Disclaimer: the same thing I've been telling you for the last nine chapters.
AN: I propose a theory about earth that's a little far-fetched. It shouldn't offend you, because it's just a theory and it's just for the sake of the story. I don't actually believe this (even though it would be pretty cool).
Ch 10: A Twee Bit Way Too Much
Raistlin could clearly see that she was drunk—about as drunk as they come without passing dead out. The effects of the wine had not quite reached that point in his system, he was relaxed and had a mildly 'floating' feeling. It was pleasant really, with her there, clinging to him and swaying ever so gently as if to music. Ask anyone and they would have said that he too was drunk.
She was glaring at her surroundings in general, trying to figure out what was making them spin so much. Ari glanced down at her feet, in attempt to see if they were the ones doing the spinning, but only succeeded in becoming vertigo. Abruptly she shut her eyes and leaned against him, which made her feel like she wasn't moving anymore. She chanced to open one eye and immediately the whirling commenced. A groan escaped her lips as she squinched her eyes firmly closed. It wasn't all that bad to stand here next to him. In fact, he was quite warm and she loved it. She moved so that instead of clenching his arms with her hands, she had her arms wrapped around his middle.
"We cannot stay this way forever," he told her, chuckling.
She nodded in disagreement. "Can too. I'm comfortable." She hugged him tighter, forgetting the rose in her hand until it pricked her to remind her of its presence. "Besides, I think I'm horribly drunk," she slurred nearly imperceptibly.
"How does that make your point?'
"Too drunk to go anywhere else. The world spins when I open my eyes. Better just stay here with you," she giggled at her situation.
"What am I to do with you?" he asked, too amused to say anything else.
She shrugged unsteadily. "Help me sit, and then talk to me some more. Why don't you look like Caramon? Aren't you supposed to be twins?"
Raistlin sighed, depositing her on the floor where she immediately toppled over and laid on her back. Her vision was a lot steadier once she was lying down.
"Well," he began, arranging his robes around him so that he could sit comfortably on the floor beside her, "to become a mage, one has to talke a very dangerous test. At the completion, they choose the color of the robes of the gods they most affiliate with. Each test for each person is different—it is molded especially for the individual. Nearly everyone is affected by the test in some shape or form. That is why I look as I do. My eyes were a 'gift' from Par-Salian, the head of the Conclave. They are to teach me compassion, but as you can clearly see, I have no capacity for such a thing. I came out changed in body and soul, wearing the red robes. Due to circumstances later on, I changed to black." Before she could ask what said circumstances were, he asked her a question, "What is it like on your world? You have mages and kender and elves, I gather."
Ari frowned in concentration. "It's really hard to explain. You see, everything is something, we haven't too many real humans, but they just don't know it.' At his creased forehead, she continued, "The way it works, as it was explained to me, is that there is one God. He is known to each culture as someone different, but is essentially the same. Even to those that have many gods, it is just different aspects of the same god. In order to create unity on the planet, we all appear in the image he finds most pleasing—human. However, within each person is a true identity—an elf, an ogre, a fairy. This true form is not released until the person believes in what we call the fantasy realm. This is where all the true forms come from. Once they believe, their true selves become apparent, as does those of everyone around them. Children and those of pure hearts can automatically see. That is why children feed off of fairy tales or report seeing magical things. Usually, when they grow up, they are influenced by the world that says that there are no such things. Most children lose their sight and sometimes never regain it. I, for example, always believed and wasn't touched by the world. So I have lived in my true form since I was born. My father and grandfather both know, but no one else in my family is aware. I've tried to open their eyes, but grandpa says that they need to learn of it in their own way. Does that make sense?"
Raistlin's brow had remained furrowed for the duration of her discourse. He slowly nodded, more caught up in the one god theory than anything. "So, if you only have one god is it not chaotic? How does that god deal with good and evil?"
"He is essentially good, though he does not force himself upon us. We have free will to do as we see fit."
"What use is such a god if he doesn't influence?"
