Chapter 7

Reach For the Stars

Rhuadhán's body reformed from the haze of magic and light it had been, and he stumbled forward not on the snow softened peak of Kangri Rinpoche, but on a path of red marble tiles. Blinking his eyes and looking around hardly helped with reorienting himself, as there was little landscape to speak of. Everything seemed to be blanketed in a shimmering mist, pearlescent and heavy, so thick that one might just be able to lay on it and take a nap. The mist was refracting light from an indefinable source so that the area was plentifully lit, however, almost dazzlingly so, which wouldn't be all that conducive to a restful sleep...

The Master of Magic shook his head, confused by the train of thought. And then, as he glanced over the mists, he noticed the light emanating from it was subtly pulsing in a peculiar, unnatural pattern. There was an enchantment fused into the mists.

He had the unsettling feeling, strong enough so that he didn't feel the need to cast out his own magic to confirm it, that if he wasn't careful, his mind could be ensnared by whatever magic was infused into this mist. If he wasn't careful, he could step off the wrong way into the mist and if he wasn't lulled into resting, he'd still spend an age trying to find his way back through its seemingly endless brilliance. He needed to tune out the lit mist and concentrate on why he was here.

Rhuadhán turned his gaze down and forced himself to focus on the path beneath his feet, to regain that point of reference and safety. Then his gaze followed the path, doing his best to ignore the mist, trying to find what he sought. The red bricks wound ahead like a red ribbon through a small mountain of shimmering cotton... and led there! To a small, markedly windowless, temple of three stories, made from stones of red and golden hues that were similar to those found on the cliffs that housed the Kandrö Tor, and the high pitched roof common to Buddhist temples of the region that had just been left behind. That was where he needed to go.

He needed to get moving and claim his reward, but even without the lingering enchantment in the air attempting to ensnare him, his body was having difficulties accommodating his will to do so after being put through the strains of rapid transformation and then reformation. The magical high that he had be experiencing from the energy he had pulled in on the Path of Rebirth had evaporated, and the exhaustion he had been experiencing near Shiva-Tsal had returned with a vengeance. Even with his victory so close at hand, his target destination in sight, Rhuadhán had to concede a minor delay to his own body's demand for recovery, spending a short time simply standing on the path and concentrating on his breathing and making sure he didn't stumble off the path. When the shaking that threatened to send him tumbling to his knees had lessened to fine muscle tremors that were beyond his ability to suppress, he started walking towards the temple, leaning heavily on his new staff to help keep stable.

Despite being able to feel the cool stone beneath his feet, neither feet nor staff made noise against the tiles as he made his way towards the temple. If the blood his feet were surely dripping touched the pathway, he couldn't see mark of his passage when he reached the steps leading up to the temple's front doors and glanced over his shoulder. One could hardly expect such a place to obey the laws of physics if the resident deity didn't wish for it to be so; and apparently that deity, locally known as Lord Shiva, and properly identified in Sihir as Majere, wanted this particular heavenly residence to feel as isolated and untainted by outside influences as possible.

Rhuadhán took his time ascending the stairs, biting back both grunts of pain and words of rebuke towards the deity in residence. The Master of Kangri Rinpoche could have made the path run straight to the doors, without stairs needed, but was being petty again. 'Let the old man have his spiteful little jabs... I've passed his bloody Test and the Bifrost opened at my command. And whatever enchantment he has out here as a last ditch means of stopping guests can't ensnare me. He has no choice but to hand over my prize and allow me to go on my way. All that these little stunts accomplish is forcing us to tolerate the other's immediate presence all the longer.'

The Master of Time half expected, upon reaching the top of the stairs and limping towards the doors to the temple, to find said bronze doors barred and having to use magic to force his way inside. It seemed, however, that the Master of Thought was finally realizing such efforts would be futile to forestall the meeting and relinquishing the Vajra to its rightful owner. As the Champion approached, the door on the right silently swung open.

