Chapter 13:
Alira loved her staff. Something about it just captured her heart. The only problem was, she had absolutely no idea how to make it do anything. So, she contented herself with using it as a quarterstaff. Due to her assassin training, she was a master with it. Now that she had her memories, she was in more pain than ever. Apparently, she spent five years of her life (which were somehow concealed from her and her family through some sort of ingenious time-loop generated by Takhisis for some odd reason) training as a weapons-master. Alira hated the fact that she was constantly analyzing things.
She subconsciously knew where every exit was, where every possible weapon was, and where anything that might hinder or aid her in escape or fighting was. It was annoying, because she knew that she knew this all subconsciously.
Raistlin, however, didn't have much lost in the way of memories, save for one. About a certain woman named Amberyl. She was Irda, obviously, from her exquisite beauty. Raistlin knew, now, the story. He was certain this strange story would come back to haunt him now that he knew it. Apparently, there's this thing that happens to Irda when they meet another. When a male Irda meets the female that he is supposedly bonded to, he must get her pregnant, or they will be infatuated with each other until he finally does. It was their way of guaranteeing that their race didn't die out.
According to this story, it happened between Raistlin and this Amberyl woman. Unfortunately for Raistlin, it didn't. What they thought was infatuation, was nothing more than a fluke. After speaking to him, they both realized that it was a false alarm. Raistlin had no child, and never even got near to having one. Just his luck, he thought.
They were both very indifferent to each other. Both of them were confused about what to do. Should they just run and get married and get it all over with? Or perhaps they were meant to wait until some sign? Or maybe it would all just fall into place.
Still, they didn't want to risk anything, so they decided to go on as usual. And wait for a sign. Alira was in denial, a bit. She didn't know much about the whole situation, but she didn't want to mess anything up for the gods or Krynn.or herself.or Raistlin.
Meanwhile, Raistlin was confused about everything. He rarely even spoke to girls. He didn't really know any. You could probably count the number of females he spoke to in his entire life on one hand.and that's if you were missing fingers, too. Raistlin had absolutely no idea about what to do. He was certain his brother's approach would not be acceptable. Maybe it worked on barmaids, and random peasant women, but Alira was different. She was intelligent, kind, ambitious, beautiful, fun, interesting, friendly, impatient at times, understanding, and strict, helpful and perfect.
Well, at least Raistlin wasn't in denial anymore. With that list, he realized that what the Elven seeress said was true. He glanced over at her, wondering if she had accepted it yet.
He couldn't tell.
He didn't know that she hadn't.
They were finally on their way back to Solace, the rest of their time at Silvanesti being full of silence and lots of emotional healing. They were currently back to their old footing, with just the teeniest wedge of something between them.
Meanwhile, Alira kept an eye out as they traveled. They were warned about a particularly nasty gang that had taken to frequenting the road they were on. Raistlin and Alira were skeptical about getting attacked. Few gangs would go against a mage, and even fewer would attack two. Mages tend to be clever, though every bunch has its bad apples. Red robes, with their neutral alliance, could be as bad as black robes in some ways. They were confident.
They shouldn't have been.
They were one-fourth of the way to Solace when Alira realized they were being followed. It didn't take long for them to attack. They were a large band of fifteen rag-tag creatures. Mostly, they were dwarves and humans, but with one gigantic Minotaur leading the bunch.
Immediately, they grabbed for Alira. The mages didn't have time to react. The Minotaur had her in an instant, and yanked her from her horse by her arm and robes. He held her tight, yelling for one of his minions to gag her and tie her hands behind her. They had already caught Raistlin. But when he saw that the Minotaur had Alira, he fought as hard as he could, forcing them to knock him unconscious. Actually, they were quite enthusiastic about a reason to throw something heavy at his head.especially when he opened his mouth to curse them.
The Minotaur grinned at Alira, his breath so foul that she nearly threw up. The gag, however, prevented such a reaction. She paled. He laughed.
"We've got ourselves a pretty little wench in a red dress!" he taunted. His name, as she heard a few of the gang mutter, was Gauf.
She knew what they meant to do. But they didn't know that she had recently had her assassin's skills awakened. Alira was careful not to fight too much, but definitely not to seem willing. Before she knew it, they got cocky. They went ahead and untied her hands, taking her pouches, and leaving the gag on. They were certain there was nothing she could do without her voice. But they didn't confiscate her staff. Alira put a look of utter fear on her face, concentrating as hard as she could on a single thought.
