Half-Dragon
Disclaimer/Author's Notes: I don't own anyone except Moruadh and Keaira. I also own this plotline. Anything else.I wish!!!! Either this chapter will be the last, except for closing author's notes. Looking forward to your reviews!!!
Part 9: Moruadh's Gifts
Raistlin blasted the ice sarcophagus with his magic. He swore. There was no effect. Dalamar tried his hand at it. He, too, failed. Silvan tried his luck with his bow, Gilthas with his sword. They, too, failed.
"Your turn, Keaira," someone said. She felt-strange is the only word for it. She felt as if she was at one with the body in the ice. She walked over to it. "Arise, Ice-Sister," she whispered in elven, touching the ice lightly. To her shock-and the shock of all the others present-the ice disappeared.
Moruadh rose. "Thank you, Ice-Sister," she said, in a voice as cold as ice, as sweet as death, as fulfilled as life. The five pilgrims-for they could only be called that-dropped to their knees in the face of this beautiful goddess. "Thank you for freeing me, Ice-Sister," she said softly, lightly touching Keaira on the shoulder. Her eyes flicked to the four men. "You helped her reach this place. To all of you, therefore, I bestow gifts: the most secret, guarded desire of your heart." The five pilgrims gasped as one. "I reward those who help me," she said with a smile. She turned to Silvanoshei. "Rise, Silvanoshei," she said. He did so, tremblingly. He met the goddess' white-blue eyes. She smiled gently. "You needn't be afraid, Silvanoshei. I will not hurt you. I only intend to give you a gift: Silvanoshei, King of Silvanesti, I present you with the power of Memory. You are now able to, at your will, call upon all the memories of all the elves living and dead on Krynn. That means you remember everything the first elf knew, and everything the elves just being born know. That is the gift I give you."
Silvan sighed. He knew he had knowledge-knowledge equaled by none-not even Fistandantilus himself.
Moruadh turned to Gilthas. "Rise, Gilthas." He did so, coming forward with some trepidation. Not as much as Silvan, for he had seen what great power the goddess had. He had also seen that she would not hurt him. "Gilthas, King of Qualinesti, I present you with the power of Empathy. You are now able to sense and identify the emotions of all beings within a fifty mile radius. Of course, you can block this out when it is hurting you, Gilthas, but the power is yours until the end of your days. That is the gift I give you."
Gilthas sighed. He now sensed the emotions of all present. The deep thankfulness of Silvan, the hope trembling on ecstasy of Dalamar, the tangled, mixed emotions of Keaira, and the not-quite-namable emotions of the mysterious companion. Suddenly, he realized who that companion was. Raistlin Majere.
"Rise, Dalamar Argent." He did so. He came forward, halfway between eager and afraid. Moruadh smiled. "Dalamar Argent, also known as Dalamar the Dark, I present you with your old magic. You have all the power, all the knowledge, you once had. This gift is yours for as long as you shall live. That is the gift I give you."
Dalamar sighed. He could feel the magic coursing through his veins once more. It called to him, shrieked to him, begged to be used. Later, he told the magic. Later I will draw upon you. I want it as much as you want it. It was only later that he realized how ludicrous it was. He was so ecstatic to have the magic back that he was speaking to it, as if it was a living being. He returned to his place in the semicircle, kneeling with even greater reverence than before as he watched Raistlin be presented with his gift.
"Rise, Raistlin Majere," Moruadh said. Gilthas gasped. Keaira glared at him and elbowed him in the side. Moruadh hid her smile. Raistlin came forward at Moruadh's command. For several long moments, Moruadh did not speak. She merely regarded Raistlin intently, as if seeking the true motive behind his desire. She sighed. For the first time she gave a gift, she did not smile. She looked rather grim. "Raistlin, the gift you ask of me with heart, soul, and eyes, I cannot grant." Raistlin looked at her in shock and in a kind of pain even he hardly knew.
"Why?" he asked
Moruadh smiled. It was a pained smile. "For two reasons. First, once granted, it will be taken away as a result of another gift. Second,"-and here she smiled truly-"it has already been granted to you."
Raistlin looked at her in shock and confusion. Suddenly, comprehension dawned on him. "It-it has already been granted?" he whispered.
Moruadh nodded.
Keaira met Raistlin's eyes. She read the emotion in his eyes. The love in his eyes. With a wild cry, she flung herself into his arms. He held her gently, almost tenderly.
Moruadh tapped Keaira on the shoulder. Her eyes were sad. "Ice- Sister, you have much to learn of love. And yet, you, too, have a gift that needs granting. Keaira, you came here for one reason and one reason only: to sprout silver wings. You are half-dragon. Dragons neither bear nor die as easily as do any of the other races of Krynn. Your mother went through living hell-a hell unimaginably worse than the one we stand in now-to give you birth. Yet you are half-dragon. You are torn between the two races, as are beings such as Tanis Half-Elven. You are 'half of two things and all of nothing.' Yet you ask me to help you sprout silver wings." Moruadh sighed. "Ice-Sister, I do what you ask. Keaira, you will sprout silver wings."