"He's there to comfort us. It is better that there is someone there than an empty nothingness, don't you think?" she urged.
Raistlin shrugged, "I don't know. This is a very strange concept. Alright, so about you... what is this Empath/Pretender thing you talk about?"
"It started out as yet another genetic experiment several generations ago. Those people had children, and several of those were either Pretenders or Empaths, or a fun little hybrid of the two. Instead of needing to tamper with those children, they isolated them so that they could tap their abilities. Some of them escaped and began families of their own. 'Special' children kept popping up so the Centre had no end to the supply of thinkers and planners they needed. Often times, the Centre would take the children under the premise of enrolling them into a privet school. Parents couldn't complain because the Centre has ways of insuring cooperation, many of them ending in bloodshed. Being raised in the air ducts of such a place gives a person a wonderful inside look at a corrupt corporation; makes one feel like one lives in a movie or at least a very good thriller novel." She had been absently examining the ceiling, but turned her attention back to the mage, "This is fun. Like 20 questions. Is it bigger than a breadbox?"
"Is what bigger than a breadbox?" He asked, thinking frantically back to any mention of said breadbox.
"I think that's the first question you ask. The next one, I think, is; is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?"
"And that's a game one plays?'
"Only when one is desperate and past the point of no return sanity-wise. My turn to ask something... let's see... do you really hate your brother?"
"What kind of question is that? Of course I do. Most of the time," he amended. "He doesn't understand me and he pities me. What's not to hate?"
"But he's your brother!" she defended.
"Which is why I don't hate him all of the time. He occasionally redeems himself, and then just as quickly, muddles things up again." Raistlin saw no need at this point to withhold anything in particular. Exposing himself would only draw her in more, sealing her off to any other outside influence. "My turn. How are you getting back home?"
Ari looked blank for a moment. "Good question. I'm not entirely positive. Grandpa said he's be keeping in touch, but he never said how." She giggled suddenly, "I know! They've stranded me here in hopes of never seeing me again! That would be my Auntie Parker's doing. She thinks I'm a horrible influence on Alysa."
"When you do return home, may I come with you?" he asked.
She cast him a dubious look, "I don't know if it'd be allowed."
"And you having free reign on my plant is?" he crossed his arms, glaring stubbornly at her.
"Hey, it's alright with me—I just don't know if you'd fit in—"
"Better than you did here," he snapped. "Unlike you, I would be careful of what I said to people."
"You don't have to be so defensive," she huffed. "I get to ask questions now. First off, why did you switch to black robes, and secondly, why are you actually answering my questions?"
"You aren't allowed to ask that!" he protested.
"Am too," she prodded his leg in an attempt to be menacing. "Answer the questions."
It had tickled more than menaced. Raistlin snorted, batting her hand away. "I switched because of my deeds—they merited a black robe rather than red. It was also a decision influenced by a... by someone close to me." A grim smile touched his lips, spreading them thinly. It was as close as he could get to the truth without giving much away. "I am being accommodating so that we can get to know each other better." A tiny half-truth, but what he knew she wanted to hear.
She frowned, mildly suspicious. "Hmm. What happened to all of this 'I'm a secretive, personal person'?"
"Isn't a person allowed to change?" he retorted, hoping to catch her in her own stream of logic.
"Well, yes," Ari concluded. She shifted positions and tried to sit up, hoping that the room would cooperate with her vision. Things seemed fairly stable. Maybe she was getting better. "Does Tanis feel like this? This... not really belonging anywhere feeling?"
Raistlin considered this. He knew the half-elf was deeply at war with himself over which side of his heritage he belonged to; that much had been evident in his physical struggle between commitment to Kitiara or Laurana years ago. He only supposed that Tanis had found a balance between the two. "He used to. I think he resolved things within himself, though, years ago. Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm not light-hearted enough to feel really comfortable with other kender and not graceful enough to gain approval when I'm with elves. I just feel out of sorts sometimes." She fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. "Do you ever feel that way about other mages? Like you don't belong?"
