Chapter 12:
The journey to Silvanesti took less time than either of them thought. Though, they were lucky not to run into any unfortunate weather. According to the local mages and people who claimed to understand the weather, there would be storms all over, some of them worse than the one Raistlin and Alira had already encountered. But they enjoyed themselves together. Now that Miranda's painful memory had been taken care of, he seemed much more free. His cough had halted, altogether, and he was more ready with help and laughter.
Alira realized now what women never saw in him before. He was incredibly handsome. His brother was famous amongst girls for his good looks, but Raistlin's finer boned structure and demeanor gave him a more Elven-kind of beauty than his brother's rugged, manly, chop-and-slash human looks. It was interesting.
Raistlin, in turn, noticed her more than ever. How could he not? He has spent several days with the only woman alive who could possibly tolerate the worst of his moods! Not only that, but he was fairly certain it was her fault that his cough hadn't plagued him. On top of it all, she was very pretty. Very, very pretty.
They finally arrived in Silvanesti, and rode for several hours before they felt compelled to stop. When they stopped, a slender Elven man greeted them almost immediately. They guessed they were in the right place when he repeated a few of the phrases that Ferian had departed to them. Grinning, they followed the young Elf. They were escorted to quarters.
"We apologize, but we are not used to visitors. I'm afraid we have but one room. Though it is a large one, so you should be able to make use of it as two." The Elf said, giving Alira a glance of sympathy. She nearly burst out laughing. She could definitely survive in a large room with Raistlin. He, however, seemed a bit nervous. Alira didn't question him, he had a right to be nervous.
It turned out he had more than a right to be nervous. This large room was very large.and it just so happened that it also included the bathing room. Meaning they would have to find a way to keep busy while the other bathed and dressed. Oddly, there wasn't a dressing curtain, so they would have to find a way to make do without one.
Aside from that, it was a beautiful room done in silvers and blues. The bed was gigantic, with enough room for seven people to sleep side by side, plenty of room to avoid confusion or embarrassment. They decided they might as well share the bed. Besides, it was extremely comfortable, and neither wanted to give it up. The carpets were soft and thick, the furniture as fine as that in Qualinesti. Alira was enchanted; Raistlin was appreciative.
First things first, Alira wanted a bath. Badly. But she was too embarrassed to try shooing Raistlin away. For once, she wasn't as firm as usual, and stuttered about trying to tell him she wanted to bathe.
"Do you want the first bath?" he asked her first. She breathed a sigh of relief and accepted, with a smile.
"I'll just.go outside." He said, opening the fine carved door and slipping out. In a flash, she undressed and jumped into the bath, which was already drawn, and still nice and hot. As in Qualinesti, it had a strange water system replenishing dirty water with fresh. She scrubbed the dirt and grime of travel from herself, enjoying her bath and keeping an eye on the door to be safe. Before long, she was snuggling back into her robes, warm and comfortable.peace.
She walked to the door to find Raistlin. She couldn't see him in the immediate vicinity, so she began to walk around. Alira assumed that if Raistlin returned and didn't see her, that he would probably bathe and come looking later, or wait for her to come back. Therefore, she was perfectly justified in a little walk. She decided to go into the forest.
Before long it hit her. This huge sense of déjà vu. She recognized immediately why she had it, and cursed herself for realizing it earlier. The trees.
The trees were identical to the ones she saw in her dream. The area she was in was identical to the one in her dream. A feeling of dread spread through her limbs. Ever-so-slowly, she turned around, completely expecting to see the young Elf-girl step from the shadows as she had in the dream. When Raistlin came forth, she nearly threw herself at him in relief.
"My dream! This is it!" she whispered, bounding forward and pulling near to him, seeking protection from her own mind.
"Then we wait for her." He said calmly, gripping the Staff of Magius as usual in his fist. The smooth, dark wood of the staff was soothing to him, made him feel the power of himself.and Alira picked up on that, subconsciously, and was empowered. Her fear lessened, though it still existed.
"Shirak." He muttered. The staff burst into brilliant light, its crystal nestled safely within the golden dragon's claw. "Dulak."
His irritable command to end the light was obeyed, of course. The light didn't' help much, as it was mist and not true darkness that was bothering his sight. Finally, the child stepped forth. The mages huddled closer together, warmth from their bodies supporting each other.
