of him as a tiny toddler.

"Guess what, Penny?!" Hektor exclaimed mid-hug, bouncing a little in her arms and making it harder to keep hold of him. A certain wolf's head necklace bounced around the child's neck, the amulet having been recently gifted to him by their father to help protect him and, supposedly, to help keep Nikolaos from becoming complacent in his own tactics by relying too heavily on the protection it offered.

"What?" Argyria asked, setting him down before she ended up dropping him.

"Bampás is feeling all better now, so he's gonna start giving me lessons so I can kick butt with you guys!" Hektor announced proudly as he struck up a pseudo-fighting pose he had seen in movies.

Argyria's eyebrows flew up and her gaze went to their father, who was snorting back a laugh at the child's antics. "You're doing what now?!"

Nikolaos turned his sardonic dark gaze on his daughter and said, "I don't believe it's that difficult to understand. Hektor is already caught in the middle of this and I'm not about to allow him to continue being defenseless."

"What sort of training are you going to be giving him?" Argyria asked with growing consternation at the prospect of her baby brother getting further embroiled in such affairs.

Nikolaos gave a casual shrug, smirk lingering. "Martial arts, weapons training, Sihir lessons so he can pull arcane power from the ether…"

"You-you—You're going to do what now?!" Argyria had a hard time not shouting. "Is that even possible? With him?!"

Nikolaos gave another shrug. "I'm not allowing a son of mine to be conscripted as a druid, so I leveraged some of the privilege of being me to strike an understanding with The Three. If he takes to his lessons properly, he's to be granted the ability to eventually follow in my footsteps to an extent."

Hektor gave an enthusiastic nod. "I'm going to be studying really, really hard, bampás."

Nikolaos gave an assured nod in return. "I'll be making sure you do, even when your excitement for such studies wanes because you realize how tedious it can be."

Argyria continued staring at her father, still not fully comprehending how such was being allowed. "What about keeping the natural balances of this world and between magic users?"

Nikolaos gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "They've been willing to allow myself and Majere to operate here; allowing one newly minted warmage who will only be able to cast certain old world magics is hardly going to offset the balances further. They're not allowing it to continue being passed on for further generations, but under the circumstances an extra competent general weighs heavier as another asset for them."

Hektor gave another nod, saying cheerfully to his big sister, "I'm gonna be responsible, Penny, so don't worry!" He tugged on her hand. "There's actually a new book bampás wants me to read before he lets me start studying, about Alcides and what happens when people aren't responsible with their power. There's a bunch of big words in Greek I don't know, so come read it to me."

Argyria needed a few seconds longer to collect her wits at this surprise announcement, then sighed and shook her head in defeat. It wasn't as though she was being given any say in this arrangement her father had apparently struck with the gods and her brother had already been told about it. "Yeah, sure, Hektor. That's a good story to know…" As she let her brother drag her towards the stairs, she said over her shoulder to her still smirking father, "The gods might be allowing this idea of yours, but we need to have a discussion about it. There's a gazillion potential issues with this."

"As if I haven't already considered them all." Nikolaos's dismissive laughter followed after her as he made his way to the opposite side of the house where his room was.

Hektor led his sister to the guest room they had been sharing a few months earlier, and it was now home to many of the child's books and toys brought over from their father's house. The book he pulled off his little bookshelf wasn't a typical, glossy covered mass produced book, but instead a slender volume with a brown leather cover that the elder Metaxas child instantly recognized the source of.

Argyria accepted the volume from her brother, and couldn't help the nostalgic smile that crept on her face as she felt the gently-worn leather beneath her hands. The title of the book, like the pages within, were inked by hand. The script was carefully penned to be distinct and easy to read, but the lines contained sharp angles that hinted at a hand trying to keep up with the pace of a busy mind that had a great deal to say and was trying to be economical in how that knowledge was imparted, and contradictory larger and bolder loops that bespoke an innate need of impressing the importance of what was being related.

It was Nikolaos's handwriting, naturally. Their father had started writing down stories of ancient Greece and Egypt, as well as select stories from the Middle Eastern or Asian cultures that came into contact with the two early empires, that he deemed important for his children to be taught because of lessons they imparted. The project had been undertaken after he had married Argyria's mother, in case something happened to him later on and he was unable to impart those stories orally, or to preserve them for posterity for later generations that he knew he wouldn't be alive to help raise. By the time Argyria was born, there was a veritable encyclopedia's worth of stories; with a book dedicated to each major character or event.

The priestess-in-training now knew there was a bit of bias in those stories, given her father's contentious relationship with the divine; but his accounts she had grown up with had still been closest to the accounts Maggie knew and passed on, and sometimes had important missing context he had supposedly pieced together from various sources for academic purposes. She could also now hazard an educated guess those unnamed sources were really himself or people he had known in past lives or talked to in the afterlife, not obscure authors from Europe that might not have been published through American printing houses.

Argyria curled up with her brother on the bed and began reading him the opening chapter of The Life and Labors of Alcides. Like so many of the stories her father told, the story didn't immediately open on the supposed demigod's misdeeds and punitive labors that were well known under his common epithet of "Hercules", but instead on the surrounding political and spiritual climate leading up to his birth, which influenced how his story came to pass as it did.

"…and so to deny the unborn Alcides his rightful inheritance of the kingdom, Hera sent to the palace of Amphitryon her faithful servant, the goddess Eileithyia, to impede the birth of Zeus's son…" Argyria's words trailed off as her intuition tickled at her attention and caused her to critically analyze the lesser details of the famous story she was reading to her brother. She barely noticed her baby brother looking up at her in confusion caused by the mid-sentence pause. Then the pieces clicked together in her mind to form a proper answer.

"Son of a b—" the sound drew out as the young woman saw her brother's confused expression growing and she caught the swear about to come out of her mouth, and she hastily altered what she was saying to the first thing she could think of with a guilty cringe, "—arbareai…"

"Abarbareai?" Hektor asked. "Alcides wasn't the son of one of the Abarbareai and Zeus." He pointed a paragraph higher, "That says Alkmene, a mortal queen; you just said so."

Argyria gave a stiff nod. "Yes, Hektor, that's what I said, and that's who his parents were. I just thought of something that I need to speak with bampás about when we're all done reading for today."

"Something about the Abarbareai?" Hektor asked, still confused.

"… Not quite," Argyria said with a grimace. "Anyway, don't worry about it. Let's get back to our story for today…"

A couple hours later, the young woman called a break from their story time to let the child go to the bathroom while she ran downstairs to fetch them a snack and get a much needed glass of water for herself. She detoured, however, to her father's borrowed bedroom. Not finding him there, she called out, "Alright, where are you, you unmitigated egomaniac?!"

"Oh, how I have missed the melodic sounds of my loving daughter's voice echoing down hallways…" Nikolaos's wry response came from further down the hall where Eneas' library was. As said daughter stormed into the room, he continued his casual reading of one of his favorite war treatises of this world, the works of Sun Tzu. "What, pray tell, has set your hair alight this afternoon?"

Argyria was tempted to grab the nearest hardbound book off a shelf and toss it at him to wipe the smirk off his face, but she didn't want to disrespect her uncle's property in such fashions. "Alcides, son of Zeus and Alkmene, better known as Heracles, was the recipient of a wrathful goddess's attention throughout his life…"

"Yes. Takhisis has conceived or stolen many guises throughout her efforts to pay The Three back for diminishing her in their practices here as nothing more than an obsolete goddess of discord…" Nikolaos said with smirk growing, gaze staying on his book. "This is a surprise to you in what way?"

"Were you Alcides too?"

Nikolaos's smirk grew as he flipped a page. "No. His failures were part of why it was deemed necessary to bring me into this world…"

"Well then, that finishes explaining everything."

"Explaining what, precisely?"

"Don't pretend like you don't know!"

"I'm not currently reading your mind, daughter of mine. Don't have that spell committed to memory at the moment. You'll need explain why you're on a rampage."

