Disclaimer: Not at all mine. Really. I don't think that I want them, really- I think that I'd rather admire them at a distance, especially Raistlin, and bask in their presence (does that sound as weird as I think that it does?).

Author's Notes: I have some sort of utter fasination with Raistlin- he's probably my favorite male (book) character. I also like Dalamar and Kit. For some reason, I am almost totally unable to see the Dragonlance characters as sexual beings, so if there's anything of a sexual nature in this it's probably an accident. This made it onto my computer pretty fast, but it sat there for several weeks, until I pulled myself together and edited it. OH... "Shalafi" is the elven word for "Master"- in "Test of the Twins" Dalamar actually does call Raistlin this and Tanis translates it.

I, Shalafi

I can almost see him from my post in the study, his golden skin and white hair shining in the half-darkness, a beacon of obsession and a warning to all those who seek to master and to be lost in the Art.

Even after all this time, his presence still lingers.

Like him, I never heeded the warnings. Like him, I found myself living for nothing but the magic. And, like him, it was the cause of my exile from everything that I had once held dear. But by the time that had happened, I cared for nothing else.

When I was at the Conclave, the masters talked about him as though he were nothing more- and nothing less- than an extremely arrogant, abeit powerful dark wizard. Even then, I laughed at their foolishness. If he was only arrogant, then how had he become powerful? Even the most proud must bend to gain what they most desire. If he was only powerful, why did they speak of him in hushed tones behind their too white, shaking hands? Par-Salian, head of the Conclave and the White Robes, was also powerful, but they almost never spoke of him with fear in their eyes.

Even then, when I had only listened to the bit that they claimed to know about him, when I had only heard the rumors, when I had only read the biased, beaten-down or mythical books about him, I worshipped Raistlin Majere. Even then, I would have done anything to serve as his apprentice. Even then, I would have done anything for him, had he only been willing to teach me the Art.

When the Conclave announced that they wanted to implant a spy inside the Shoikan Grove, inside his tower, I jumped at the task. Did I know, they asked time and time again, the risks that I was taking? As they went on and on, I could only nod my head yes, yes, yes, over and over.

As long as he would teach me, he could torture me, destroy me, even kill me, and I would not care- all that I cared about was the power that he could give me. Everything else, even my own life, was just a sidenote, glimpsed only long enough to be comprehended and then pushed aside.

And so, Raistlin became my Shalafi.

Under his tutelage, I became powerful, I became dark, and, yes, I too became arrogant. Despite this, I never allowed myself the delusion that I could defeat him- I fully acknowledged that he was still much more powerful than I and that I still had much to learn, both from him and in general.

"Maybe someday," my arrogance whispered.

I still don't know if I ever expected "someday" to come true.

In time, I would have liked to think that I had at least gained his respect. Still I was not surprised that Raistlin told me his plan only after he had already implemented it. At least my Shalafi didn't lie to me, but instead told me everything. Crysania, Fistandantilus, Bupu, the Dwarf-Gate Wars, his eventual assault on the Queen of Darkness Herself- everything. It crossed my mind that he was mad, but I never doubted the honesty of what he told me, just as I never doubted his potential to succeed.

Of course, I told the Conclave everything, and I know that Raistlin expected no less. If there was every anything "good" to say about Raistlin, it was that he always paid his debts, and that he had taught his apprentice to do the same. My Shalafi would have known by that time that I was a double agent, and I still don't know why he didn't kill me for it. Perhaps he thought that I had potential. Maybe he felt that he had to keep his messenger-bird alive so that people knew what he was doing; how they would soon have a new constellation to worship in the sky. Either way, I may have only been his pawn, but I still got what I wanted, in the end.

I was never supposed to accompany him, however. My only job, besides telling the Conclave of his plans, was to guard the portal until his return, until the day that he would lead the Queen of Darkness onto this plane and would, as was his plan, kill her and by that himself become a god.

I wonder now if he already knew that I would betray him.

I wonder, also, what would have my reward been if he had been victorious. Caramon never spoke of the future that he saw and Tas saw, and the kender, too, was unusually silent, but eventually I read Astinus' "unwritten" account. Since the world died, would I too have perished? I am unable to see how he could have saved me, and I wonder how long I would have survived in that hellish future, or even if he would have allowed me to keep living after my tasks for him were completed.

Raistlin, it is said, didn't know about that future, so what was he planning in its stead? Wars? Power? Books? Knowledge? I suppose that no one will ever know.

All along, I was the one who betrayed him, and he never betrayed me. He punished me- I will bear the imprint of that cursed hand until my death; it will never heal- but he never betrayed me, even as I caused his death.

I watched him in the portal. I watched him speak with Caramon, watched him face the Queen, watched him die- and still his shadow seems to persist. That is how powerful he was in life, that even his death could not overshadow his presence.

But now, all that matters is that Raistlin failed, and that I am the Shalafi. I had to do nothing but allow Caramon and Tanis into the tower. Caramon truly saved us all, and I am hardly loathe to admit it. Sometimes, I am glad that I was spared fighting or killing Raistlin- not because he was my master, but because it would have forced me to accept that he was only a man, and therefore mortal. Somehow, seeing him die at the Dark Queens' talons has allowed him to be spared that fate.

Do I miss Raistlin? No. I am bringing my own apprentices here, to this tower, and here I will teach them what I know and what I have learned- both from Raistlin himself and what I learned from his-now my- spellbooks. The door to the portal is sealed and guarded. I am the powerful one, the only apprentice of the darkest mage since Fistandantilus himself- the only apprentice of a mage who was, if possible, even darker and more feared- and revered.

I am the master, and I have never lived for more. Before Raistlin left this world he set the foundations that I will build upon, and thousands after me.

Just as Raistlin journeyed back in time to take Fistandantilus' place, I wonder if someone will ever travel back in time to take Raistlin's place, or even mine. If they do, and they- as Raistlin- succeed, I pray only that I will never see that day. Death, I know now, would be preferable.

I find comfort in that it will most likely be a very long time before there is another strong enough in the Art to do it, another mage with the dark soul and amazing powers of my Shalafi. Let Raistlin rot in his grave- all that is past.

This is now- this is my future, to do with as I please.

The cycle has finally come full circle.

I, Dalamar.

I, Magus.

I, Shalafi.

Ending Notes: I personally find the thing about time-travel at the end (someone going back to take Raistlin's place ect.) very disturbing. I shudder for Krynn if it ever happens. Even after 3 revisions (not including the first draft) I'm still not totally sure of this piece, or that I'm doing it justice. It seems a bit dry. I... just don't know. I want to like it, I really do. I like the ending a lot. Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks!