Raistlin watched in silence as dawn approached cold and gray. He lay his hand gently on the window sill, perhaps hoping the sun would touch upon his burning skin; perhaps he hoped he could keep the morning from coming by merely frightening the glowing rays of the new sun away. Whatever the reason, he kept his hand on the sill, examining the stone beneath his fingers.
The sun peeked over the horizon, spreading its golden rays over the white city of Palanthas. No sun penetrated the fearsome Shoikon Grove surrounding his tower, though. Raistlin was doomed to live in eternal darkness, and he knew it. For he had sacrificed everything for power; his friends, his family, even his health had fled, slipped from his grasp as his power grew. There was no turning back to the life he once led; there was only the continuous climb to the top.
Raistlin's face contorted into an angry scowl, and he clenched his hand into a fist. How dare he start turning sentimental! He thought bitterly. He could not turn back now, not when he was so close to achieving the ultimate prize! Only one person stood in his way. Inanna.
She had been the closest thing to a true friend in his whole life. Raistlin had met the sly, seductive elf maiden after he had stranded his companions and twin brother in the center of the maelstrom in the Blood Sea of Istar. He had traveled the lands, and they two had met up as Raistlin was passing through the dying land of Silvanesti. She had been the only elf for miles, and at the time, Raistlin had found it odd that she was even in that bleeding land at all.
But he soon found out that Inanna thrived in the darkness, an unusual trait for elves. He knew that she had been banished, for she had mentioned this without any trace of remorse in her voice. It had almost seemed to him that she had intended to be thrown out of her home from the start. When he had tried to leave the dying forest, Inanna had followed without a word. Soon, the two had become close companions, but there was always that lurking need for more power. There was always that unspoken need to battle for supremacy between them.
Raistlin and Inanna separated a few months later, pursuing each of their own goals. Raistlin had joined the Dark Queen, Takhisis, and Inanna had vanished from his life for forevermore. Or so he thought.
Inanna's spirit had swept through the land the night before. He had felt the familiar tingling run through his body at her presence. She was coming ever closer, waiting in the shadows like a spider lies in wait for its prey. But the battle would rage on, and only one could return victorious; only one could return alive.
A soft knock on the door interrupted his memories.
"Enter," he commanded in his soft, but chilling voice.
The door opened and Raistlin's apprentice, Dalamar, entered.
"You wanted to see me, Shalafi?" Dalamar asked.
"Yes. There is a woman on her way here. Make sure she feels comfortable."
If Dalamar felt anything towards this request, he didn't show it. He nodded, keeping his delicate elven features free of emotion, and left the room without a word.
Inanna, his old friend and rival, was coming. He had felt her spirit on the wind last night. He had called to her, given her an unspoken challenge to fight him, to try and win. Inanna, named after the goddess of love, war, and life itself, was coming to begin an endless battle of strength and will.
Raistlin smiled. She was here, riding the wind. He strode over to a small table by the fire, his black robes brushing lightly against his ankles. He muttered a few words of the spidery language of magic, and wine and fruit appeared on the table. He conjured a golden goblet, and filled it to the brim with the special elvish wine.
'There,' he thought. He wanted to make her feel at home, after all. He wanted her to show all of her weaknesses, so that none could stop him. There was too much to lose if she triumphed over him, and he wasn't going to risk it. Inanna was a fly, heading straight for Raistlin's web. And he would lie in wait, patiently, until she arrived.