Argyria stomped her foot, glaring all the more at the former monarch for his feigned ignorance. "You didn't have a problem with Yiayia and Papou wanting to name me Eileithyia because it was too pagan, and you didn't in turn decide on Argyria as a neutral way to settle the debate by naming me for my eyes! 'Hera' supposedly sent Eileithyia to try stopping Alcides' birth from happening…"

Nikolaos snorted back a laugh. "Yes, Solinari made the exceptionally stupid move of attempting to explain to his parents ahead of time why he was going outside his little polyamorous arrangement with his counterparts to sire a demigod bastard. It got back to Takhisis that her son was allowing his counterpart to spawn on his own, and said spawn was intended to unite the Greek nations and permanently drive out her chaotic influences… Now how does that play into your name?"

"Alcides fell short of uniting the Greek nations during his life time, but he did manage to destroy a number of otherworldly beasts Hera sent after him or to plague the world in general. Some of his deeds benefitted one of his closest friends, Peleus, who was also the subject of much wrath from Eris for marrying the goddess Thetis and eventually birthing Achilles…"

"Yes, Takhisis still hasn't forgiven Zeboim for birthing my initial incarnation in this world to ensure I adapted properly after having spent so long in, shall we say, less than corporeal form and having some difficulties squishing back into a meat suit to pick up where Alcides failed…"

"…Wait…" Argyria's thoughts came to a screeching halt and backtracked. "So Zeboim was…"

"Don't give me that look, it's not like I fucked her while she was that incarnation's mother," Nikolaos said with smirk remaining. "A divine lover helping create an acceptable vessel for a champion's soul is hardly the strangest arrangement to happen when dealing with gods. How do you think she slipped into this world in the first place? The Three let her in, with the promise I'd be back to pleasing her in subsequent lives as payment for her aid. When the split loyalties got too dangerous to maintain, Nuitari evicted Zeboim to keep her from incurring a potentially suicidal amount of Takhisis's wrath on herself."

"I guess that explains why 'Eris' was so very pissed about that wedding between Thetis and Peleus, to the point of triggering the Trojan War…"

"That proxy war was coming whether or not we pulled that little stunt to get me here. It just so happened that doing so gave The Three their needed edge to win and complete the prophesized dynasty of 'Zeus' uniting the 'civilized' world."

"Supposedly brought to pass through Alexander the Great, a direct member of the Heracleidae as a scion of the Argead Dynasty and, according to you, he was also a descendant of Achilles and that was why he was known to favor stories of his predecessor..."

"I am my own best source of inspiration at times…"

Argyria's glare became ever more disgruntled. "And if 'Hera' had gotten her way with Alcides, neither of your two most famous incarnations in this world would have been born. Hence you resenting giving any sort of nods to Eileithyia and, instead of finding a truly neutral way to settle the matter with Papou and Yiayia, you decided to further stick it to Takhisis by naming me not after my eyes, but after the Dynasty that turned the tide against her and fulfilled the destiny of Alcides' line."

Nikolaos set his book down and gave a slow clap. "You really were paying attention to all your lessons as a child, weren't you? So why exactly are you angry?"

"Because you once again made everything about you!" Argyria said with frustration. "Everything is about glorifying your name! Making sure your name is on everything for ages to come! I'm stuck trying to get ready to fill this position as a proxy caretaker for The Three because of a deal you made, and you couldn't even let me do it with a name of my own!"

Nikolaos rolled his eyes and then turned his gaze back to his book. "I'll remind you that I may have made your legal name what it is, but I've respected your mother's wishes by calling you Penelope, despite how much you hate that I do because your grandparents poisoned your opinion of the name by filling your head with the notion it was bad luck."

"It's not that they thought the name was bad luck, it's that they thought you had bad intentions in giving it!"

"So they told you…" Nikolaos said with irritation in his tone. "If you're that upset over the legal name you have, Penelope, you've survived to adulthood. Nothing is stopping you from running to the nearest courthouse and changing it to accommodate your mother's wishes. It's not as though your current name is attached to many things right now; it shouldn't be problematic to make a transition to a name you might prefer to bear in the memoires of history after you make your grand entrance as this world's savior."

"Who said that's what I want to do?!"

Nikolaos gave a sigh, gaze turning back up. "What is it that you want then? Just to rant at me for another supposed injustice I've done you? Or do you want a new name entirely?"

Argyria gave an exasperated huff, arms crossing in front of her. "I don't know… Maybe I do want something that's entirely my own. It's not like I've really been given much time to consider it against everything else that's been happening."

Nikolaos snorted back a humorless laugh, shaking his head briefly and then turning his gaze back to his book. "Good luck coming up with something that isn't complete gibberish to avoid using something that doesn't have ties to some previous person, especially those with some tie to myself. The original Queen Penelope was a damn fine woman, and a faithful wife to one of my most trusted friends and advisors; you could do far worse than sharing a name with her. And at least Argyria or Penelope won't sound ridiculous to be related in conversation or prayers in a few thousand years because they have worthy roots they've sprung from." After several seconds of silence, he asked with a hint of impatience, "Was there something else? Otherwise, you should get back to your visit with your brother."

Argyria was pulled from one set of conflicted thoughts to another. "Now that you mention it, do you really think it's such a good idea to be toying with Hektor learning magic from Krynn? Isn't that just going to make him an even bigger target for enemies?"

"He's going to be a target either way," Nikolaos said bluntly, gaze once again turning to his daughter. "At least this will give him a fighting chance at survival. As for your concerns about it upsetting things here, those Three haven't granted limitless potential to any mage, even those residing in Krynn, since your boyfriend went Godslayer. Raistlin ruined the fun for everyone who came after him in that respect. What Hektor will be allowed to learn will be for emergency uses only; and unlike druids relying on drawing magic from the earth or needing to bother the Three for access to higher magics, he'll be able to cast his magic without causing further strain on the gods' reserves because it's reliant on his own capacity, capped as it may be. Unless you want to attend another premature funeral for a sibling, I don't see what complaint you might have with it."

"It's precisely because I don't want to end up at his funeral that I'm worried," Argyria said indignantly. "Isn't there inherently way more damage he could do to himself if he loses control of mage magic?"

"If you're willing to take the risk to channel pure magic as you've been granted the ability to do, why can't he? There's not much difference."

"He's a child!"

"He won't be forever, and it'll be years before he can cast the smallest of spells, even with intensive study."

Argyria heaved a sigh.

"Penny…" Hektor's voice echoed from the stairs.

"Crap…" Argyria muttered, before calling back, "Be up in a minute, Hektor!"

"Is there any baklava left over?"

"I don't know, but I can check. If not, we can swing by Aunt Maia's cafe later for some."

"Yay! Thank you!"

Argyria shook her head and she said ambivalently to her father, "If you pulling strings to bend the rules for teaching Hektor magic from Krynn ends up getting him torn to shreds, I'm never going to forgive you."

"Do you have a better suggestion for protecting your brother from potential undead, mind-fucking and curse bestowing blood mages, and a demon with a personal grudge against me?"

Argyria sighed again. "Would it really be that unthinkable to allow him to become a High Priest to Solinari or Nuitari?"

"I'd take a summer trip to the Abyss before allowing a child of mine to take up inferior forms of magic."

"It's good enough for my mother, myself, and Lexi."

"Your mother became powerful enough over multiple incarnations that certain rules were suspended during her last to allow for our marriage and your birth. Like your mother, you are not bound by the exact same rules as other High Priestesses because of the role The Three need you to fill. As for your cousin, I may care about Alexandra's survival as my niece and namesake, but she's not my child. She's free to do as she likes. Hektor is my son and he either learns proper magic as I know it, that doesn't require slavish devotion to a god, or none at all."

Argyria groaned and walked out of the room, not wanting a full argument ensuing that could ruin what little time she had with her baby brother. "I can see why The Three got so fed up with mages…"

"You might want to reconsider marrying one, then…" Nikolaos called after her, tone entirely smug. "He's worse than I am. If his scrawny renegade ass actually manages to comes back, the honeymoon phase will fade quick enough and you're going to be wishing The Three never fucked with Time to arrange you two meeting."

Argyria's retreat paused and she snapped back at him, "Bampás, keep negative opinions about Raistlin to yourself, otherwise I'm taking a page from your book and naming any children we might have someday after the Companions of the Lance just to spite you."