"All the time. One gets used to it, though. You will, too, if you're able to convince yourself that it doesn't matter that you fit in."
"I think I'm mostly there; it's only occasionally that I feel funny."
Raistlin regarded her. She still had her paint clothes on. The dark blue material of her pants was ripped in either knee and fairly plastered with a multitude of painted colors. Her gray long-sleeved shirt wasn't covered in paint, which he figured was due to the covering nature of the button-up shirt that she wore over whatever she had on. That was still at the Inn and neatly folded, under the paintbrushes. Over one cheek was a blue swipe of color and on her hands were various colors. It was at one of these offensive colors that she turned her attention, picking absently at her nail. The rose he had given her lay on one bare knee.
"Are you feeling less dizzy?" he asked.
"So far so good. It was really bad when I stood up, so I think I like it right here on the floor. Right now my head's working on the ultimate headache. Presently, it's just a dull roar, but I know it's going to kill me later on. With luck I'll be unconscious at that point."
"I'm surprised you haven't passed out yet."
She nodded, "Note to self: moderation is the key."
A chuckle escaped Raistlin's lips. "I believe I told you to take it a little slower. Especially if you've never had it before."
Ari shot him a look, "How'd you know?"
He smiled thinly, "Magic."
Outside birds were in full chorus and people could be heard moving around, taking care of daily chores before the day's heat grew unbearable. Already the day promised to be characteristically hot. It was to the window that his gaze was drawn, as there was once again a lapse of silence in their conversation. Surprisingly talking with her was growing easier and easier. Initially he had manipulated their conversations so that he could get as much information from her as possible, he hadn't been interested in learning anything about her other than what was beneficial to him. Now, he found that he enjoyed talking without a specific goal in mind. It helped ease the loneliness that sometimes felt like it was gnawing at his heart.
Raistlin nearly jumped out of his skin when Ari's head hit his lap, interrupting his musings. He bent over her still form, wondering what had happened. Her wine-breath and gentle snoring greeted him. Gently he poked her side. She gave a snort, burying her head into his legs further. He gave another prod, but it did not budge her anymore. A sigh escaped his lips as he struggled out from underneath her head, trying not to let her slam into the floor, albeit covered with an area rug.
He coughed softly as he rose to his feet. The wine bottle and gasses he deposited in the kitchen to be cleaned later and returned to his room. It looked like Caramon and Tika weren't yet up. Ari's prone form still lay on the floor, unmoving. He snickered softly, vastly amused by her inexperienced experience.
From a drawer he removed a quill, some ink, and a piece of parchment. He sat at the table and scribed a short letter to her, folding it in half. Raistlin placed it under the rose that was now on the ground. She would find it when she woke up, along with the sensations of nausea, and a headache to rival all headaches. His lips brushed her forehead softly, sending a bit of magic into her; that would hopefully cause her to sleep many more hours than she normally would, perhaps giving her body a chance to recover before she fully awakened.
Raistlin cast a transportation spell back to his cold tower. He appeared in the library, behind his apprentice. A smile threatened to tug at his lips as he coughed gently to get Dalamar's attention. The dark elf jumped considerably, his elven calm shattered. By the time Dalamar had turned, both of their masks were back on.
"Shalifi, I did not hear you come in," the elf murmured.
'Goddess, it's good to be home,' Raistlin thought to himself, as he breezed past his apprentice to start perusing the shelves.
AN: Hey, sorry it's so short! I usually type more, but it's just not been coming to me lately. My mind's been trying to sort things out and deal with things (I've got a baby coming in about 8 months!!! Surprise me! I'm not even showing yet, and I want to go out and shop for maternity clothing. haha) and figure out if I want to go back to school in the fall... yadda yadda. So, I'll try to work on it more. I know what I want to happen, it's just the words aren't cooperating (yes, that's it, I'll blame the words..) Thank you so much to all of you for writing and telling me what you think!! I really love hearing from you, even if it's to complain.