"Lunitari's idish!" she called, begging her staff to respond for Lunitari's sake. A tear leaked from her eye in her concentration.
Finally, her staff flew into her hands. The fools watched in awe as she spun it impressively, a simple trick meant to capture their eyes so she could cut her gag from her face with her dagger. She didn't let them know about the dagger earlier because she had planned this all along. Eventually, they realized her gag fluttered to the ground, and they cried out in astonishment. Some of them fled, others watched in awe. The Minotaur came from his tent (which he had retreated to for some reason or other) and bellowed in fury at her escaping from her bonds. Suddenly, they all sprung and attacked her.
By then, Alira's staff had gained enough momentum to become a whirling fury of death in its own right. The hard wood rained heavy blows, stunning many of them, bruising most, and she was quick and skillful enough to change its direction so she would never be vulnerable.
"Raistlin! Wake!" she cried, speaking the language of arcane magic to give her words more power. He groaned as he finally brought himself from his painful slumber. Seeing her in trouble, he raised a hand. Magical energy crackled wildly between his fingers as she held them off with her staff. Some of them went to attack him, but she ran to block them. She couldn't hold them off much longer, for there were many, and she wasn't strong enough to knock them unconscious.
Finally, he released his fiery spell, killing more than half of them instantly. He sunk to the floor in exhaustion, barely awake. After seeing their smoking, burning comrades, most of them fled, leaving only the Minotaur. He moved to overpower her, and this time, she wasn't quick enough. He knocked to the ground, getting atop her and preparing to slap her. She kicked up, panicking, unable to think like an assassin. Alira screamed as loudly as she could. The Minotaur covered his ears, buying her some time. She didn't know what to do, her feverish mind unable to produce a plan. Finally, she reacted instinctively. She balled up her fist and punched him soundly in the throat. She wasn't prepared for the odd wrist- flicking movement that her wrist was forced into.
Her dagger flew straight into his throat. He choked, squabbled, making the strangest, most disgusting sucking and gurgling sounds. Finally, Gauf died.
Alira pulled herself out from under the heavy beast, revolted by his reeking odor. She rushed over to Raistlin's side. He was sound asleep.
Exhausted, she, too, fell asleep, her shoulder resting against his breast, his arm cradling her.
Alira loved her staff. Something about it just captured her heart. The only problem was, she had absolutely no idea how to make it do anything. So, she contented herself with using it as a quarterstaff. Due to her assassin training, she was a master with it. Now that she had her memories, she was in more pain than ever. Apparently, she spent five years of her life (which were somehow concealed from her and her family through some sort of ingenious time-loop generated by Takhisis for some odd reason) training as a weapons-master. Alira hated the fact that she was constantly analyzing things.
She subconsciously knew where every exit was, where every possible weapon was, and where anything that might hinder or aid her in escape or fighting was. It was annoying, because she knew that she knew this all subconsciously.
Raistlin, however, didn't have much lost in the way of memories, save for one. About a certain woman named Amberyl. She was Irda, obviously, from her exquisite beauty. Raistlin knew, now, the story. He was certain this strange story would come back to haunt him now that he knew it. Apparently, there's this thing that happens to Irda when they meet another. When a male Irda meets the female that he is supposedly bonded to, he must get her pregnant, or they will be infatuated with each other until he finally does. It was their way of guaranteeing that their race didn't die out.
According to this story, it happened between Raistlin and this Amberyl woman. Unfortunately for Raistlin, it didn't. What they thought was infatuation, was nothing more than a fluke. After speaking to him, they both realized that it was a false alarm. Raistlin had no child, and never even got near to having one. Just his luck, he thought.
They were both very indifferent to each other. Both of them were confused about what to do. Should they just run and get married and get it all over with? Or perhaps they were meant to wait until some sign? Or maybe it would all just fall into place.
Still, they didn't want to risk anything, so they decided to go on as usual. And wait for a sign. Alira was in denial, a bit. She didn't know much about the whole situation, but she didn't want to mess anything up for the gods or Krynn.or herself.or Raistlin.
Meanwhile, Raistlin was confused about everything. He rarely even spoke to girls. He didn't really know any. You could probably count the number of females he spoke to in his entire life on one hand.and that's if you were missing fingers, too. Raistlin had absolutely no idea about what to do. He was certain his brother's approach would not be acceptable. Maybe it worked on barmaids, and random peasant women, but Alira was different. She was intelligent, kind, ambitious, beautiful, fun, interesting, friendly, impatient at times, understanding, and strict, helpful and perfect.