The interior of the temple was dimly lit by a pale rosy light from a source out of sight from where he stood, only the first several meters visible. What could be seen was a gathering room, devoid of figures or adornment, crimson floors bare and ceiling shadowed.

The entire area was heavy with latent magic, but the Master of Magic couldn't sense anything in particular formed around the entryway as some sort of barrier or trap.

Rhuadhán stepped through the threshold, and nothing untoward befell him. An eyebrow rose with mild surprise, and he glanced around. The light seemed to be coming from some enchantment within the walls of the temple, causing them to emit a uniform glow. Whatever the enchantment, it wasn't spreading upon entrance to illuminate the remainder of the temple's interior.

The mage-priest shook his head, then called out, "I wasn't expecting you to roll out the red carpet and throw me a congratulatory party, but this extreme of an opposite reaction is a bit ridiculous." His voice echoed back fairly quickly, in a clear reverberation, telling him that the acoustics in the room were quite good, but the room itself was about as small as it appeared from the outside and as empty as the front portion was. "I'm just as happy to not speak with you, old man, so if you'd rather skip the formalities and teleport my prize next to the door, by all means hand over the Vajra and let me be on my way!"

A glance over his shoulder told him that the deity hadn't charitably magicked any packages by the door. Rhuadhán heaved a sigh. His gaze turned back forward and he resolved himself to trying to search the temple floor by floor, having to climb however many blasted stairs there were with his abused feet screaming protests the whole way.

Before he could shift his staff and take his first step towards enacting that decision, the glow coming from the walls flared to a near blinding brightness. Sapphire eyes reactively closed, and he checked the impulse to throw up his free arm to cover his eyes, instead doubling his hold on his staff and hoping dear Dahareslin would again protect him if this was the opening to some sort of attack he was not permitted to defend himself properly from.

The Master of Magic sensed a flux in magic ahead of him, but it was quite clearly not the formation of a spell or conjuration of some sort of guardian. The magic was a divine aura forming, an unmistakable aura that was utterly grating for the mage-priest to sense.

Then the light was fading back to its previous dim glow, and as Rhuadhán blinked open his eyes, Majere's voice could be heard, flowing as smoothly as a quiet autumn brook. "Majikahla, if you truly believe that I will simply hand you the Vajra because you made it up here, you are going to be deeply disappointed."

Rhuadhán could see the deity now, standing about five meters away- tall and lean, with white hair long and pulled back from his thin deeply tanned face, lapis eyes focused on the mortal. His red and saffron robes were as simple and unadorned as his temple, dhonka and namjar of an older style of cut and even more conservative pattern than the ones the Champion currently wore. "As was on constant display throughout the night, the only thing that disappoints me where you're concerned is your lack of creativity when trying to come up with ways to challenge me. I played your damn game, and we can both see that I've won it."

"You may have passed the Tests of Kangri Rinpoche on a base level, Majikahla..." The deity's voice stayed seemingly placid, but now it carried a hint of dangers lurking in its depths. "...But you have gone through these challenges with motivations that are beneath the boon you seek, and at every turn made mockery of the sacred proceedings you forced your way through."

Rhuadhán willed a smirk to form, and he said with all the nonchalance he could muster, gesturing with one hand to the temple floor beneath him, "And yet, Master of Monks, here I stand. I bathed in Tukje Chenpo and soaked in its healing properties without trouble, decoded Milarepa's puzzle and claimed Dahareslin for my own, outlasted those bloody tigers you sent after me, passed the Test 'Lord Yama' placed before me, finished the sacred khora in unprecedented time, and ascended across planar boundaries to reach this temple. Kangri Rinpoche itself didn't turn against me during my travels, and the Bifrost recognized my lifeforce and whisked me on up here. Both of those primordial forces are unarguably far more unbiased than you are in deciding my worth..."

"Which is to say they're mindless, unthinking forces that you're able to find loopholes in to exploit," Majere interrupted, anger rippling up to disturb his cadence for a moment before subsiding back down.

"Apparently I was so unclear in what I meant to say?" Rhuadhán asked dryly. "I apologize. What I was actually implying is that you are an over-analytical, self righteous prick who can't stand when things don't go as you plan, when you can't control every tiny aspect of how one thinks, eats, lives, prays, and seeks enlightenment. If it's not your way, you think it's tainted, and will refuse all evidence to the contrary. You are as biased and bigoted as they come, and it's surprising you count as being on the side of 'Good' with those domination tendencies poisoning everything you..."

"How dare you speak to me in such fashion in my own domain, you impertinent child!" The deity's face showed a flash of his wrath, and he seemed to expand, to grow to looming height; yet the Master of Magic could tell that his form had stayed the same size, it was merely a distortion to the senses caused by his aura fluctuating to such proportions. "You think you can insult every aspect of my existence and then demand my cooperation and aid? You have no right to..."

"Oh, we both know I have every right to..." Rhuadhán interrupted icily, eyes narrowing on the deity.

Majere interrupted even more quickly, taking a step forward. "You only have what rights we deem you to have earned. And I have every reason to believe you can't be trusted with being bound to The Three's Daughter and being granted aid in taking a place among us. You are a selfish, short-sighted, narcissist who doesn't understand half of what it is he seeks and is nearly as likely to destroy creation as Kali is..."

"Yes, well, thankfully for me," Rhuadhán said dismissively, "The Three are my patrons, not you. The Three are her parents, not you. And Eros himself has helped broker the arrangements, and you take your orders from him." His smirk returned with a malicious, anticipatory edge. "So whatever say you would normally have for being the one to stick his divine flame in my ancestress' mortal oven and causing me to pop out a few generations later is overridden by the majority ruling of those directly involved. And the four to one ruling is I have a right to ascend to Godhood if I can manage the transition, I have the right to pursue Hope as my wife and she's already accepted my proposal, and we are to take over control of this world in The Three's stead while they recover from dealing with Kali. And I was given explicit instructions to take command of the Vajra to aid in the process. So unless you want one of my first acts when I become the God of Time and patron of this world to be ripping your bridge from my world and secluding you back to your old haunts, you had best follow the rules and hand over the Vajra."

"You seem to forget that carrying out your many threats requires you to ascend first," Majere's voice cracked with his rage now. "Even if you have traces of my influence buried in your soul and granting you power beyond your mortal peers, you are still very much mortal and beneath me in power, especially at so young an age of an incarnation..."

"Ah, this incarnation may be young, and my powers may not be at their height," Rhuadhán corrected, "but I am still protected by Magic and Time. You might be able to damage my body; hell, you can kill this incarnation- but bluster about your divine might all you want, we both know you can't truly touch me. My soul being released from flesh just opens up a world of extra possibilities for how I can plague your already miserable existence. And if you're petty enough to try delaying the inevitable by killing off my current incarnation, you invoke Eros' ire for disobeying his orders and jeopardizing our defeat of Kali. So spare me the empty threats, old man."

"I was only ordered to hand over the Vajra when I was satisfied you had been properly tested. Given your aims that exceed a normal petitioner's, and your irreverence in undertaking proceedings this far, I am not satisfied that you've been Tested thoroughly enough and have come to an appropriate appreciation for the balances that exist within the company you seek to join."

"You hypocritical bastard!" Rhuadhán snapped out. "And you dare to criticize me for exploiting loopholes?! You are never 'satisfied' with anything I do! I passed your usual tests, and dealt with extenuating challenges beyond a normal petitioner's when you sicced Sonic the White Tigers after me!"

Majere smirked, a smirk that was similar to the one often worn by the mortal standing across from him. "I did no such thing. That was Parvati's doing."

"And you did nothing to stop her!"

The Master of Kangri Rinpoche gave the smallest of shrugs. "My companion had every right to seek retribution for the treatment you gave her and her sisters, and she was breaking no rules of the holy mountain."

Rhuadhán's jaw clenched for a moment, and then he bit out, "The Drölma wolves came to my aid, so clearly Parvati's 'retribution' was deemed unwarranted and excessive."

Majere shrugged again. "I heeded that decision and subsequently prevented Parvati from sending anything else... Be that as it may be, I have not personally tested you beyond how a common petitioner would be challenged, and Yama all but carried you through the section of the Test he was responsible for..."

"'All but carried' me through?" Rhuadhán asked indignantly. "Anubis knocked me unconscious, cursed me with freakish decay vision and extreme physical fatigue, repeatedly tried to mindfuck me, and then sent a quartet of his guardians to chase me! That was hardly going easy on me."

"The Test at Shiva-Tsal is meant to challenge a petitioner, to make them tear down the false layers of ego they carry, sacrifice those things holding them back, and come through the Test with a greater understanding of themselves..."

"Are you accusing Anubis of handwaving all that?" Rhuadhán challenged. "Let's call him up from the underworld and see what he has to say about such an accusation."

"I'm saying that he only sought the most superficial of sacrifices from you to allow you passage," Majere said immovably. "You are no different after this Test than you were before."

"Then what does that tell you, if you're willing to be honest with yourself?" the Master of Time demanded. "I have been successfully refining my soul. I know who and what I am and am guided by that. There's not going to be some dramatic revelation because it is not needed! You just can't stand that who and what I am is not what you want! You can't accept that I'm not some obsequious lackey like your little sexbots, or a near carbon copy clone that seeks to model every aspect of their existence after you like my ancestor did as your cleric! I am outside your control, have evolved beyond your narrow scope of existence, and that is driving you insane and causing you to try obstructing my ascension in every way you can!"

Majere raised an eyebrow, but his expression was far from entertained. "Are you quite done your temper tantrum, Majikahla?"

"You know what?" Rhuadhán snapped out. "Give me the bloody Vajra and its companion staff, and then go bugger off with Parvati for 5,000 years again. We'd all be thankful for your absence and perhaps you'll come back a little less uptight."

A brief, mirthless laugh escaped the deity. "While I am capable of such feats of endurance and prowess, that myth of a 5,000 year copulation at this site was not my doing. That would be The Three, creating the goddess you would claim as your wife. You really understand so little..."

Rhuadhán glanced around the temple casually. "So this was where She was created? Huh. Fancy that! Despite people trying so very hard to keep details of the Blessed One from me so I can't prematurely track her down, I'm finding out so many useful bits today." He could see a flash of chagrin on the deity's face as he realized his mistake, and he let a taunting smirk curl his lips. "Well then, scratch my threat for the simple disconnect from our world. I'm going to evict you from this cute little red temple The Mother must have been responsible for, redecorate a bit for my tastes, and then continue my wife's family's tradition by making this the site of our honeymoon and where I place my little legacies in her. Even though I said off the cuff to Anubis that it would be triplets, I'm warming up to the idea of making it a trio in honor of my future in-laws. Remind me again, Majere, how many full fledged divine offspring have you made? Oh, that's right... None. So much for that prowess of yours. But at least you'll have proper grandchildren after I overcome the mortal frailties you cursed me with and ascend."

"Even if you manage ascension, which you won't, you'll be incapable of reproducing," Majere stated assuredly.

"Oh, you think so? I'm going to thoroughly enjoy proving you wrong on yet another front."

"I know it!" Majere's voice shook the very temple they stood in. "You inevitably destroy everything you come into contact with! Selfish, petty, spiteful, devoid of love and empathy, stubbornly refusing to accept criticism or to reflect on your flaws- you are incapable of creation! You are incapable of true ascension! Nothing that has taken place tonight has satisfied my concerns or suggested that you are worthy of being granted that which you seek and putting you further down the path of claiming more."