Keaira rose off the ground on the force of Moruadh's power. She felt an inexpressible pain in her back. She suddenly had the horrible feeling of being "half of two things and all of nothing." She was being torn apart and put back together in all the wrong ways.
She gently flapped her scaled silver wings. Something was wrong.she should be all dragon at this point.
She met Moruadh's eyes.
She saw tears.
She met Dalamar's eyes.
She saw the ecstasy of regaining his magic.
She met Silvan's eyes.
She saw the compassion born of memory.
She met Gilthas' eyes.
She saw the compassion born of empathy.
She met Raistlin's eyes.
She saw death.
She fell.
She heard Raistlin scream.
She smiled.
She stretched out her hand to him.
She died.
* * *
Raistlin ran to the fallen half-dragon. She was at peace. She was truly dead. Unbidden, the image of another woman who had reached out to him in death filled his head. He realized he was crying. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He shuddered, for that hand was colder then ever the spellbooks of Fistandantilus were. He looked into Moruadh's eyes.
Moruadh met the mage's eyes. She knew what she had to do. She began to sing softly:
Nighttime, the nighttime
Embraces your soul.
Sleep, soul, alone without
Light.
Sleeping forever,
My mage, you will be.
In the night's warm, dark
Embrace.
Tears, the tears,
Like a river of blood
Running down lover's
Lane.
So hush now,
Little mage,
The night longs for you.
Tell her,
Oh, tell her,
You're mine.
Raistlin closed his eyes and slipped into dreamless sleep, a dreamless sleep that would last forever. Moruadh gently arranged Keaira and Raistlin so they would spend their eternal sleep in each other's arms. She then spoke a word in the language of the gods, and they were encased in ice. With another word, she turned the entire area into a beautiful, bitter, painful, loving cage of ice. With yet another word, she brought the ice cave to the outside world.
Gilthas, Silvan, and Dalamar left the cave. The grave of Keaira Half- Dragon and Raistlin Majere was now sacred to Moruadh. In future centuries, people from all over Krynn would travel to the site to pray to the great goddess for blessings such as those two had known in the last moments of their life.
As Moruadh left the shrine, she turned to the grave. She stared down at Keaira and Raistlin for a moment. She sighed. "Farewell, Ice-Sister," she whispered.
And then she was gone.
Disclaimer/Author's Notes: I don't own anyone except Moruadh and Keaira. I also own this plotline. Anything else.I wish!!!! Either this chapter will be the last, except for closing author's notes. Looking forward to your reviews!!!
Part 9: Moruadh's Gifts
Raistlin blasted the ice sarcophagus with his magic. He swore. There was no effect. Dalamar tried his hand at it. He, too, failed. Silvan tried his luck with his bow, Gilthas with his sword. They, too, failed.
"Your turn, Keaira," someone said. She felt-strange is the only word for it. She felt as if she was at one with the body in the ice. She walked over to it. "Arise, Ice-Sister," she whispered in elven, touching the ice lightly. To her shock-and the shock of all the others present-the ice disappeared.
Moruadh rose. "Thank you, Ice-Sister," she said, in a voice as cold as ice, as sweet as death, as fulfilled as life. The five pilgrims-for they could only be called that-dropped to their knees in the face of this beautiful goddess. "Thank you for freeing me, Ice-Sister," she said softly, lightly touching Keaira on the shoulder. Her eyes flicked to the four men. "You helped her reach this place. To all of you, therefore, I bestow gifts: the most secret, guarded desire of your heart." The five pilgrims gasped as one. "I reward those who help me," she said with a smile. She turned to Silvanoshei. "Rise, Silvanoshei," she said. He did so, tremblingly. He met the goddess' white-blue eyes. She smiled gently. "You needn't be afraid, Silvanoshei. I will not hurt you. I only intend to give you a gift: Silvanoshei, King of Silvanesti, I present you with the power of Memory. You are now able to, at your will, call upon all the memories of all the elves living and dead on Krynn. That means you remember everything the first elf knew, and everything the elves just being born know. That is the gift I give you."
Silvan sighed. He knew he had knowledge-knowledge equaled by none-not even Fistandantilus himself.
Moruadh turned to Gilthas. "Rise, Gilthas." He did so, coming forward with some trepidation. Not as much as Silvan, for he had seen what great power the goddess had. He had also seen that she would not hurt him. "Gilthas, King of Qualinesti, I present you with the power of Empathy. You are now able to sense and identify the emotions of all beings within a fifty mile radius. Of course, you can block this out when it is hurting you, Gilthas, but the power is yours until the end of your days. That is the gift I give you."