The sheer, plain beauty of this child was ten times more heartrending than in Alira's dream, and she could hear and feel Raistlin take in a breath of awe. She was afraid the child would steal his attention.
"Aliralintharincalion and Raistlin Majere. I have been waiting." That enchanting voice of her hers, nearly a spell on its own, ensnared them. They were silent, awaiting her words. Raistlin knew something Alira did not, however, by seeing this child. She, like his mother Rosamun, was a seeress.
"You two are very important. To each other, to the world, to the gods. Raistlin, you are free of Fistandantilus. You didn't remember him. I want you to remember right now." Like a flash, the memories flooded his head. He fell to his knees, barely stopped himself from hitting the ground with the staff. A grunting moan escaped him.
"Aliralintharincalion. Your memories, too, are not full. Remember!" the strange star-eyed child whispered, and Alira whimpered in pain as she saw.
"Now you know. Raistlin, you remember Amberyl now, too, and you know the truth of what happened. I know, and now you do. Both of you have your memories in full." Raistlin was frightened. How could she possibly have such power as to heal minds?
"I cannot tell you all that I wish for the simple reason that you would either not be able to comprehend, or it would ruin Krynn. I may not meddle too much, for the others will find out, and then both of your lives will be forfeit.
"Krynn depends on you both. You will fall in love. You feel it now, in your hearts. Look! You can even see it, in your own blind way. You two are in love as strong as Paladine's pure love for Mishakal, and hers for him. The magic is second in your heart, as only your soul mate is first.
"Alira. You are Raistlin's salvation. If it weren't for you, Fistandantilus and his hold over Raistlin would only grow more strong and perverted with time, eventually leading to an unsatisfactory end for both. As you saved him, you damned him and yourself. You love him more than anything, even life. You are the Assassin. You are the Lover. You are the Child. You are the Mother. As you sin, you become a saint. You need be strong, for if you are not, it will all fail. And yet, while you are the one who need be strong, you are also the weaker.
"Raistlin. You are the most powerful mage to ever walk Krynn. You will never have an equal. Ever. With Alira's faint help, you broke Fistandantilus as much as she did, if not more. Slowly, you will heal. Par- Salian will be forced to repair your sight. Your skin, your armor, will no longer be needed, for Alira's strength coupled with yours is all you will need. Your hair, also, will eventually be returned to you. With your change, you gained a soul. You can see already that your lungs have begun to finally heal. After this meeting, you two will be stronger with each other than ever. Raistlin, you will never have the physique of your brother. You will always be the smaller, the more delicate, yet in your own you are strong. Yours is a journey of love. A strange thing you don't yet understand. But you will. Life will continue for you as it should, the course of time altered, though, by the gods. In their divine knowledge, they have decided that your path is not the best, and so they have meddled just enough to bring you and Alira together.
"What do you want to know?" she asked, her voice losing some of its thickening layers, retreating to a more childish sound. Her eyes lost a tiny bit of their flaring brilliance.
The two mages were speechless. Alira was near to fainting; Raistlin was dry in the mouth. They could, both of them, fear their hearts thudding. They had no questions.
"Ah, yes. Also, you two will marry, sooner rather than later. Together, you will fight a foe that none of the god's yet knows. They can only hope that you are the right champions they have chosen." She said, almost nonchalantly.
"And this, Alira, is yours."
From behind her, she pulled a staff. It was shorter than Raistlin's. It was actually about eight or nine inches shorter than Alira. It was carved of an unknown wood, a wood that was a pale, cream golden-blonde color from the tip to below the grip. The grip was simply six inches from the very top to its lowest point. The grip was nothing but a section of the staff left with the bark smooth, and on. It was pretty, in its own, crude way. It had been sanded, and had a tiny bow to it, curving almost too slightly to be noticed. It had been thickly lacquered, and was smooth as Raistlin's care-worn staff. Alira fell in love immediately.
Her staff had its own crackling magic to it, unidentifiable, but there. "Its powers are yours to discover." The girl-child spoke softly as Alira took it in her hand, gripping the grip tightly and feeling the comfortable weight of it.
That night, they didn't speak to each other. They slept in silence, contemplating their memories.