"If I'm so incapable, then why not just give me what I want and then have the last laugh when I fail?" the mage-priest demanded.

"Because your failure will not simply harm you, it will harm those around you, and I have no desire to be a party to the destruction of worlds, Hope, and possibly Creation itself!"

"Is that the best excuse you have to lie to yourself with?" Rhuadhán asked. "That hyperbolic line of theory is pathetically thin. Regardless, we can go round and round all morning with your petty opinions, but it doesn't change the fact that by every conceivable measure, I passed my damn tests. Unless you want the wrath of The Three raining down on you, you will grant me the prize I earned and allow me to be on my way."

"I owe you nothing, Majikahla," Majere said, voice suddenly returning to deceptive placidity. "Like it or not, I don't need to give you anything, not until I am satisfied with your testing. Your enabling patrons cannot force me to hand over the Vajra before that criteria is met."

"So what is this to be, then?" Rhuadhán asked in exasperation. "Endless challenges in hopes I eventually slip up and this incarnation dies? Or that if I keep passing whatever little tests you manage to pull from your arse, you can at least delay long enough that Kali's plans will be carried out and the whole universe is destroyed, relieving you of ever having to admit I'm one creation beyond your control and equal to you?"

"No... Such suggestions would be unsporting and counter-intuitive to my beliefs and aims, though such an underhanded scheme sounds exactly like something you would do... I merely have one last challenge for you." Majere stated the last in a way that was far too smooth for the mage-priest's liking. "If your ascension is so inevitable and you're really so worthy, what's one final Test to prove yourself?"

"One last test? Definitively one task, not a marathon of ten thousand demands that are loosely connected?"

"Just one."

"How long will it take?"

"Depending on how you respond to the challenge, it could be done in less time than we've already spent arguing this morning."

"And what is the condition needing to be met for conceding my victory? So that you don't try and claim that even if I win, I lost because you didn't like the method?"

"If you're capable of walking out the doors, you've won."

"...Are you planning to chop off my legs and then claim victory even if I drag myself out because I didn't 'walk'?"

Majere glared at that. "Again, that would be something an evil entity, like you, would do."

"Being properly cautious does not make me evil; you're the one who has been all about the loopholes today." The Master of Time and Magic sighed with resignation. "Alright, old man. If you really want me to trounce you one final time today, who am I to deny you another humiliation? Make your move and let's bring tonight's game to an end."

.

.

.

His shalafi only seemed to be gone a score of seconds when Dalamar became aware of something decidedly abnormal happening on the summit of Kangri Rinpoche.

There was a sudden wild fluctuation of magic that burst out and could be felt from where they were on Drölma summit.

'Did he not manage to breach the barrier between realms and is now trying to tear his way through?' The dark elf barely had time to think the thought, then, like the aftershocks of an earthquake, several more pulses of magic followed. The magic felt wild, barely controlled, so unlike anything in Dalamar's experience that he couldn't begin to guess what was causing it. Whatever it was meant to do, however, it was diffused enough by the time it reached those below that it wasn't causing any immediately discernible harm or effects.

As quickly as it had begun, before the dark elf could attempt to work a spell to try identifying it, the bursts of magic stopped radiating out.

And that's when Dalamar noticed everything had gone eerily silent.

There were no sounds from the few birds in the area. Altankhüü was hunkered down close to Bilguun with his ears lowered and tail tucked tightly around his hindquarters. The Mongolian wolves were exchanging confused glances, but even Mönkhbold couldn't seem to find his voice to ask what just took place. Even the wind, relentless up until now, had gone quiet.

It was as if the entire mountain had taken a bracing breath in, and was waiting for some sign it was safe to exhale.

Then the dark elf's keen eyes noticed a seemingly small speck moving along the edge of Kangri Rinpoche's gently sloped peak. A speck that could be seen because, against the pristine snowy backdrop, its red color was like a drop of blood marring the face of a pale maiden.