Well, at least Raistlin wasn't in denial anymore. With that list, he realized that what the Elven seeress said was true. He glanced over at her, wondering if she had accepted it yet.
He couldn't tell.
He didn't know that she hadn't.
They were finally on their way back to Solace, the rest of their time at Silvanesti being full of silence and lots of emotional healing. They were currently back to their old footing, with just the teeniest wedge of something between them.
Meanwhile, Alira kept an eye out as they traveled. They were warned about a particularly nasty gang that had taken to frequenting the road they were on. Raistlin and Alira were skeptical about getting attacked. Few gangs would go against a mage, and even fewer would attack two. Mages tend to be clever, though every bunch has its bad apples. Red robes, with their neutral alliance, could be as bad as black robes in some ways. They were confident.
They shouldn't have been.
They were one-fourth of the way to Solace when Alira realized they were being followed. It didn't take long for them to attack. They were a large band of fifteen rag-tag creatures. Mostly, they were dwarves and humans, but with one gigantic Minotaur leading the bunch.
Immediately, they grabbed for Alira. The mages didn't have time to react. The Minotaur had her in an instant, and yanked her from her horse by her arm and robes. He held her tight, yelling for one of his minions to gag her and tie her hands behind her. They had already caught Raistlin. But when he saw that the Minotaur had Alira, he fought as hard as he could, forcing them to knock him unconscious. Actually, they were quite enthusiastic about a reason to throw something heavy at his head.especially when he opened his mouth to curse them.
The Minotaur grinned at Alira, his breath so foul that she nearly threw up. The gag, however, prevented such a reaction. She paled. He laughed.
"We've got ourselves a pretty little wench in a red dress!" he taunted. His name, as she heard a few of the gang mutter, was Gauf.
She knew what they meant to do. But they didn't know that she had recently had her assassin's skills awakened. Alira was careful not to fight too much, but definitely not to seem willing. Before she knew it, they got cocky. They went ahead and untied her hands, taking her pouches, and leaving the gag on. They were certain there was nothing she could do without her voice. But they didn't confiscate her staff. Alira put a look of utter fear on her face, concentrating as hard as she could on a single thought.
"Lunitari's idish!" she called, begging her staff to respond for Lunitari's sake. A tear leaked from her eye in her concentration.
Finally, her staff flew into her hands. The fools watched in awe as she spun it impressively, a simple trick meant to capture their eyes so she could cut her gag from her face with her dagger. She didn't let them know about the dagger earlier because she had planned this all along. Eventually, they realized her gag fluttered to the ground, and they cried out in astonishment. Some of them fled, others watched in awe. The Minotaur came from his tent (which he had retreated to for some reason or other) and bellowed in fury at her escaping from her bonds. Suddenly, they all sprung and attacked her.
By then, Alira's staff had gained enough momentum to become a whirling fury of death in its own right. The hard wood rained heavy blows, stunning many of them, bruising most, and she was quick and skillful enough to change its direction so she would never be vulnerable.
"Raistlin! Wake!" she cried, speaking the language of arcane magic to give her words more power. He groaned as he finally brought himself from his painful slumber. Seeing her in trouble, he raised a hand. Magical energy crackled wildly between his fingers as she held them off with her staff. Some of them went to attack him, but she ran to block them. She couldn't hold them off much longer, for there were many, and she wasn't strong enough to knock them unconscious.
Finally, he released his fiery spell, killing more than half of them instantly. He sunk to the floor in exhaustion, barely awake. After seeing their smoking, burning comrades, most of them fled, leaving only the Minotaur. He moved to overpower her, and this time, she wasn't quick enough. He knocked to the ground, getting atop her and preparing to slap her. She kicked up, panicking, unable to think like an assassin. Alira screamed as loudly as she could. The Minotaur covered his ears, buying her some time. She didn't know what to do, her feverish mind unable to produce a plan. Finally, she reacted instinctively. She balled up her fist and punched him soundly in the throat. She wasn't prepared for the odd wrist- flicking movement that her wrist was forced into.
Her dagger flew straight into his throat. He choked, squabbled, making the strangest, most disgusting sucking and gurgling sounds. Finally, Gauf died.
Alira pulled herself out from under the heavy beast, revolted by his reeking odor. She rushed over to Raistlin's side. He was sound asleep.
Exhausted, she, too, fell asleep, her shoulder resting against his breast, his arm cradling her.