A series of what were undoubtedly otherworld swears came from the library, and then she heard heavy footsteps coming up behind her. She turned around fully and Nikolaos asked as he reached the doorway, dark eyes just about blazing with anger, "What in the name of all that is holy and unholy do you see in that man?! Why are you putting me through the prospect of having him as a son in law?"

"What do you mean, what do I see in him?"

"Name one redeeming quality he has; and pissing me off doesn't count, no matter how much retributive amusement that may bring you."

Argyria frowned at her father's derisive comment. "Believe it or not, Raistlin is a far better man than you give him credit for being…"

"You've known him for a few months, and even at this age he's a cold blooded snake with little regard for anything but his own desires. It's only going to get worse and he's going to come back from Krynn as a man you don't know anything about except what illusions he wants you to see…"

"You know what I know, bampás?" Argyria interrupted just as sharply, "I know Raistlin understands a lot of things better than anyone else I know, without me having to trying tearing myself up to explain what's going through my head. I know that his belief that anything is possible with enough willpower carries over to believing I'm capable of living up to the gods' expectations if I try hard enough, and that we can make things work between us if we want it badly enough. I know that even though he hasn't had much cause to get attached to people in Krynn, he understood how much my friends mean to me and how important it was that I have support outside him. So instead of trying to get me to be anti-social like he can be, and then end up isolated once he was gone, he tried to get along with them as well. And you know what? They ended up becoming his friends too, he cares about their wellbeing, and he went out of his way to protect every single one of them.

"And most of all, I know he simply and genuinely gives a damn about me! It has nothing to do with who I was born as, or what roles I will be stepping into. He doesn't care that I'm the eldest Metaxas heir. He doesn't care that I'm some prophesized Divine Speaker. He cares about me, as a person. He worries about me, as a person. He did little things on a daily basis that showed how much he loves me, instead of just saying it and expecting that to be enough. He risked his life and all his potential power in his future to save me now. He loves me to the point where he's willing to risk potentially obliterating himself with the sorts of magic it'll take to come back home when things are done in Krynn so we can try having a life together. So maybe instead of holding a grudge because he killed your dumb and evil younger incarnation, and whatever secondhand information you've heard about other lives he's had, you might want to listen to the words coming out of your own daughter's mouth based on her firsthand observations and experiences. If all the ways he makes me happy aren't enough to qualify him as husband material and prove he's not who you think he is, I don't know what else you'd want for me or who could live up to whatever expectations you'd have.

"And I frankly don't care about trying to make you happy with my private life. This isn't ye olde days where you'd get to arrange who your daughter marries, or suitors need your permission to court me or risk getting set on fire, or there's dumb laws saying I have to marry someone of a specific sort of background. I'm the one who has to live with whoever I marry, and this is one of the few decisions I'm actually being allowed to make for myself, so I'm going to marry the man who makes me happy. So long as Raistlin survives the war in Krynn again and traveling back here, he's who I'm marrying. I don't care if you like it or not. Barring blowing up the whole universe in the process, I don't care what he ultimately needs to do to keep his promise of coming home from where he was sent back to. When he comes home, I'm marrying him and you're going to have to deal with having him in the family. Otherwise I'm gonna pull a Darlene and put you on a contact allowance that can be cut off at any point you cross a line. Unless you want to end up only seeing your daughter and grandchildren for holidays because you're an unbearably overbearing ass, get the hell over who my husband is going to be!"

Nikolaos gave a disgusted grunt, shaking his head, but it was notable that he didn't say anything else in rebuttal as he stalked back into the library.

Argyria took that for the minor victory that it was, and went to her uncle's kitchen to retrieve the snack she promised Hektor and was belated in bringing upstairs to him.

.

.

.

The following weekend Argyria paid a visit to Ivan's house. They hadn't had much time to visit in the last month and a half and a call from Ivan reminded her that there was a certain book Raistlin had left behind for her that she was supposed to be studying from.

Walking through Ivan's house to get to the kitchen was a jarring experience. What used to be an almost museum of ancient artifacts and arcane paraphernalia was in quiet disarray. Stacks of boxes and giant rolls of packaging materials were in every room. Sections of walls were bare, multiple bookcases and display cases were standing empty.

Ivan noticed her melancholy gaze going over the organized chaos his house had become and he gave a commiserating smile. "It is not as though everything is disappearing forever. It is coming with us to the training house and we will make new homes for them as best as can be done."

"Even still… I'm sorry you and Maggie are having to pack up your life's work like this."

Ivan shrugged and gave a fleeting smile. "We are simply bringing to a close one chapter of our lives and opening the next, but it is all part of the same book in dedication to the gods. We serve as called upon, and we do so with pride for being entrusted with such responsibilities. Any sacrifices we make along the way, they are worth making."

"I wish I could feel so confident as you always seem to be," Argyria said, following him into the kitchen, which was currently left untouched because the contents were still needed for daily living. She sniffed the air, and then her eyes widened with delight. "Oh, you made varenniki!"

Ivan chuckled and nodded as he opened the oven door and scent grew all the stronger. "I know how much you enjoy it and thought it would be welcome on a chillier autumn afternoon such as this."

Argyria gave an enthusiastic nod. "Varenniki is always welcome."

Ivan removed the covered pan from the oven that was keeping the little cheese and vegetable filled dumpling warm and then checked the smaller pot simmering on the back burner. "There is also sorrel soup ready to serve with it."

"Ooo, yes please!" Argyria said, going to one of the drawers to retrieve silverware as he reached into a cabinet for the plates and bowls. It wasn't long before they were settling at the kitchen table to enjoy the home cooked meal.

After a few minutes, Ivan ventured asking, "Maggie obviously has been giving me updates as to how your training has been faring, and it sounds as though it is going as well as can be expected. You have your friends now training to serve with you, instead of needing to keep this part of your life separate from them. Despite a few upsets, they are generally taking to their studies enthusiastically. What is causing you to feel less than confident things will resolve themselves as we hope they will be?"

Argyria frowned as she considered the question. "I don't know? …It's not like my senses are pinging at me, saying something is imminently wrong. It's just… I guess it was easier, before, when I didn't know the details of what was going on to believe things would be okay. Raistlin being sent here was obviously a sign something was up, but it seemed like whatever might be happening otherwise couldn't be that big of a deal and he'd be able to handle it easily. Finding out all the stuff about what Takhisis is trying to do, and that there are other influences of Krynn here… That there's this big war brewing… And that I already screwed up one win for us and things went so badly, and that can still happen…" She sighed and finished, feeling like the words were highly inadequate but not knowing how else to phrase it, "It's scary."

Ivan was silent for a short while, then said soberly, "Yes, it is scary." She looked over at him with surprise to him admitting any fear to the situation. "Wars are never a pleasant prospect to face, particularly when one knows their opposition is so dangerous. Our enemies are as heartless as they come and they are not going to hesitate to use whatever cruel or depraved tactics they can conceive to shake our morale and gain the upper hand." The High Priest shook his head as he shook off thoughts of his recent experience with that reality, and said all the more resolutely, "We must remember such is not the first time in history such people have tried to rise up. They gain their footholds through treachery and tricks because otherwise they would have an impossible time enlisting the aid they need among people who are innately adverse to many aspects of their agendas. They build on unstable grounds with false promises, and history shows that those who study such enemies can use the knowledge of these weaknesses to bring their efforts down on them. Despite their actions this summer, we each played our parts as best as we could and we stopped their first attempt at victory. As long as we trust in those who stand with us and remain vigilant, we will continue to route their efforts with each battle until they are once more defeated, and then we will do as necessary to make certain that our victory is not undermined for the future."

"I really, really hope that proves true," Argyria agreed quietly. "Everything that happened, and might happen in the future… It can't all be for nothing."

Ivan reached over and to give her hand a reassuring squeeze, and she squeezed back as he said, "We will not allow that to be the case. We learn from our mistakes and we remember what it is that we are fighting towards. This will someday be remembered as just another instance of evil proving just how weak it truly is in the face of opposition who are properly aware of their tactics and perseverant enough to withstand their blows as many times as was necessary until we could make the finishing strike of our own."