The journey to Silvanesti took less time than either of them thought. Though, they were lucky not to run into any unfortunate weather. According to the local mages and people who claimed to understand the weather, there would be storms all over, some of them worse than the one Raistlin and Alira had already encountered. But they enjoyed themselves together. Now that Miranda's painful memory had been taken care of, he seemed much more free. His cough had halted, altogether, and he was more ready with help and laughter.
Alira realized now what women never saw in him before. He was incredibly handsome. His brother was famous amongst girls for his good looks, but Raistlin's finer boned structure and demeanor gave him a more Elven-kind of beauty than his brother's rugged, manly, chop-and-slash human looks. It was interesting.
Raistlin, in turn, noticed her more than ever. How could he not? He has spent several days with the only woman alive who could possibly tolerate the worst of his moods! Not only that, but he was fairly certain it was her fault that his cough hadn't plagued him. On top of it all, she was very pretty. Very, very pretty.
They finally arrived in Silvanesti, and rode for several hours before they felt compelled to stop. When they stopped, a slender Elven man greeted them almost immediately. They guessed they were in the right place when he repeated a few of the phrases that Ferian had departed to them. Grinning, they followed the young Elf. They were escorted to quarters.
"We apologize, but we are not used to visitors. I'm afraid we have but one room. Though it is a large one, so you should be able to make use of it as two." The Elf said, giving Alira a glance of sympathy. She nearly burst out laughing. She could definitely survive in a large room with Raistlin. He, however, seemed a bit nervous. Alira didn't question him, he had a right to be nervous.
It turned out he had more than a right to be nervous. This large room was very large.and it just so happened that it also included the bathing room. Meaning they would have to find a way to keep busy while the other bathed and dressed. Oddly, there wasn't a dressing curtain, so they would have to find a way to make do without one.
Aside from that, it was a beautiful room done in silvers and blues. The bed was gigantic, with enough room for seven people to sleep side by side, plenty of room to avoid confusion or embarrassment. They decided they might as well share the bed. Besides, it was extremely comfortable, and neither wanted to give it up. The carpets were soft and thick, the furniture as fine as that in Qualinesti. Alira was enchanted; Raistlin was appreciative.
First things first, Alira wanted a bath. Badly. But she was too embarrassed to try shooing Raistlin away. For once, she wasn't as firm as usual, and stuttered about trying to tell him she wanted to bathe.
"Do you want the first bath?" he asked her first. She breathed a sigh of relief and accepted, with a smile.
"I'll just.go outside." He said, opening the fine carved door and slipping out. In a flash, she undressed and jumped into the bath, which was already drawn, and still nice and hot. As in Qualinesti, it had a strange water system replenishing dirty water with fresh. She scrubbed the dirt and grime of travel from herself, enjoying her bath and keeping an eye on the door to be safe. Before long, she was snuggling back into her robes, warm and comfortable.peace.
She walked to the door to find Raistlin. She couldn't see him in the immediate vicinity, so she began to walk around. Alira assumed that if Raistlin returned and didn't see her, that he would probably bathe and come looking later, or wait for her to come back. Therefore, she was perfectly justified in a little walk. She decided to go into the forest.
Before long it hit her. This huge sense of déjà vu. She recognized immediately why she had it, and cursed herself for realizing it earlier. The trees.
The trees were identical to the ones she saw in her dream. The area she was in was identical to the one in her dream. A feeling of dread spread through her limbs. Ever-so-slowly, she turned around, completely expecting to see the young Elf-girl step from the shadows as she had in the dream. When Raistlin came forth, she nearly threw herself at him in relief.
"My dream! This is it!" she whispered, bounding forward and pulling near to him, seeking protection from her own mind.
"Then we wait for her." He said calmly, gripping the Staff of Magius as usual in his fist. The smooth, dark wood of the staff was soothing to him, made him feel the power of himself.and Alira picked up on that, subconsciously, and was empowered. Her fear lessened, though it still existed.
"Shirak." He muttered. The staff burst into brilliant light, its crystal nestled safely within the golden dragon's claw. "Dulak."
His irritable command to end the light was obeyed, of course. The light didn't' help much, as it was mist and not true darkness that was bothering his sight. Finally, the child stepped forth. The mages huddled closer together, warmth from their bodies supporting each other.