Gilthas sighed. He now sensed the emotions of all present. The deep thankfulness of Silvan, the hope trembling on ecstasy of Dalamar, the tangled, mixed emotions of Keaira, and the not-quite-namable emotions of the mysterious companion. Suddenly, he realized who that companion was. Raistlin Majere.
"Rise, Dalamar Argent." He did so. He came forward, halfway between eager and afraid. Moruadh smiled. "Dalamar Argent, also known as Dalamar the Dark, I present you with your old magic. You have all the power, all the knowledge, you once had. This gift is yours for as long as you shall live. That is the gift I give you."
Dalamar sighed. He could feel the magic coursing through his veins once more. It called to him, shrieked to him, begged to be used. Later, he told the magic. Later I will draw upon you. I want it as much as you want it. It was only later that he realized how ludicrous it was. He was so ecstatic to have the magic back that he was speaking to it, as if it was a living being. He returned to his place in the semicircle, kneeling with even greater reverence than before as he watched Raistlin be presented with his gift.
"Rise, Raistlin Majere," Moruadh said. Gilthas gasped. Keaira glared at him and elbowed him in the side. Moruadh hid her smile. Raistlin came forward at Moruadh's command. For several long moments, Moruadh did not speak. She merely regarded Raistlin intently, as if seeking the true motive behind his desire. She sighed. For the first time she gave a gift, she did not smile. She looked rather grim. "Raistlin, the gift you ask of me with heart, soul, and eyes, I cannot grant." Raistlin looked at her in shock and in a kind of pain even he hardly knew.
"Why?" he asked
Moruadh smiled. It was a pained smile. "For two reasons. First, once granted, it will be taken away as a result of another gift. Second,"-and here she smiled truly-"it has already been granted to you."
Raistlin looked at her in shock and confusion. Suddenly, comprehension dawned on him. "It-it has already been granted?" he whispered.
Moruadh nodded.
Keaira met Raistlin's eyes. She read the emotion in his eyes. The love in his eyes. With a wild cry, she flung herself into his arms. He held her gently, almost tenderly.
Moruadh tapped Keaira on the shoulder. Her eyes were sad. "Ice- Sister, you have much to learn of love. And yet, you, too, have a gift that needs granting. Keaira, you came here for one reason and one reason only: to sprout silver wings. You are half-dragon. Dragons neither bear nor die as easily as do any of the other races of Krynn. Your mother went through living hell-a hell unimaginably worse than the one we stand in now-to give you birth. Yet you are half-dragon. You are torn between the two races, as are beings such as Tanis Half-Elven. You are 'half of two things and all of nothing.' Yet you ask me to help you sprout silver wings." Moruadh sighed. "Ice-Sister, I do what you ask. Keaira, you will sprout silver wings."
Keaira rose off the ground on the force of Moruadh's power. She felt an inexpressible pain in her back. She suddenly had the horrible feeling of being "half of two things and all of nothing." She was being torn apart and put back together in all the wrong ways.
She gently flapped her scaled silver wings. Something was wrong.she should be all dragon at this point.
She met Moruadh's eyes.
She saw tears.
She met Dalamar's eyes.
She saw the ecstasy of regaining his magic.
She met Silvan's eyes.
She saw the compassion born of memory.
She met Gilthas' eyes.
She saw the compassion born of empathy.
She met Raistlin's eyes.
She saw death.
She fell.
She heard Raistlin scream.
She smiled.
She stretched out her hand to him.
She died.
* * *
Raistlin ran to the fallen half-dragon. She was at peace. She was truly dead. Unbidden, the image of another woman who had reached out to him in death filled his head. He realized he was crying. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He shuddered, for that hand was colder then ever the spellbooks of Fistandantilus were. He looked into Moruadh's eyes.
Moruadh met the mage's eyes. She knew what she had to do. She began to sing softly:
Nighttime, the nighttime
Embraces your soul.
Sleep, soul, alone without
Light.
Sleeping forever,
My mage, you will be.
In the night's warm, dark
Embrace.
Tears, the tears,
Like a river of blood
Running down lover's
Lane.
So hush now,
Little mage,
The night longs for you.
Tell her,
Oh, tell her,
You're mine.
Raistlin closed his eyes and slipped into dreamless sleep, a dreamless sleep that would last forever. Moruadh gently arranged Keaira and Raistlin so they would spend their eternal sleep in each other's arms. She then spoke a word in the language of the gods, and they were encased in ice. With another word, she turned the entire area into a beautiful, bitter, painful, loving cage of ice. With yet another word, she brought the ice cave to the outside world.
Gilthas, Silvan, and Dalamar left the cave. The grave of Keaira Half- Dragon and Raistlin Majere was now sacred to Moruadh. In future centuries, people from all over Krynn would travel to the site to pray to the great goddess for blessings such as those two had known in the last moments of their life.
As Moruadh left the shrine, she turned to the grave. She stared down at Keaira and Raistlin for a moment. She sighed. "Farewell, Ice-Sister," she whispered.
And then she was gone.