When lunch was finished, Ivan briefly left the kitchen and came back with a familiar bag from the stationary store.

Argyria reached inside and felt not one, but two leather covers beneath her hands. She pulled the top book out and a wistful smile formed as she saw the cover was dyed midnight blue and a rose was imprinted along each of the right hand corners and painted gold. A glance inside the bag showed an identical one to it. "You really are something else, aren't you?" she murmured as tears formed, feeling equally grateful for the gift and painfully missing the one who wasn't there to actually give it.

She flipped open the book and saw writing on the inside cover. A tightly formed script that was all small loops and sharp edges; which she knew was likely a product of her fiancé's preference for clarity in what needed to be imparted and trusting in the words themselves to carry the import, instead of taking time to embellish them for visual impact and wasting precious space with such "frivolities".

"I'm not certain how much time I'm going to have to finish writing these lessons out, but I promise we'll pick up anything I haven't been able to get to when I return. Remember what I've taught you and you'll succeed in learning what's here." Something followed beneath that in Sihir that Argyria didn't understand outside a few familiar words that didn't have enough context to make sense of, and from the slightly different angle it was written at she'd guess that it had been a later addition to the first note.

Argyria's eyebrows pulled together as she wiped the tears from her eyes, gaze going over the third sentence in curious confusion. What had he written there that he didn't wanted to say in "Common"?

She flipped through the book and found all the pages filled with orderly little rows of words, interspersed with small lines of instructions for new sections' rules that were written in Sihir to keep outside parties from understanding what was being explained. The second book turned out to be a continuation of the first volume, as he had apparently run out of pages for his guide book, and was approximately two-thirds full as well. The later entries left off being an almost Sihir-English dictionary in set up. There were dozens of pages of completed translations of entire passages for rituals Maggie had given him, as could be discerned by blips of explanations in English he had left to explain how certain complex ideas or idioms had been translated.

How had he organized and written all this in just a few months? It didn't seem like they had spent enough time apart for him to manage all this when with Ivan and 'Geny. And just what had he written on the inside cover that he hadn't left such an explanation for, leaving her to have to puzzle it out?

Ivan's eyes crinkled with a smile as he saw the young priestess's expression almost mirror a certain young mage's when he was focused on his studies. He wasn't the least surprised when he was asked, her attention going back to the inside cover of the first book and then flipping through the pages, "Ivan, do you have a piece of paper and a pen available?"

Ivan pulled a small notepad and pen from his back pocket and placed them next to her. She gave him a thankful smile and then her attention was back on decoding whatever Raistlin had written for her. "Would you like a cup of tea, little Ria?"

"Yes, please," Argyria said absently, still scanning to find a grouping of letters that resembled the first word. It would take a lot more effort to decode how to properly speak whatever Raistlin had written if she wanted to do so, but right now she just wanted the written translation of whatever it was. "Thank you, Ivan."

It took the rest of the afternoon to navigate the guide, but she managed to locate translations within the two volumes. Word by word his message took form; and even though towards the end she could guess the rest of what was said, she still searched through the guide to find the last words to confirm what he had written. And the private confession brought renewed tears to her eyes as she saw it fully translated out:

"Thank you for teaching me there are leaps of faith worth making, and I pray learning that lesson will secure my success when I attempt to fulfill my oath to you."

Ivan was busy silently preparing a light dinner for the two of them and Yevgeny, who would be home shortly, when he heard a soft sniffle come from behind at the table. He glanced over his shoulder to see his surrogate daughter staring at whatever she had managed to translate. He tentatively stretched out his telepathy just enough to catch her surface thoughts to make sure she was alright, and ended up sensing her think, '…holding you to that promise, Sir Mage, so you better not forget that lesson when it really counts. Master of Past and Present or not, you'll be in big trouble if you psyche yourself out on coming home and force me to figure out some way to drag you back to salvage our plans…'

Ivan smothered a wry chuckle as he withdrew his awareness and left the young woman to her thoughts. Little Ria was apparently just fine; and hopefully Raistlin had learned enough lessons that such a worst case scenario wasn't arrived at and needing some hasty fix to counter. At the moment, that hope was almost more for Raistlin's sake than Ria's. Ivan knew what it was like to be face to face with a heartbroken lover and knowing one had fault in causing that pain. He suspected that if Raistlin making such a misstep didn't obliterate them all immediately by unraveling The Three's plans and collapsing this already tampered with and more fragile point in time, the Godslayer would find himself on the receiving end of a divine wrath that he wouldn't be able to bring himself to take lethal actions to avoid the pains of, and would instead be scrambling in unfamiliar territory to find ways to make amends and broker a peace between them.

.

.

.

The last Saturday before the Winter Solstice, the 16th of December, found the self-dubbed "Companions 2.0" doing what all groups of would-be adventurers enjoy doing- spending money to gear up for their future adventures.

At least, that's the theory that brought them to the mall.

The mentors and Nikolaos were taking care of procuring stocks of all the "practical" stuff they needed at the training house. But the young adults had been deep in studies for over three months and Maggie decided they had earned a reward and break. Stacks of cash were handed out as early holiday gifts and they were told to splurge on whatever portable things would help keep them from going stir crazy once they were sequestered off for more intensive training that would expand beyond academic lessons. They were not going to be allowed to leave the training house on a whim, as that could compromise their security at the location, so there were no protests in accepting the sudden windfall and raiding the stores for sources of entertainment that'd help keep their collective morale up.

Their first stop was an electronics department so that those who didn't have mp3 players could pick one up and have music to listen to while working out or during down time. CDs were scoured over to load up those music players with files, and Brian said that if people couldn't find something, to let him know and he would find file shares online for them to pull. A sizable stack of DVDs next ended up in the cart.

Bags were brought out to Brian's van, and then they were zipping around to the other side of the mall to raid the gaming and hobby store. They were in geek heaven at that point, able to pick out more stuff than they'd usually be able to splurge on. New gaming supplement books, many sets of dice, and mini figures for dungeons or fight grids all found their ways into hand baskets. Argyria stopped into the art section and grabbed a few packages of sketching pencils, paints, and a half dozen new sketchbooks. Norman grabbed wood burning and soldering kits from the model section. Janet and Evan found the tabletop games and grabbed everything from Apples to Apples, Jenga, Scrabble, and even some tubes of pogs from the "retro" section to bolster their old stocks of the tokens.

Lexi wasn't finding much she wanted after selecting her own D&D supplies and said she wanted to head to the Barnes and Nobles to raid their anime and manga selections, which drew interest from most of the group. Victor and Brian volunteered to bring the second round of bags out the van and catch up with them in the store. Questions were called back and forth between aisles as people asked if the others knew of different titles, and at times stopping the others from buying something because someone already owned a series and could loan it out.

By the time they were done at the mainstream bookstore, it was dinner time. Arriving at the food court, the group ended up splitting off to grab their favorite junk food while they could enjoy having easy access to it.

Most of the stuff her friends were heading for, Argyria's stomach still couldn't handle eating. The ambient smell of so many types of fried or grilled meats was swiftly becoming nauseating, and then there was the places with giant clear drink dispensers, many holding red liquids like slushies, juice smoothies or flavored sodas. Even though she logically knew what was in those containers and tried telling herself she couldn't keep thinking it was the other red stuff, just the sight of it made her stomach twist further in revolt. Argyria told her friends she was going to head back down one of the wings of the mall, to the pretzel and ice-cream place, and she'd meet them after she was done eating over there.

Darlene asked if she wanted company. Having seen her best friend eyeing the Japanese buffet with its sushi and teriyaki chicken, Argyria shook her head and told Darlene to enjoy what she wanted.

Argyria made her way through the holiday shopping crowd in that wing of the mall to the secondary, smaller food court at the end where the shop she wanted was, next to a candy store, a Cinnabon, and a cafe. There was a steak house across the walkway, but the scent of the meat wasn't making it past the crowd and over the scents of fresh baked pastries and coffee.