AN: I propose a theory about earth that's a little far-fetched. It shouldn't offend you, because it's just a theory and it's just for the sake of the story. I don't actually believe this (even though it would be pretty cool).
Ch 10: A Twee Bit Way Too Much
Raistlin could clearly see that she was drunk—about as drunk as they come without passing dead out. The effects of the wine had not quite reached that point in his system, he was relaxed and had a mildly 'floating' feeling. It was pleasant really, with her there, clinging to him and swaying ever so gently as if to music. Ask anyone and they would have said that he too was drunk.
She was glaring at her surroundings in general, trying to figure out what was making them spin so much. Ari glanced down at her feet, in attempt to see if they were the ones doing the spinning, but only succeeded in becoming vertigo. Abruptly she shut her eyes and leaned against him, which made her feel like she wasn't moving anymore. She chanced to open one eye and immediately the whirling commenced. A groan escaped her lips as she squinched her eyes firmly closed. It wasn't all that bad to stand here next to him. In fact, he was quite warm and she loved it. She moved so that instead of clenching his arms with her hands, she had her arms wrapped around his middle.
"We cannot stay this way forever," he told her, chuckling.
She nodded in disagreement. "Can too. I'm comfortable." She hugged him tighter, forgetting the rose in her hand until it pricked her to remind her of its presence. "Besides, I think I'm horribly drunk," she slurred nearly imperceptibly.
"How does that make your point?'
"Too drunk to go anywhere else. The world spins when I open my eyes. Better just stay here with you," she giggled at her situation.
"What am I to do with you?" he asked, too amused to say anything else.
She shrugged unsteadily. "Help me sit, and then talk to me some more. Why don't you look like Caramon? Aren't you supposed to be twins?"
Raistlin sighed, depositing her on the floor where she immediately toppled over and laid on her back. Her vision was a lot steadier once she was lying down.
"Well," he began, arranging his robes around him so that he could sit comfortably on the floor beside her, "to become a mage, one has to talke a very dangerous test. At the completion, they choose the color of the robes of the gods they most affiliate with. Each test for each person is different—it is molded especially for the individual. Nearly everyone is affected by the test in some shape or form. That is why I look as I do. My eyes were a 'gift' from Par-Salian, the head of the Conclave. They are to teach me compassion, but as you can clearly see, I have no capacity for such a thing. I came out changed in body and soul, wearing the red robes. Due to circumstances later on, I changed to black." Before she could ask what said circumstances were, he asked her a question, "What is it like on your world? You have mages and kender and elves, I gather."
Ari frowned in concentration. "It's really hard to explain. You see, everything is something, we haven't too many real humans, but they just don't know it.' At his creased forehead, she continued, "The way it works, as it was explained to me, is that there is one God. He is known to each culture as someone different, but is essentially the same. Even to those that have many gods, it is just different aspects of the same god. In order to create unity on the planet, we all appear in the image he finds most pleasing—human. However, within each person is a true identity—an elf, an ogre, a fairy. This true form is not released until the person believes in what we call the fantasy realm. This is where all the true forms come from. Once they believe, their true selves become apparent, as does those of everyone around them. Children and those of pure hearts can automatically see. That is why children feed off of fairy tales or report seeing magical things. Usually, when they grow up, they are influenced by the world that says that there are no such things. Most children lose their sight and sometimes never regain it. I, for example, always believed and wasn't touched by the world. So I have lived in my true form since I was born. My father and grandfather both know, but no one else in my family is aware. I've tried to open their eyes, but grandpa says that they need to learn of it in their own way. Does that make sense?"
Raistlin's brow had remained furrowed for the duration of her discourse. He slowly nodded, more caught up in the one god theory than anything. "So, if you only have one god is it not chaotic? How does that god deal with good and evil?"
"He is essentially good, though he does not force himself upon us. We have free will to do as we see fit."
"What use is such a god if he doesn't influence?"