Dalamar's breath caught in his throat, realizing it was his shalafi. Given the short period of time his master had been gone, and the brief bursts of magic, he couldn't begin to guess if Rhuadhán had succeeded, or had failed at the point of crossing and was now working up the courage to face them below.

The red speck crossed the short distance to the edge of the Rainbow Bridge, and then stopped.

A disappointed sigh escaped Dalamar. His master's hesitancy to descend didn't bode well at all. What had gone wrong? It had looked like the potion had worked and his master had successfully completed the Ritual of Ascension. Had he not been as precisely attuned as he needed to be?

Whatever had gone wrong, was he so slow in returning not out of damaged pride, but because he was injured from the failed attempt? Or injured from what may have been some sort of raging reaction to his failure?

Dalamar's confused pondering was again interrupted by magic.

Except, this time, the intent of the magic was unmistakable in purpose.

Because the magic was simply a spell to amplify sounds.

And the sounds being amplified were his shalafi's voice, again turned to a Queen song to herald his own success.

"Here we are!
Born to be king,
I'm the Prince of the Universe!

Here we belong.
Fighting to survive in a war with the darkest powers!"

The sounds of drums and an electric guitar echoed down from the summit, and Rhuadhán could be seen starting to jog down the Rainbow Bridge, instead of using magic to safely speed his way down, as though the creation of light was as substantial as one made of stone and mortar.

"Son of a Sanction whore..." Dalamar murmured in unadulterated shock, unable to form a more coherent response.

Mönkhbold, on the other hand, had broken into laughter and was pointing up at his triumphant friend, who was now apparently confirmed as all of their Ariunkhan.

Rhuadhán, oblivious to (or, more likely, uncaring of) whatever reactions his stunt might be eliciting, continued his celebratory march down the Rainbow Bridge, allowing himself an extended drum and guitar intro before continuing his singing.

"And here I am,
I'm the Prince of the universe.
Here I belong,
Fighting for survival.
I've come to be the ruler of your world!"

"March" was apparently not the correct term for Rhuadhan's descent. Dalamar could just make out that his shalafi was dancing his way down the Bifrost. And tiny flashes of sparks could be seen coming from his hands as he apparently used magic to improvise the sacred staff in his hands as a guitar.

Even the wolves who couldn't speak English could discern the obvious that Nominchono was returning in success. And while they didn't want to tell the Ariunkhan how to conduct what was indeed a celebratory moment, there was the concern of others hearing this exceedingly loud performance he was putting on. Batzorig issued a few quick commands to Chuluukhüü, and the younger High Priest went darting down the path away from the summit to intercept any guards who might hear echoes of the music and come investigating.

"I am immortal!
I have inside me blood of gods!
I have no rival.
No man can be my equal.
Take me to the future of your world..."

The sound illusions suddenly cut off, Rhuadhán activating his Time magic to zip forward across more than half the distance of the Bifrost. A massive bolt of lightning came crashing down, missing its mark entirely. Hardly missing a beat in the wake of what Dalamar could only assume was some sort of expression of divine disapproval of his little show, and seemingly shrugging off the crack of thunder produced by the lightning that had to be near deafening from striking so close, the Master of Magic dropped his Time magic and continued down the Bifrost at a near run, resuming singing and projecting the base musical accompaniments.

"Born to be king
Prince of the Universe
Fighting and free.
Got your world in my hand.
I'm here for your love and I'll make my stand!
I was born to be Prince of the Universe!"

As Rhuadhan whipped around to briefly run backwards and point up at the summit of Kangri Rinpoche, he was finally close enough for the dark elf to make out that three things had changed in the brief time he had been gone.

"Old Man can't understand-
My power is in my own hand."

The first and most obvious was that when he turned, a massive maroon cloth sack with rope straps could be seen hanging against his back.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh..."