Argyria ordered herself a vanilla ice cream cone and a couple cinnamon sugar covered pretzels, and then found a little table off to one side to enjoy the sweets. Her attention shifted between idly people watching and occasionally watching a good music video playing on one of the big screens around the dining area. It was during the former pastime, smiling to herself as she watched two children succeed in begging their parents to stop and buy some candy, that the opening strains of a familiar song, sung by a favorite Italian female singer, echoed to her ears from one of the closer TVs tuned into MTV.

"Clock is ticking while I'm killing time

Spinning all around

Nothing else that you can do to turn it back..."

Silvery-grey gaze was drawn to the TV, to see Lacuna Coil had apparently released a music video for their song "Our Truth", which was off the CD they had released over the summer.

"Wicked partnership in this crime

Ripping off the best

Condescending smile..."

As much as she had enjoyed the album after she had brought it home from the Sky Show, Argyria's smile still faded as she registered what song was playing because of the bittersweet memories it evoked. During her evening routine with Raistlin when they'd get home from their respective work and she'd give him a massage, if they wanted a break from Sihir lessons or if he wanted her to have some music to try zoning out to and potentially passively connect to her magic, that album with its more hypnotic melodies blended with metal that transitioned smoothly between most tracks made a comfortable fallback for background music.

"Trying to forget

We're falling right through

Lying to forget

We're raising our truth.

Come and tease me..."

Being the third song on the track, at that point Raistlin was usually letting the tension release from his shoulders and sinking into the adorable almost sleepy state he felt comfortable enough to let her see him slip into. If she hadn't slipped into a trance of her own by the time the CD finished its first play through, there was a good chance Raistlin had shifted from being quietly content to a more affectionate mood that demanded a different sort of attention from her. By the time this song came back around for a second play, they were well into a steamy makeout session.

"Clock is ticking while I'm stealing time

Can't you turn it back?

Stop the cycle, set it free, run away..."

And just like these particular song lyrics said, during those moments they had the unspoken agreement they weren't letting themselves think about the fact there was an unknown number sands of their time together and they were steadily running out. It was an inescapable truth lying in wait that could spring on them at any point. The future Master of Past and Present didn't currently have the power to stop it, and she certainly didn't... but their evenings together were their safe haven where they silently told themselves that lurking fate couldn't reach them, not if they willed for this to be their sanctuary and let themselves get lost so deeply in their stolen fervent moments that it couldn't find them.

...Fate, the gods, thankfully they hadn't invaded that sanctuary in such a private moment... but it didn't change that Raistlin had still been taken away and now all she had left were those memories and the hope that things went right to allow him to return... eventually. Days had already turned to weeks, and weeks had turned to months. A brief glance at the clock on the corner of the TV screen for the current time and she could easily tally it as three months, sixteen days, five hours and about seventeen minutes without him returning.

How many more months were going to pass? Would she eventually be counting the time they had lost together in years? The Mother said it shouldn't be two decades, but what about one decade? Could this end up stretching on so long?

"It does not seem right to me, to see such a lovely young lady sitting by herself and in tears during the Yuletide season..." A smooth French accented voice softly slipped into Argyria's awareness, one that was somehow vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place as she was so unexpectedly pulled from her thoughts. Her gaze turned towards the voice as it continued, "... And so I find myself compelled to ask just what could mar a joyous season for one blessed such as you are?"

Dark brown eyes that were almost black met her gaze, and despite the almost playful tone to the query, those eyes seemed only to reflect an oddly deep seriousness.

Argyria blinked in surprise, to both the words and presence of someone, and quickly wiped at her eyes when she realized the man was correct that tears had been gathering to the point of a few slipping down her cheeks.

The man waited quietly for her to gather back up her wits and form a response, and in that time she was glancing him over because he seemed very familiar to her, but she still couldn't place why. He had long black hair pulled back in a tail, delicate features and almond shaped eyes that bespoke some amount of far eastern asian heritage. His tall, lithe frame was mostly covered by a fitted, clearly expensive, charcoal winter jacket, with black dress pants and sleek black leather boots. It was hard to place what age he might be, because his features seemed not much older than her own, but the way he carried himself seemed like someone with far more years and experience that had groomed an easy aura of confidence.

"Um... I'm sorry, sir, but do I know you?" she asked tentatively.

The man hummed pleasantly, a teasing smirk forming at his lips. "I suppose my question was personal for a stranger, wasn't it? My apologies if I've given offense."

Argyria shook her head a little. "No, no offense was taken. I meant that question in seriousness; you look familiar but I don't know why."

He gave a casual shrug. "I am quite certain if we had been formally introduced, we would both remember the event. I do get around, however, with my profession as a music promoter being what it is..."

Argyria's eyes widened with recognition, a smile forming now. "That's what it is! You're Magie De L'amour!"

Magie's smirk grew a fraction with that pleased exclamation. "Oh, so the lady has heard of me?"

Argyria gave a nod. "You were guest DJing at Nova up in Manchester back in May, promoting Lacuna Coil's album. I was there with some friends for my birthday one of those nights. My friend Janet has caught a few of your other promotional tours before then."

"Did you enjoy the show?"

Magie asked that with what almost seemed perfunctory interest, but she also reasoned that might just have been the accent inflecting his words differently.

Argyria gave another nod. "The music was amazing. We caught the Sky Show the next weekend and pretty much all of us picked up copies of Karmacode."

Magie gave a single nod, dark gaze briefly flicking towards the TV, which had a different music video playing. "And yet, here I found you looking distressed while listening to a song that was by that very band and on that very album? I hope you'll forgive me for being all the more confused."

Argyria's smile faded as her own gaze turned down for a moment, recalling just why she had been upset. She gave a sigh and then said as she looked back up, "Sometimes enjoying something so much can be a double-edged sword."

Magie's smirk was absent, though his expression was still pleasant enough as he said, tone all too understanding, "Ah, so it wasn't so much the music as it was things your mind associates with it... There are so many things that can carry such fickle potential, but music can be one of the most poignant mediums."

Argyria gave an agreeing nod. "Yes, it really can be."

"So, if I may be so bold as to guess, given the lyrics of that song and what they'd seem most likely to be attached to, your tears were for one who is not here, but you are wishing was?"

Argyria gave a wistful smile to that and asked ambivalently, "I'm that transparent, am I?"

Magie gave a light laugh. "Or perhaps I've just had so much time learning to read my audience... And I'll be bolder to guess that, from such an expression you had, your sorrow wasn't from said person leaving you, but that there's currently some sort of necessary absence? Different colleges? Military deployment? Familial obligations?"

Argyria couldn't help but stare at him in surprised silence for several seconds. He really was perceptive. After more seconds of thought on how to answer in a way that wouldn't seem weird, she decided one of his suggestions was close enough to the mark. "Military deployment."

Magie nodded once, serious eyes still studying her as he gave another quiet hum to himself. "That may be one of the most difficult reasons to be separated from someone, and even the strongest of hearts are moved to tears during such absences... If I may be so forward as to give some advice?"

Argyria couldn't help the fleeting laugh that bubbled up. "You've been this forward already."

Magie's smirk made a return. "Touché, mademoiselle..."

"...So, Monsieur De L'amour, you had advice I might want to here?" Argyria prompted when the verbose man didn't continue speaking.

"Oui, I did..."

"...And it would be?" Argyria asked, starting to wonder why it almost seemed that he was in some way teasing her.

Magie's smirk remained, but his voice was oddly pensive as he said, "My advice would be for you to remember that, if your absent lover cares for you half as much as you clearly care for him, he would not wish for you to worry so. You should keep your attention to matters that you can control, and trust that he will be doing all that is in his power to return, and his brothers in arms who recognize how rare such a connection is will be doing what they can to aid such a reunion."

Argyria had the strangest feeling like there was more meaning to that advice than was on the surface, but that feeling stopped shy of being a proper intuitive insight as to what was meant.

Magie's dark gaze turned to the TV screen again, smirk curling further as he said, "And until such time as he returns, perhaps you should keep an ear out for music that will inspire in different ways. My own attention has been drawn to obligations I have, and I'm sad to say I'm retiring from the music industry for the foreseeable future, but I do know there's a few up and coming bands whose messages are going to cause quite the stir but, given what little I know of your taste in music, I dare say you just might appreciate..."