"He's there to comfort us. It is better that there is someone there than an empty nothingness, don't you think?" she urged.
Raistlin shrugged, "I don't know. This is a very strange concept. Alright, so about you... what is this Empath/Pretender thing you talk about?"
"It started out as yet another genetic experiment several generations ago. Those people had children, and several of those were either Pretenders or Empaths, or a fun little hybrid of the two. Instead of needing to tamper with those children, they isolated them so that they could tap their abilities. Some of them escaped and began families of their own. 'Special' children kept popping up so the Centre had no end to the supply of thinkers and planners they needed. Often times, the Centre would take the children under the premise of enrolling them into a privet school. Parents couldn't complain because the Centre has ways of insuring cooperation, many of them ending in bloodshed. Being raised in the air ducts of such a place gives a person a wonderful inside look at a corrupt corporation; makes one feel like one lives in a movie or at least a very good thriller novel." She had been absently examining the ceiling, but turned her attention back to the mage, "This is fun. Like 20 questions. Is it bigger than a breadbox?"
"Is what bigger than a breadbox?" He asked, thinking frantically back to any mention of said breadbox.
"I think that's the first question you ask. The next one, I think, is; is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?"
"And that's a game one plays?'
"Only when one is desperate and past the point of no return sanity-wise. My turn to ask something... let's see... do you really hate your brother?"
"What kind of question is that? Of course I do. Most of the time," he amended. "He doesn't understand me and he pities me. What's not to hate?"
"But he's your brother!" she defended.
"Which is why I don't hate him all of the time. He occasionally redeems himself, and then just as quickly, muddles things up again." Raistlin saw no need at this point to withhold anything in particular. Exposing himself would only draw her in more, sealing her off to any other outside influence. "My turn. How are you getting back home?"
Ari looked blank for a moment. "Good question. I'm not entirely positive. Grandpa said he's be keeping in touch, but he never said how." She giggled suddenly, "I know! They've stranded me here in hopes of never seeing me again! That would be my Auntie Parker's doing. She thinks I'm a horrible influence on Alysa."
"When you do return home, may I come with you?" he asked.
She cast him a dubious look, "I don't know if it'd be allowed."
"And you having free reign on my plant is?" he crossed his arms, glaring stubbornly at her.
"Hey, it's alright with me—I just don't know if you'd fit in—"
"Better than you did here," he snapped. "Unlike you, I would be careful of what I said to people."
"You don't have to be so defensive," she huffed. "I get to ask questions now. First off, why did you switch to black robes, and secondly, why are you actually answering my questions?"
"You aren't allowed to ask that!" he protested.
"Am too," she prodded his leg in an attempt to be menacing. "Answer the questions."
It had tickled more than menaced. Raistlin snorted, batting her hand away. "I switched because of my deeds—they merited a black robe rather than red. It was also a decision influenced by a... by someone close to me." A grim smile touched his lips, spreading them thinly. It was as close as he could get to the truth without giving much away. "I am being accommodating so that we can get to know each other better." A tiny half-truth, but what he knew she wanted to hear.
She frowned, mildly suspicious. "Hmm. What happened to all of this 'I'm a secretive, personal person'?"
"Isn't a person allowed to change?" he retorted, hoping to catch her in her own stream of logic.
"Well, yes," Ari concluded. She shifted positions and tried to sit up, hoping that the room would cooperate with her vision. Things seemed fairly stable. Maybe she was getting better. "Does Tanis feel like this? This... not really belonging anywhere feeling?"
Raistlin considered this. He knew the half-elf was deeply at war with himself over which side of his heritage he belonged to; that much had been evident in his physical struggle between commitment to Kitiara or Laurana years ago. He only supposed that Tanis had found a balance between the two. "He used to. I think he resolved things within himself, though, years ago. Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm not light-hearted enough to feel really comfortable with other kender and not graceful enough to gain approval when I'm with elves. I just feel out of sorts sometimes." She fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. "Do you ever feel that way about other mages? Like you don't belong?"