The second was that as Rhuadhán's long braid lashed out with the swift movements and sunlight glinted off it, it could be seen that the scarlet locks now had shocks of pure white hair laced through them...

"...People talk about you.
People say you've had your day..."

And as he turned back around to dash down the remaining length of the Rainbow Bridge and Dalamar's gaze went over him in search of other changes, he realized that his master's skin had an all too familiar golden hue to it, and this time it wasn't a temporary effect caused by reflecting an aura of magic that was about to transport him on the wings of magic.

"I'm a man that will go far.
Fly to the moon and reach for the stars,
With my staff and head held high,
Gods I passed the Test- first time!

I know that people talk about me.
I hear it every day,
But I can prove you wrong
'Cause I'm right first time!"

Rhuadhán reached the end of the Rainbow Bridge as he was doing an extended guitar solo and, seeing the aghast look on his mentor's face, broke into laughter as agile fingers finished out the score. A laugh that sounded both ecstatic and not entirely sane.

"I swear to The Three," Dalamar said as the music faded out and he eyed his master warily, "you had better have the Vajra in that sack, or I'm going back to my retirement."

Rhuadhán laughed again and muttered a few words in Sihir, dismissing the flow of magic he was fueling his prolonged sound spells with. "Is that so, Magie? I think you'd last about three days, and then your incessant need to fuss over my training would become too much to ignore and you'd come out of retirement a second time."

Dalamar was cut off from saying anything else because Rhuadhán had turned away and was now accepting ritual phrases of congratulations and fealty from the wolves, and some minor chastisement from Batzorig for being as loud as he had been. Unlike when the dark elf chastised him, Rhuadhán offered back an apology to the Alpha High Priest of the Dark God, citing his overwhelming joy at his success that needed to be expressed lest it burst out of him in some other way. And with a few more exchanges between the two, there wasn't the least amount of hard feelings to be found for Rhuadhán potentially placing the security of their mission in jeopardy. Because no matter what life he was living, the Master of Magic had a peculiar knack for saying just the right things to elicit the responses he wanted from those around him when he was in the mood to be manipulative.

Rhuadhán turned back to Magie after speaking with the wolves and said, "For the love of my patrons, can we please get my feet cleaned and wrapped before we try legging it out of here?"

Dalamar nodded to that and gestured to a boulder for his master to sit on, reaching into the supply bag for Lemuel's ointment. As he limped over, Rhuadhán asked Batzorig and the others to keep a watch further down with Chuluukhüü. When the wolves were out of hearing range, Dalamar glanced his master over again and, noting the unsettling changes, asked as he cast cantrips to clean the soles of his feet, "What happened up there with Majere?"

Rhuadhán flinched as his mentor began to apply the salve with deft, if not entirely gentle, motions. "My oh so benevolent progenitor was being his usual self- a sulking sore loser. The monk challenged me to one last test, and I passed it. He handed over my prize and then evicted me back onto the mountain."

"So you did get the Vajra?" Dalamar asked with relief. "Why the sack? Is the staff in some sort of containment device to keep its power from being noticed?"

Despite his exhaustion and pain, Rhuadhán's face lit up and he unslung the bag, pulling it into his lap. He said with almost childlike glee, momentarily seeming like his incarnation's current age, rather than an archmage of almost countless millennia of existence, "I'll give you another guess at it before showing you."

Dalamar put Lemuel's ointment back in the supply bag and pulled the bandages out. "It's not in containment?" He glanced up at his master, who shook his head to the negative, then turned his gaze back to his work. Unable to sense any magic from the bag, he asked, "Did Majere snap it into pieces and you're going to have to put it back together?"

"Another miss," Rhuadhán said, still grinning. "I'll give you a hint- the arguments you, Lemuel, father, and Master Horton had over the translations of its name are now all the more hilarious because you were all right, but you were also so very, very wrong."