The sheer, plain beauty of this child was ten times more heartrending than in Alira's dream, and she could hear and feel Raistlin take in a breath of awe. She was afraid the child would steal his attention.
"Aliralintharincalion and Raistlin Majere. I have been waiting." That enchanting voice of her hers, nearly a spell on its own, ensnared them. They were silent, awaiting her words. Raistlin knew something Alira did not, however, by seeing this child. She, like his mother Rosamun, was a seeress.
"You two are very important. To each other, to the world, to the gods. Raistlin, you are free of Fistandantilus. You didn't remember him. I want you to remember right now." Like a flash, the memories flooded his head. He fell to his knees, barely stopped himself from hitting the ground with the staff. A grunting moan escaped him.
"Aliralintharincalion. Your memories, too, are not full. Remember!" the strange star-eyed child whispered, and Alira whimpered in pain as she saw.
"Now you know. Raistlin, you remember Amberyl now, too, and you know the truth of what happened. I know, and now you do. Both of you have your memories in full." Raistlin was frightened. How could she possibly have such power as to heal minds?
"I cannot tell you all that I wish for the simple reason that you would either not be able to comprehend, or it would ruin Krynn. I may not meddle too much, for the others will find out, and then both of your lives will be forfeit.
"Krynn depends on you both. You will fall in love. You feel it now, in your hearts. Look! You can even see it, in your own blind way. You two are in love as strong as Paladine's pure love for Mishakal, and hers for him. The magic is second in your heart, as only your soul mate is first.
"Alira. You are Raistlin's salvation. If it weren't for you, Fistandantilus and his hold over Raistlin would only grow more strong and perverted with time, eventually leading to an unsatisfactory end for both. As you saved him, you damned him and yourself. You love him more than anything, even life. You are the Assassin. You are the Lover. You are the Child. You are the Mother. As you sin, you become a saint. You need be strong, for if you are not, it will all fail. And yet, while you are the one who need be strong, you are also the weaker.
"Raistlin. You are the most powerful mage to ever walk Krynn. You will never have an equal. Ever. With Alira's faint help, you broke Fistandantilus as much as she did, if not more. Slowly, you will heal. Par- Salian will be forced to repair your sight. Your skin, your armor, will no longer be needed, for Alira's strength coupled with yours is all you will need. Your hair, also, will eventually be returned to you. With your change, you gained a soul. You can see already that your lungs have begun to finally heal. After this meeting, you two will be stronger with each other than ever. Raistlin, you will never have the physique of your brother. You will always be the smaller, the more delicate, yet in your own you are strong. Yours is a journey of love. A strange thing you don't yet understand. But you will. Life will continue for you as it should, the course of time altered, though, by the gods. In their divine knowledge, they have decided that your path is not the best, and so they have meddled just enough to bring you and Alira together.
"What do you want to know?" she asked, her voice losing some of its thickening layers, retreating to a more childish sound. Her eyes lost a tiny bit of their flaring brilliance.
The two mages were speechless. Alira was near to fainting; Raistlin was dry in the mouth. They could, both of them, fear their hearts thudding. They had no questions.
"Ah, yes. Also, you two will marry, sooner rather than later. Together, you will fight a foe that none of the god's yet knows. They can only hope that you are the right champions they have chosen." She said, almost nonchalantly.
"And this, Alira, is yours."
From behind her, she pulled a staff. It was shorter than Raistlin's. It was actually about eight or nine inches shorter than Alira. It was carved of an unknown wood, a wood that was a pale, cream golden-blonde color from the tip to below the grip. The grip was simply six inches from the very top to its lowest point. The grip was nothing but a section of the staff left with the bark smooth, and on. It was pretty, in its own, crude way. It had been sanded, and had a tiny bow to it, curving almost too slightly to be noticed. It had been thickly lacquered, and was smooth as Raistlin's care-worn staff. Alira fell in love immediately.
Her staff had its own crackling magic to it, unidentifiable, but there. "Its powers are yours to discover." The girl-child spoke softly as Alira took it in her hand, gripping the grip tightly and feeling the comfortable weight of it.
That night, they didn't speak to each other. They slept in silence, contemplating their memories.