Rain spattered against the stained glass windows in the Inn of the Last Home. Tika shivered as she lit a fire in the grate. "What a dreary day," she muttered.
Caramon looked up from the mug of ale he was filling. "The weather is mourning," he mumbled vaguely.
Tika raised an eyebrow. "I don't know why. Inanna wasn't one to mourn for."
Caramon shook his head. "No. It's mourning for my brother, for Raistlin. And it's mourning for Krynn."
Tika stayed silent. She was amazed at her husband's occasional lapses of obvious intelligence. Bustling around the Inn, she took the mug from her husband and set it in front of the single, weary traveler. The person was concealed behind a heavy, woolen cloak, and he or she didn't say a word.
"There you are," Tika told the customer. "The finest ale to warm your bones."
The traveler nodded gratefully and sipped at the foaming liquid. Tika rejoined her husband behind the counter when the customer gave no further signs of wanting anything else. "What do you think Caramon?" she sighed, watching the person. "Will Raistlin reach his goal?"
"I don't know. But I don't see any point in worrying about it now. We'll see what the future has in store for us when it comes. But right now, we have children to raise and an inn to see to. There'll always be customers to serve."
"I suppose." Tika glanced at her husband to try and read his facial expression, but Caramon's face was masked and revealed nothing. She shook her head and looked back to where their customer had been sitting.
The person had disappeared. Only a few coins and a half drunk mug of ale remained to show that anyone had been sitting there. The door to the Inn was slightly ajar, letting in the fierce sounds of the storm outside. Tika left her husband and crossed the room to close it. When she turned back around, Caramon too was gone, probably in their room thinking. She sighed and began absently sweeping the floor, though it was already spotless.
Caramon was right. They would indeed see what the future held for them when it came. There truly was no point in worrying yet. Inanna had been an evil mage, not worthy of any shed tears as far as Tika was concerned.
'But still,' she thought as she continued sweeping. 'Perhaps she hadn't been so bad after all. She had been trying to stop Raistlin from destroying both himself and Krynn. Perhaps she had had a bit of heart left in her.'
A tear ran down Tika's cheek and landed on the floor. This would be the last memory of Inanna, the dark mage who had reveled in darkness. She would be but a whisper on the wind forevermore. No more than a child's bedtime story. Her sacrifice would be but an untold story, except to those who cared to hear it.
Tika put down her broom and locked the door to the Inn. She wasn't sure what made her do it, but she did anyways. She retreated to the back, to join Caramon. Perhaps to comfort him, perhaps to just be near him and feel his reassuring presence. Whatever the reason, she stopped her work for the day and cried silently, for the memory of Inanna and partly, though she didn't know it, for the soul of her brother-in-law. What would become of Raistlin Majere, only the future knew.