"All the time. One gets used to it, though. You will, too, if you're able to convince yourself that it doesn't matter that you fit in."
"I think I'm mostly there; it's only occasionally that I feel funny."
Raistlin regarded her. She still had her paint clothes on. The dark blue material of her pants was ripped in either knee and fairly plastered with a multitude of painted colors. Her gray long-sleeved shirt wasn't covered in paint, which he figured was due to the covering nature of the button-up shirt that she wore over whatever she had on. That was still at the Inn and neatly folded, under the paintbrushes. Over one cheek was a blue swipe of color and on her hands were various colors. It was at one of these offensive colors that she turned her attention, picking absently at her nail. The rose he had given her lay on one bare knee.
"Are you feeling less dizzy?" he asked.
"So far so good. It was really bad when I stood up, so I think I like it right here on the floor. Right now my head's working on the ultimate headache. Presently, it's just a dull roar, but I know it's going to kill me later on. With luck I'll be unconscious at that point."
"I'm surprised you haven't passed out yet."
She nodded, "Note to self: moderation is the key."
A chuckle escaped Raistlin's lips. "I believe I told you to take it a little slower. Especially if you've never had it before."
Ari shot him a look, "How'd you know?"
He smiled thinly, "Magic."
Outside birds were in full chorus and people could be heard moving around, taking care of daily chores before the day's heat grew unbearable. Already the day promised to be characteristically hot. It was to the window that his gaze was drawn, as there was once again a lapse of silence in their conversation. Surprisingly talking with her was growing easier and easier. Initially he had manipulated their conversations so that he could get as much information from her as possible, he hadn't been interested in learning anything about her other than what was beneficial to him. Now, he found that he enjoyed talking without a specific goal in mind. It helped ease the loneliness that sometimes felt like it was gnawing at his heart.
Raistlin nearly jumped out of his skin when Ari's head hit his lap, interrupting his musings. He bent over her still form, wondering what had happened. Her wine-breath and gentle snoring greeted him. Gently he poked her side. She gave a snort, burying her head into his legs further. He gave another prod, but it did not budge her anymore. A sigh escaped his lips as he struggled out from underneath her head, trying not to let her slam into the floor, albeit covered with an area rug.
He coughed softly as he rose to his feet. The wine bottle and gasses he deposited in the kitchen to be cleaned later and returned to his room. It looked like Caramon and Tika weren't yet up. Ari's prone form still lay on the floor, unmoving. He snickered softly, vastly amused by her inexperienced experience.
From a drawer he removed a quill, some ink, and a piece of parchment. He sat at the table and scribed a short letter to her, folding it in half. Raistlin placed it under the rose that was now on the ground. She would find it when she woke up, along with the sensations of nausea, and a headache to rival all headaches. His lips brushed her forehead softly, sending a bit of magic into her; that would hopefully cause her to sleep many more hours than she normally would, perhaps giving her body a chance to recover before she fully awakened.
Raistlin cast a transportation spell back to his cold tower. He appeared in the library, behind his apprentice. A smile threatened to tug at his lips as he coughed gently to get Dalamar's attention. The dark elf jumped considerably, his elven calm shattered. By the time Dalamar had turned, both of their masks were back on.
"Shalifi, I did not hear you come in," the elf murmured.
'Goddess, it's good to be home,' Raistlin thought to himself, as he breezed past his apprentice to start perusing the shelves.
AN: Hey, sorry it's so short! I usually type more, but it's just not been coming to me lately. My mind's been trying to sort things out and deal with things (I've got a baby coming in about 8 months!!! Surprise me! I'm not even showing yet, and I want to go out and shop for maternity clothing. haha) and figure out if I want to go back to school in the fall... yadda yadda. So, I'll try to work on it more. I know what I want to happen, it's just the words aren't cooperating (yes, that's it, I'll blame the words..) Thank you so much to all of you for writing and telling me what you think!! I really love hearing from you, even if it's to complain.