Dalamar paused what he was doing, looking up at his master in confusion. "We were all correct?" Rhuadhán nodded again, and he looked like he was trying very hard not to jitter with excitement as he drew out giving an explanation, which was highly unlike him. His gaze swept over the bag in his master's lap, actively trying to sense out magic, but he still couldn't sense the smallest trace of anything. Dark gaze turned back up, and he asked warily, "How is the Vajra a 'diamond vessel', 'diamond vehicle', 'lightning vessel', and 'lightning vehicle'? Just what sort of staff is it? I'm guessing that bag itself is what is blocking its magical signature to avoid attention being drawn?"

Rhuadhán's grin grew and he gestured for Magie to lean in. "A quick glance will answer that question, but we have to be quick because I don't want the cold air to get into the bag."

Dalamar sighed and leaned forward, having the momentary thought that his master could very well be playing some trick on him.

The bag's ties were pulled loose, and Rhuadhán tilted the opening enough for his mentor to see the tops of what lay inside.

And the dark Silvanesti elf felt like his blood was suddenly transmuted into ice water as he saw the contents, going stiff with instinctual terror that was born of experiences that were even older than those that caused his fear of his Shalafi. They were not quite like others he had seen, perhaps owing to some evolution over the eons, but there was still no mistaking what they were. Dark eyes went from the bag, which was being swiftly closed again, to said master. "Do you realize exactly what those are?!"

Rhuadhán's grin shifted to a sardonic smirk, golden tinted lips pulling in an all too familiar way, and he said with anticipation, "They're one of the five primal elements given form. And I am going to find the other four, take control of them with the help of the diamond staff, then sweep over our enemies with the full wrath of nature and neutrality to obliterate them from this world. And when that scourge is gone, my bride and I will have a fleet of mounts fit for gods among mortals, our offspring, and our favored entourage." He nudged his big toe against his mentor's hand and said with a hint of impatience, "Get my feet wrapped proper so I don't end up with an infection or crippled before we can reach the horses, and I'll let you have first pick of which element to command."

While his Shalafi clearly felt that was gracious incentive and reward, his lack of certain memories meant that he couldn't know his offer had the polar opposite effect. Dalamar was unwilling, and in some ways, unable, to give an honest response to his master at this time. So he said quietly, in as stoic a voice as could be managed, "Thank you, Master, for the honor," and then went back to wrapping Rhuadhán's injuries so they could begin the arduous trek back to where they'd be spending the winter months. The dark elf could tell his master was giving him a questioning look, but he ignored the silent inquiry; and Rhuadhán blessedly decided to not pursue questioning his reaction, sparing him the need to actively lie to his Shalafi.

Not for the first time, nor likely would it be the last, the dark elf hoped The Three knew what they were doing. Putting so much power at the Master of Magic and Time's disposal... with his plans for ascension to be potentially fulfilled... and with his master still not being himself... and even when Raistlin was whole again, with him having the temperament and morality he had...

The Three were playing a very dangerous game right now, and Dalamar could only hope this didn't blow up in all of their faces.

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A/N: heya folks. I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get it out. I was having an insanely hard time getting the tones of conversation between Majere and Rhuadhán the way I wanted, and I was unwilling to put this out until I was reasonably satisfied with the quality. It's gone through several rewrites and edits, but I'm finally satisfied.

I'm sure there's questions about what I've thrown at you this chapter, but I also dropped hints in the last installment that this was how I interpreted why Raist had the crazy power level he had, why there's canonical similarities between him and the deity his family is named for, and why he was able to even try for godhood in Legends. More of my interpretation will unfold as the series progresses.

But for now, we're moving along to other characters, as this is the last Rhuadhán chapter until the end of the installment. I hope you enjoyed this extended prologue of what's been going on with this half of the equation, and will enjoy getting back to Ria, Raist, and the rest of their crew. I make no promise on when the next chapter will be out as I've been shit at keeping those the last few chapters, but it shouldn't take a month because I'm excited for the next chapters and have them clearly outlined already.