"Do these bands have a name, so I might be able to look for their music in particular?" Argyria asked. Her inquiry was partially because she was always open to hearing new music, and partially because the feeling was lingering that he was somehow saying more than she quite realized with his advice and she was trying to get a spark of intuition to help her figure out what was causing that feeling.

Magie gave another quiet hum, then said, "One has not yet released music this side of the ocean, but they have a unique blend of tribal and symphonic metal stylings and go by the name 'Within Temptation'. If you can find an international ordering online, it'd be worth the effort. Some of their songs might evoke stronger emotions, but a bit of catharsis is good for any person... As for the other, they are more local to this country and draw their inspiration from sources that explain themselves in their lyrics. Their music tends to be a bit feistier, especially for 'religious' rock; but like any good rock band, there's some songs that put in words what some might be too proud to say for themselves... And it seems luck would be with the timing of our conversation, as you can hear their first major single for yourself now..."

Argyria turned her confused gaze to the TV screen as she heard piano notes playing, and saw opening images of a cloudy sky flashing. She read the name at the bottom of the screen aloud, as it was odd even by band standards, "Skillet?"

Magie's voice held a trace of laughter as he said, "A mighty weapon, despite its humble origins... Perhaps one of your friends will better understand, if you do not..."

There was no time to ask what that comment meant as lyrics had already started and drew her attention back to the music.

"Despite the lies that you're making

Your love is mine for the taking

My love is

Just waiting

To turn your tears to roses..."

The "rock" aspect of the music suddenly entered the song and the first lyrics repeated, and Argyria almost felt like a lump was forming in her throat at the repeat mention of roses because of who that brought to mind.

"I will be the one that's gonna hold you

I will be the one that you run to

My love is

A burning, consuming fire..."

An image of Raistlin formed in her mind, looking down at her like he had countless times with silent reassurance when she was upset...

"No

You'll never be alone

When darkness comes,

I'll light the night with stars.

Hear the whispers in the dark..."

An image of a warm sunstone, lighting the bedroom and driving away the darkness after a nightmare...

"No

You'll never be alone

When darkness comes,

you know I'm never far

Hear the whispers in the dark..."

Argyria turned a startled gaze to the man standing near her, intuition suddenly going off that he was doing something, just like her father could, and it was causing the memories to rise up in parallel to the music.

Magie gave a small bow of his head, smirk most definitely reflecting an admittance, and unrepetenance, for his trick. "I do believe my services are needed elsewhere now, before it gets too late in the afternoon."

"What did...?! Who are...?!" Argyria couldn't seem to choose the right question to ask in her shock. "Why are you...?!"

"You already know who I am, Blessed One," the man said, tone sardonic yet expression was closer to impish in amusement. "And knowing my name, that tells you all you need to know about where my loyalties lie and why I act as I do." He gave a wink then, and for just the span of that wink his eyes were all the more slanted, his features shifted to be even more sharply angled, and the tops of his ears elongated.

Before Argyria could fully process what her eyes were telling her just happened, the man was turning away and walking behind a small group of people. And then, like magic, he was gone, not walking out from the other side of the group and not to be seen when they shifted.

A supremely shocked whisper escaped her lips because he was right, she did know exactly who he was. "You're not Magie De L'amour... You're the mage, Dalamar..." Raistlin's dark elf apprentice... Dalamar was also roaming her world?! And had decided to pay her a visit?! To try assuring her his shalafi would be returning and give her musical suggestions?! What?!

When Argyria's friends eventually decided to come look for her because she hadn't returned by the time they were all done eating, they found her staring into the crowd. The young woman was lost in thoughts as she tried to once again come to grips with just how inextricably the world of Krynn, that beloved but supposed to be fictional refuge of hers for the last five and a half years, had wrapped itself around every aspect of her life, beyond her wildest imaginings or wishes.

.

.

.

While a certain young woman was sorting through her tangled thoughts in the United States; a certain self-styled "Wishmaster" entered a remote northern Mongolian valley that was all but choked with snow after the last Siberian weather front brought them another storm to deal with. His winter jacket was transfigured into a heavy wool, leather and fur layered deel, and his gloves, pants, and boots were likewise changed to blend with traditional clothing of the region.

The first rays of dawn were alighting the gers standing alone or in small groups of two or three along the floor of the valley, and smoke from breakfast fires could be seen twisting up from them. Dalamar's path brought his horse zigzagging between these circular dwellings, following paths that had already been broken by the others and sometimes needing to travel a kilometer or more to get to the next ger. He knocked on the brightly painted door of each and greetings were exchanged between himself and the head of each family in the clan, and gifts he was carrying in the bag over his shoulder were presented. The packages he was delivering contained various mixes of medicines that were hard to obtain in places like this, household items that would be time consuming to make by hand, materials needed for making new clothes, and other items he was aware the respective families needed.

Only when the last gifts had been given for their hosts' continued hospitality and aid, and formalities were dispensed, did he turn his path towards the last pair of gers in the valley that belonged to this clan. As his hardy horse was brought to a halt some thirty meters from the gers, to be housed with a few others in the makeshift stable, the dark elf could make out conversation taking place in one of the gers. He couldn't help but listen as he led his horse inside and used a few magic shortcuts to situate the animal for the day.

"... It's complete shite, Lemuel, and you know it. It's bad enough I woke up in this bloody wasteland; but while I'm stuck freezing my arse off and being put through a boot camp from hell, he's coming and going as he pleases! This is outrageous! I want to go home!"

"Rhuadhán, I know it's uncomfortable here, but this really is for…"

"I swear to The Three, Lemuel, if you say one more time this is for my own good…

"Rhuadhán, please, come sit down and have a cup of tea and calm yourself. You have less than an hour before you need to go out with the hunters for your morning lesson, you don't need to start off on an agitated note."

"I am not going out today! There's near two meters of gods damned snow out there! I'll freeze before I'm out of the valley…"

"Not if you're bundled up properly…"

"This shite doesn't keep the cold out once the wind kicks up! It's not fit for man or beast out there!"

"Which is precisely why you're going out today," Dalamar's voice cut through their argument as he opened the door, leveling a displeased look on his Shalafi. "You, you spoiled brat, are supposed to be using magic to rise above such common complaints."

Rhuadhán Daye turned around so swiftly that his long, near-crimson braid whipped out in an arc and would have hit his flustered best friend in the face, had the former monk not ducked to avoid it quickly enough. His sapphire blue gaze went to the interloper who was his tormentor, and pale cheeks flushed further with anger at the sight of the dark man glaring so patronizingly at him. "Spoiled brat?! I'm a spoiled brat? You're the one who dropped me here without my say, and then have the nerve to go gallivanting wherever you please because you can't be arsed to live the same way you've condemned the rest of us to live."

"I have nothing to prove of my skills, little master," Dalamar said with sarcasm dripping from every syllable of the honorific. "And as it happens, I was off in the middle of the night to retrieve such things our kind hosts had need of to make sure they continue putting up with your entitled attitude as they try to whip you into proper shape."

"There's not one problem with the shape I'm in!" Rhuadhán all but yelled in fury, gesturing to the lean, hard-muscled form that daily workouts under Master Horton's tutelage ensured was maintained, and was currently covered in annoying wool sleeping clothes. "What I need is a proper fucking bed, a proper loo to take a shite in, and a few liters of wine to make up for the fermented horse swill being provided!"

"By the gods, I had blissfully forgotten what a whining, fastidious priss you could be," Dalamar muttered with a disgusted shake of his head.

"Excuse me? What…"

"There is no excuse for you right now," Dalamar snapped out, and at the same time fingers of one hand snapped.

Rhuadhán found himself unable to move as the dark man stormed over and thunderous gaze bored into him.

"You are supposed to be spending your waking moments focused on training your power properly, but you're wasting time whining over little inconveniences like some delicate little princess worried she might break a nail with a little labor!" Dalamar's voice was quiet, but his words hissed out with all the lethality of a viper warning of an imminent attack. "You should be able to break free of a binding such as this by now, and yet you can't because you've spent far too long coasting by on your innate gifts, instead of working as hard as you can to expand them. You need to shape up if you are to prove yourself worthy of being Consort to The Daughter, otherwise you're going to get yourself killed in the first battle against our enemies!"

