Renaissance

by Nine of Swords

Gwendolyn, a normal girl, has visions of a figure black as night, with eyes like storm yet he looks upon her with paternal pride. Who is he? Is he real? Or is it all in her head? Part 1 of the Rebirth of Magic Cycle.

5. The Rebirth of Magic

Disclaimer: Any character you don't recognize is most likely mine (i.e. Gwen, Adrian, Lynn). Everything else (i.e. Nuitari, Dalamar, Raistlin, Ladonna, etc.) belongs to Margaret Weiss/Tracey Hickman and Wizards of the Coast.

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            I've been reading the Dragonlance books. I know the hearts of my family now.

            I know Ladonna's rule over the Tower of High Sorcery.

            I know Dalamar's sacrifice, the one word that cast away all he loved save magic- "Nuitari."

            I know the awesome power of Raistlin Majere, the Master of Past and Present.

            I know my father, the Devouring Dark, the black moon over Krynn, Nuitari, god of black magic.

            All I do not know is who I am. There is no mention of a child of Nuitari, a granddaughter of Sargonnas god of Vengeance and Takhisis the Dragon Queen. I don't know who I am. All I know is that I am a goddess.

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            I am in my chambers in the Halls of Nuitari. The echoing in the vaulted rooms is soothing- I respond to the knock at my door.

            It is Dalamar. "My lady, your father has sent me." He bows respectfully.

            I halt him, motion for him to straighten. "I know not who I am. Do not offer me the honor I do not deserve." I look him straight in the eye. "Tell me why you honor me so."

            He motions for me to follow. We whisk down the hallways, past countless doors, countless passages, until we reach another great pair of doors. They do not creak open- they fly. We stand in the entrance of a library that can never be paralleled by the plane I come from. "Your birthright." He gestures to the endless rows of shelves. "All the magic ever dedicated to your father. You can not use it yet, but you are born to magery. A time to train, and you will be able to work even the most powerful spell contained here." He picks up a pile of black velvet and places it in my arms. "Don your robes." A strange glance from me, and he elucidates. "Over your clothes, Renetari."

            I slip into the comforting blackness, then ask, "What did you call me?"

            "Renetari." He guides me to a worktable, set underneath a great glass dome, which the moons of my father's cousins, Solinari and Lunitari, shine through. He points to the runes embroidered on the edge of my sleeve.

The meaning leaps to my mind. "The rebirth of magic."