Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Raistlin or Dalamar. If I did most D.L. books would be full of slashy goodness! ::beats back rabid fangirls with a stick::
Chicken?!?! I prefer the duck.
"No, no Dalamar! You add the Sage before the Marjoram."
Sighing, the young apprentice poured out the contents of his latest project and began anew. "I'll never get this right. How does my Shalafi expect me to summon dragons or demons from the Abyss when I can't even perform a simple spell such as this?" With trembling hands the Dark Elf poured in the two ingredients in what he deemed to be the proper order. Saying a short chant in the Language of Magic, he added the chicken.
Dalamar smiled as the concoction began to glow; however, his smirk vanished in a burst of light and an explosion of chicken.
In his study, Raistlin looked up from his work as he felt the violent tremors spawned from his apprentice's failed project. Rising quickly, he snatched the Staff of Magius from his side and ran into the twisting staircases outside of his study. He began to descend into the darkness, whispering "Shirak," as he went. The corridors filled with an eerie blue light at his spoken command. Moments later the door of Dalamar's study burst open and slammed against the adjoining wall.
In the doorway stood the silhouette of a thin black-robed mage. Entering the fragrant room, Raistlin's hourglass eyes came to rest on a tall growth of chicken and dumplings. Dalamar stood in front of his cauldron dripping with spell components, as was his entire study, lost in his thoughts.
Not realizing his Shalafi was in the room he began to speak to himself. "By the gods, why me? Just a simple spell it said, it'll just take a second it said. Hmph," the elf snorted in derision. "I didn't know there was this much chicken in all of Krynn." Dalamar wiped the thick substance from his eyes and began to pry his feet from the mounds of chicken and dumplings holding them when a raspy cough broke his concentration. He looked up only to find his Shalafi staring down at him with mocking contempt, a cynical smirk on his lips.
"So I see we have tried our hand at cooking." Dalamar's eyes widened in shock, wringing the sticky soup from his long, raven colored hair he waded over toward the spell-book he had been using. Lifting it gently, he wiped the chicken from the cover to find not the common hourglass emblem of his master's spell-books, but in big flashy letters, The Magic of Cooking.
Sighing in defeat the Dark Elf threw the tome into a pile of chicken and went to get some buckets to begin the laborious cleanup. With a deep bow to his master, Dalamar set off down the corridor at as fast a sprint as he could manage in his restrictive robes. A high-pitched laughter echoed from behind him, sending shivers up his spine.
Upon his return the Dark Elf found, not the piles of ooze he had left behind moments ago, but his study as it was before the explosion. Hesitantly Dalamar stepped into the room and glanced around. His master, Raistlin, was sitting behind his desk. Golden hourglass eyes stared at Dalamar from beneath Raistlin's black hood, and he noticed his Shalafi was nibbling on a bowl of steaming chicken and dumplings. "You know young apprentice, you really should go cleanse yourself. Afterward you will come talk with me."
A dangerous gleam caught in Raistlin's eyes, forcing Dalamar to avert his. "Yes Shalafi," he mumbled almost inaudibly, "at once." Giving Raistlin another deep bow, the Dark Elf walked away into his private chambers. "Oh and Dalamar." Dalamar hurried back to meet Raistlin's gaze. "Yes master?"
Raistlin relaxed back into his apprentice's chair, a genuine smile touching his thin lips. "The Marjoram comes before the Sage."
A/N: YAY!!! Please R&R, or else I'll sic Raisty-chan on you!!!