Rhuadhán's gaze became as frigid as the weather outside as he bit out, "How many times do I need to say it? Arranged pairings are fucking medieval and this is a violation of my free will! I don't want to be consort to some hag I've never met! I don't care whose daughter she is!"

Lemuel was quite certain Dalamar was about to strike their master for such words, hand jerking up to face level. The dark elf must have had second thoughts, however, reminding himself of who they were truly dealing with, even if said master wasn't quite himself at the moment, because the hand closed and he pointed a long finger instead, tip of a manicured nail a mere inch from their master's nose.

"You are, without a doubt, the most ungrateful bastard to walk all of the worlds," Dalamar told his master through clenched teeth. "Even when you're being offered all the boons a man could ask for, you're not satisfied. Perhaps I should leave you to freeze out here and others can be elected to take your place." A gesture unbound the young man, sending him dropping to the floor.

Rhuadhán caught himself with both hands before he could impact with the ground and twisted, leg lashing out in a blur of movement and catching the back of Magie's knee. As the dark man stumbled from the unexpected assault, another unnaturally swift kick to the other leg brought him crashing down next to his ward. A dagger was in Rhuadhán's hand before the other man could recover, and the blade was at Magie's throat as a hand, deceptively strong for how slender it was, grabbed hold of the front of his deel and twisted to cut off the supply of air making it through his throat.

Rhuadhán leaned in, sapphire gaze near feral as he said in Sihir, each syllable cracking with icy promise, "I think, Master De L'amour, that you forget who you're speaking to. I may not be at the height of my power, but if you continue to insult me, you'll find me pulling your tongue out through your throat and cooking it up for my next meal."

A gentle hand came to rest on Rhuadhán's shoulder, and Lemuel's soothing voice interceded. "Master Rhuadhán, I know you're being asked to make a number of sacrifices, but we all serve as called upon to do. Magie, abrasive as he might be at times, is only doing his job to try preparing you for the responsibilities awaiting you." Piercing blue gaze turned up at him, jaw visibly clenching as a sharp rejoinder was clearly being debated on. "Your skills are far advanced for your age in some areas, no one here can deny that, but your magic has much farther it needs to go. Uncomfortable as a 'sink or swim' style of training may be, doing things Magie's way has already been increasing your stamina for channeling steady streams of magic. And if you cut out his tongue, you'll find it rather hard to learn the many spells Magie has at his disposal and can teach you once you're capable of casting them. Tolerate the situation as it is, and you will be rewarded for those efforts in many ways later."

Rhuadhán gave a resentful huff and the dagger disappeared back up his sleeve to the holster there. He all but shoved his new mentor to the ground as he lifted himself standing. Casting a final glare at his tormentor, who was coughing as the pressure crushing his throat was suddenly gone, he turned his back and stalked to the other side of the room to the camp table where his tea was waiting for him. A flick of his finger heated it back up as he sat down, and he sipped at it as he stared at the meager fire crackling in the center of the floor.

Dalamar lifted himself to his feet and heaved a sigh that was one part relieved to not need unleash defensive measures against his Shalafi that would further inflame the situation, and one part frustrated with needing to deal with his master in such states to begin with.

Lemuel gave him a look that was equally reproving for causing their master's already strained temper to snap, and knowingly amused at being the one to keep the dark elf from potentially incurring the consequences of said temper. "Well, now that that unpleasantness is over… Did you find everything you needed while out, Magie?"

Dalamar cast a cleaning cantrip to remove the dirt from his deel and pants, then said, "Yes, I did." He walked back towards the door, picked up his enchanted bag, and pulled out a paper shopping bag. "There was an instrument shop near where I went for purchases, so I picked this up to replace the one you left behind in London. An early Merry Yule to you."

Lemuel's expression brightened at the announcement, and he walked over to accept the peace offering. His brows furrowed in confusion, however, as he read the name on the side of the bag. "Where were you off shopping? I don't recognize this company."

"I don't imagine you would," Dalamar said with a smirk twitching at his lips. "Not unless you're familiar with independent music stores in the States…"

Lemuel's gaze shot up from the package, wondering if the dark elf was joking, but he saw Dalamar appeared serious in his statement.

Rhuadhán's gaze was also on the older magic-user. "You went all the way to the States and back in one night?"

Dalamar gave an noncommittal hum and shrug.

"How?"

"I have many tricks up my sleeves, little master," Dalamar said, smirk fully forming as he glanced over. "You might want to keep that in mind, as even your brief bursts of enhanced speed will only aid you just so far when trying to make good on threats to my person."

"Where in the United States were you, Magie?" Lemuel interrupted before they could get into another battle of words, or worse, to ask what seemed the far more important question.

"Does it really matter?" Dalamar asked, enjoying the look of consternation on the monk's face. "I can promise you, no one saw me save those I wished to see me."

"And who, precisely, did you wish to let see you?" Lemuel asked, suspicions solidifying as to just why the dark elf chose such a faraway place to fetch supplies.

"You saw Her, didn't you?" Rhuadhán's question was rhetorical because his intuitive senses were providing the answer already.

"If The Daughter happened to be doing holiday shopping of her own while I was out, one can hardly hold me to blame for that," Dalamar said slyly. "And if she was already there, would it not be a prudent measure to take a few minutes to check on how she's been faring in the last half a year?"

"I'm sure it was entirely coincidental…" Lemuel said dryly.

"I always seem to have the most impeccable luck with timing," Dalamar agreed blithely, walking over to the table where his master was sitting to pour himself a cup of tea as well.

"Well, do you plan to share any of your observations?" Rhuadhán asked with an impatient glare. "Or do you plan to just drop vague little comments to gloat over your freedom of movement?"

"I thought you didn't care in the least about the 'hag' you're so adamant on not being paired with?" Dalamar reminded him with feigned pleasantness as he poured a measure of the fresh and delicate green tea that was easily procured in this region of the world and one of the definitive perks of being here.

"I don't," Rhuadhán said briskly, sapphire gaze turning back down to his own cup of tea. "But you prats keep pressing I don't have a say in the matter, so I might as well make the obligatory enquiry."

"As you say, little master," Dalamar said, giving a sarcastic little bow. He reheated his tea with a silent command as he straightened his stance and then took a sip.

"You're trying my patience again, Magie," Rhuadhán warned.

"Hm, yes…" Dalamar agreed. "I'm quite certain, however, that by the time you actually gain the power to do something permanent about it, your attitude is going to be drastically different and you'll be thanking me for not indulging this childish sulking of yours."

"Magie," Lemuel said, a different sort of warning in his tone. "Perhaps you should get on with answering Master Ruadhán's question."

Dalamar heaved an aggrieved sigh. "I'm never allowed to have any fun…"

"Welcome to the club," Rhuadhán said bitterly, setting his tea cup back on the table. He stood up and crossed the room to where his little bed pallet was, and began rifling through the chest for his hairbrush. Upon finding it, he sunk down on the heavy wool and animal skin blankets. He began pulling loose the braid keeping his hair from his face and piling up the beads that acted as focusing talismans, and as he did so he asked, "Was there anything actually worth mentioning about your little field trip? Or did you simply bring it up to annoy me with further reminders of my compulsory commitments?"

"Well, I did think to get you a Yuletide gift as well," Dalamar mentioned casually. "It may be of more interest to you than a report on your betrothed, but I'm not sure if you've been a good enough boy to deserve more than coal this year."

Rhuadhán snorted back a humorless laugh. "Make it a large sack of coal to help keep this infernal hut warm, and I'd be grateful for it."

"You know the cantrip if you want to be warmer. The fire is only to burn enough to cook your food and keep you from dying of hypothermia when you're feeling too lazy to use them."

"It's a waste of my magic," Rhuadhán insisted.

"It's an exercise of your ability to cast such magics," Dalamar said immovably.

"I can cast that damn cantrip all day if I want," Rhuadhán said resentfully. "It doesn't raise the temperature high enough."

"It will if you learn to put more magic behind the casting," Dalamar replied. "Stop being so complacent in what you know."

Rhuadhán rolled his eyes and, last of the beads removed and hair untwisted, cast a cleaning cantrip on the dark red locks. The faint smell gone, he began brushing the snarls from sleeping out. A small white box came arcing at him, and the hand not holding the brush left his hair to catch it. The cardboard was shaped like a cube, hinged like a jewelry box, but felt a bit too weighty for what was inside to be jewelry… and he could faintly sense a magic aura coming from inside it. Confused gaze went to the dark man, who was downing the last of his tea. "What's this?"

"Your Yule gift, Master," Dalamar said with smirk returning. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it sounds as though Sir Anthony and Master Horton are done their morning chores, and I need discuss a few things with them. Try to keep from excessive grumbling over the weather conditions while you're out today. The Rams won't be impressed and will tell the Wolf Clan when next they pass through, and then you'll find yourself being put through all the more trouble while out ranging with them."

Rhuadhán gave a suffering groan as his instructor from hell sauntered out of the ger. Once the door was closed, he muttered sullenly, "I hate that bloody man."

"And here I thought you two were becoming so fond of one another…" Lemuel drawled, taking up one of the two unoccupied chairs at the table and opening up his own present. Within lay a flute. An exquisitely carved and polished wooden flute with an intricate floral motif painted up one side. Lemuel blinked in surprise, as he had not expected quite so fine a replacement for his old flute that had been left behind while preoccupied with trying to make sure the young master was properly prepared for being so abruptly transported while in an incapacitated state.

"That's a genuinely lovely piece of craftsmanship," Rhuadhán said with grudging approval when Lemuel lifted the instrument up and he caught sight of it.

Lemuel gave a nod, turning it over to inspect it from all angles. "It will undoubtedly produce quite the smooth notes from how it is hollowed out… And from the feel of it, I think Magie put some sort of preservative enchantment on it so the craftsmanship won't degrade."

Rhuadhán glanced down at his own box, mildly curious now to see what Magie might have gifted him. He set his brush aside, flipped the catch on the front of the box, and lifted the lid… To find sitting on a fluffy bed of cotton what looked like a snowy white ceramic egg incased in silver filigree.

"What did Magie give you?" Lemuel asked with interest, unable to see from where he was sitting and with the lid of the box up.

"…I'm honestly not sure…" Rhuadhán said, eyes narrowing as he glanced it over in search of some clue and not finding one. He lifted up the little egg from its resting place, it was only perhaps two inches tall, and in doing so he could spot an irregularity in the filigree work, a line going up and around the egg, to a well concealed hinge on one side. Realizing the egg was some sort of container, not the present itself, he slipped a short nail between the crack opposite the hinge, and felt a catch give when pressed.

The egg cracked neatly in half and swung open, revealing two smooth ceramic surfaces, as bare as the rest of the egg, save for the fact that each had the faintest blue glow to them.

"…What in the world?"

Lemuel had set his flute aside and was now walking over. His eyes widened in surprise when he caught sight of the present. "Oh, I haven't seen one of those in ages…"

"What is it?" Rhuadhán asked, confused gaze still on what was obviously some sort of artifact.

"Well, back before there were the conveniences of such things as photography and videos, there was still the desire to preserve moments for future reflection. That's a sort of magical locket. Touch either half and I expect an image or moving picture will appear, much like a hologram."

Rhuadhán's lips pursed together in thought and he did as instructed, touching the left side and curious to see a new bit of magic at work.

A three-dimensional image sprung up, like an incorporeal bust sitting on a pedestal, of a woman's countenance from the neck up. A woman with hair not quite as red as his own, but the strands caught some source of light and was reflecting back glints of various shades of red and golden-red; the wavy tresses were pulled back in little braids and decorated with tiny blue flowers. Her features were pale and ethereal, with delicate, somewhat high cheekbones and full rosy lips gently turned up in a smile. Dark auburn lashes that were nearly black framed eyes, silvery-grey eyes, that were nearly shimmering with delight about something she was apparently viewing.

Lemuel saw something pass over his master's face as said young man stared at the unexpected sight before him- his first glimpse of The Three's daughter. The arrogant mask Rhuadhán usually wore, often embellished with some variation of boredom or annoyance, slipped away. His expression went blank, angular jaw slackening with shock. And then eyes, that were darker in this incarnation than the first they met in, flashed with something that wasn't his usual base desire upon seeing a particularly attractive young woman he might want to have passing entertainment from. It was certainly a sort of desire kindling, but it was one fueled by a reverent awe for what had caught his attention.

Which was confirmed when a thunderstruck whisper escaped Rhuadhán, unable to properly put words to the impression that had risen up and consumed the thoughts that had been plaguing him just moments earlier. "She's… She's…"

Lemuel couldn't help the teasing smile creeping across his face as he ventured, "Not quite the fearsome hag you were afraid she might be?"

"She's…" Rhuadhán was all but mesmerized by the sight.

"She's quite lovely?" Lemuel offered.

"She's like…" Rhuadhán murmured, gaze still sweeping over the details of the image. "She's like the forces of the universe and nature brought to female form…"

"She's The Daughter," Lemuel reminded him with a hint of laughter. "Born of Mother Earth and gifted by both fathers of Light and Dark."

"She's perfection…"

"To some, I suppose she would be considered so..."

Rhuadhán finally managed to pull his gaze from the image, raising an eyebrow at his best friend. "You're telling me you can conceive of someone beyond this?"

Lemuel's eyes crinkled as he gave a merry laugh. "What would you prefer me to be saying? Do you want me to tell you that I'm wildly jealous of the honor you've been given to be at her side and helping ensure the Vision of The Three finally comes to pass for this world?"

Rhuadhán held back an edgy laugh, gaze turning back to the image. He tapped the left panel to make it disappear, and then tapped the right to see what sort of image was contained there and not expecting to be caught so unaware now that he realized what Magie's gift was about.

And yet, the dark elf still managed to catch his unwitting master-temporarily-turned-apprentice off guard again.

Because the right side didn't contain a stationary portrait of The Daughter's face. It was an image of the full length of her; her slender form adorned in a blue belly dancing outfit just covering enough to be considered decent for public viewing. She was undulating enticingly to unheard music, moving in what appeared to be shifting shadows and pulses of light; and that light was catching and reflected back in her eyes, on the strands of silver laced through locks of hair that swayed down the length of her back, and on a silver chain around her waist that bore charms of stars, roses, and hourglasses. The image followed her movements for several seconds before pausing a moment and then looping back to repeat.

Lemuel saw an all too familiar sort of desire pass over Rhuadhán's face then, but it was almost ferocious in intensity as he watched the tantalizing display. One would almost think the young master had been starved for the last two weeks and then Dalamar had placed the most succulent of steaks in front of him.

The mystic turned his back and went to fetch a cup of tea for himself to let his friend view the image with some semblance of privacy, lips tightening to hold in a laugh that wanted to rumble out. Leave it to Dalamar to get their master all riled up in one way as the bait to draw him in, and then drop a lure to turn that heightened emotional state into a different sort of being riled up… Their master was undoubtedly going to be feeling a great deal more motivated to focus on his studies so he could gain the chance to see for himself if she was as alluring as the images promised.

The Three well knew what they were doing when they made their plans for spawning their child to guard their world, and then altered how they brought her forth to ensure the young deity would be properly protected. Magic had always been Raistlin's addiction, and despite best efforts he couldn't shake that addiction over his later incarnations, only managing to temper it for a short time or place himself in positions where there was no means to feed into it. Dangling in front of the Master of Time a reward that was magic rejoined and able to flow in its purest state, and placed in a physical vessel specifically chosen to entice his preferences? And The Daughter had been more satisfied on a personal level with the new guardian offered to her than she had been with the pair who failed their duty in the previous timelines, dangerous as it might be to arrange all this and fickle as his temperament could be?

Lemuel was feeling hopeful that they just might manage to survive Takhisis's wrathful plotting after all; and, for once, his dear friend might actually find some peace of mind.