A/N:Childlike Empress: Thanks for the flattery. Im not surewhat was meant by your last statement. Looks like part of the review was deleted. Can you tell me the suggestion vial email?

Singvogel: Yeah,I guess they have. They even have halloween...

Dally: No this weren't the bunnies, this were some technocratic gremlins...

Lady Valura: This is all part of the change he has to undergo to fit in this romance but I loved writing these introspections all the same.

Guan: I always had the feeling that Raistklin's sickness feeds a good deal from his mental stress and his unwillingness to care about himself.

Chickens: If you like it angsty, you'll probaly going to love the next few chapters...

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You might notice that the pronoun "they" is sometimes written in italics in this chapter. I chose this method to indicate when "they" is used as a proper noun. When it functions as a normal pronoun, the spelling is average. Let's just say, it is a stylistic experiment. Let me know if you don't feel comfortable with it. Then, I'll look for another solution.

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Chapter 35 - Sick and Tired

"The house of Raistlin's soul was far different. The door was kept barred, opened only a crack to visitors, and then only a few were permitted to cross the threshold. Once there, they were not allowed to come much farther. His windows were shut and shuttered. Here and there a candle gleamed, a warm spot in the darkness. His house was filled with furniture and objects strange and wonderful, but it was not messy or cluttered. He could instantly lay his hand on whatever was needed. Visitors could not find his corners, much less pry into them. Small wonder they never liked to stay long, were reluctant to return." (From: "The Soulforge"; Wizards of the Coast 2003, p. 238)

He lay in a bed in a dark room. Something about this room was familiar. The smell... he was back in Solace in his old room. Raistlin shivered under his blanket, freezing. His head hurt and he could hear the pulsating sound of his blood rushing through his veins. He knew he was ill. Sick. Weak. Defeated. His mind was confused. Why was he in Solace? Had he gotten the plague? He felt the exhausting heat of fever behind his forehead. What had happened last? How had he gotten here? His fingers clutched the blanket. It was thin, much too thin. He huddled against it, his limbs trembling in the cold dark atmosphere of the chamber. The windows were closed, shutting the light out. No beam of light permeated the darkness. No sound penetrated the silence save for his own ragged breathing. It was dark and quiet. The quietness of a grave. He wondered where Caramon had gone. If he was back in Solace, surely his twin was around somewhere. Yet there was nothing. Nobody came; had they forgotten about him? Of course, nobody had ever cared for Raistlin Majere. If Caramon was not here, who should?

He was in a dark place, weak and vulnerable with no means to cure himself. Panic began to swell up and for once Raistlin Majere longed for some company. Someone to tell him what was going on. He tried to call. Somebody had to be here.

Then, to his horror he realized that he couldn't speak. His chest was in pain again, an invisible pressure had settled right above him and squashed his lungs slowly, agonizingly. He knew it was useless to try to scream, he wouldn't be heard. This was not the Solace of his childhood. It was the Other Solace. The dark place that had so often haunted him during the nights.

Raistlin knew what would happen next when he heard the sound of something moving outside the window shutters. Something was there, outside, and it was not anybody who would help him. He knew he was alone. Alone with the lurking beings outside...

They had come for him earlier. And even now that he was not a boy anymore, they finally saw another chance to get him. In the darkness he could clearly hear the grating sound of a shutter opening slowly. They were already coming in. Who they were, he didn't know. Only that they came after him. They came with the darkness in the night and they were after him...

The unseen pressure above him was still there, it stole his breath and forced him to lay unmoving. There was nothing he could do, not even run. The pain in his chest grew even worse until he reached the point when it felt like suffocating. He couldn't even twitch a muscle to ease the pain, or fight, or do something. All he was allowed to do was to lay there and listen for them approach. They made soft slurping and clicking sounds when they came. Like a thousand little sharp claws flitting over the floor.

"Click. Click. Click."

They were near now, too near.

Raistlin knew he was dreaming but he couldn't wake up. Where was Caramon? His strong twin had to wake him up. He was always the one to wake him up and free him from their influence. 'Brother, where are you?'

They had reached the bed now, he was still fixed to the mattress. The feeling of utter panic they caused was overwhelming. They encircled the bed, gathering under it. Right under him. Soft scratches on wood.

"Click. Click. Click."

Why was he always left alone with them? One by one the creatures began to climb out of the darkness, up the wooden frame. He would have trashed about and screamed but he was still paralyzed, a frozen statue. He felt their unseen presence when they had reached the pillow. Tears of pure desperation welled up in eyes. They would devour him, feeding on his pain and agony and this time, nobody was there to wake him up, to show him shadow bunnies on the wall...

"Click. Click. Click."

"They mustn't reach me, they mustn't reach me..."

So near! They were so near already, creeping over the rustling pillow. He could almost feel their chilling, agonizing touch on his cheek, and that shook his very soul to the core. No hope. He was alone.

All of a sudden there were steps outside and somebody knocked on the door. A hope? The scene froze and the beings halted, disturbed. He wanted to shout at whomever was outside to come in, to be with him, but no word came over his lips. Only few metres and a door. Only few metres and still worlds apart. He was isolated from the outside by darkness and shadows. Shadows filling his room, shadows, pressing his lung, shadows enchaining him... He could do nothing to make himself known. And his tormenters knew it. And then, they moved again. He was already beyond panic, awaiting their touch...

When a light voice yelled: "Who ever's in there, I'm coming!"

A lock turned and the door opened.

Suddenly a beam of light fell into the chamber chasing them away. They fled instantly, crawled back into the shadowy chasms they had arisen from, without a trace. Instantly, the pressing weight was gone from Raistlin's chest and he sat up slowly, while a familiar kender girl stepped near with a curious expression.

"Hullo, Raistlin!" she chirped. "Thought I'd find you somewhere around. Man, don't wanna be impolite, but you look terrible. Are you sick? Do you know what this strange house is? There are so many rooms and they are all dusky. And then I went up some stairs and I was here, on this floor, and when I looked back, the stairs were gone. Really gone. I think the house is moving or something. And then, there was the door to this room and I just had to open it. I hope I didn't disturb you. Oh man, you're REALLY HOT! You have FEVER!" she eventually exclaimed.

During her tirade she had sat down next to him putting her hand on his forehead. She behaved like it was completely normal to touch him like this, in a familiar, almost intimate way. He knew kender tended to take a lot for granted, but this went a bit too far. The girl had not even hesitated for a second and taken advantage of his current befuddlement. On the other hand, he couldn't explain to himself why he had even allowed her to do so. He could have pushed her away again. It would have been easy. Nonetheless, he did nothing to stop her. For a strange reason her presence was oddly consoling and it kept them at bay. This time her touch was different. Although it caused another prickle to run down his spine, it was soft and soothing rather then irritating.

"Wow, you really have fever and you know what? I have a headache too, and I feel a little dizzy like I'm walking on wool. But this time I didn't drink! I swear! Wait, I have an idea! You lie down again and I'll look for more blankets and try to get some water or something. I'm thirsty too. And it is cold here. There should be a kitchen somewhere..."

"Wait!"

The thought of being left alone again was less then tempting. She hesitated.

"I'll come with you. You don't know your way around here." Raistlin decided and sat up.

"No, no. You must lie down and rest."

Nima tried to push him back onto the bed in a motherly way, but her own condition seemed to be strained at the moment. At the abrupt movement her dizziness increased and the room spun around her. All of a sudden, Nima's legs gave way under her and she ended up clumsily staggering forward, practically falling into Raistlin's arms. She clutched his shoulders in a reflex, searching for a hold. Too late she realized what was happening. Mage and kender were suddenly caught in an involuntary embrace. For a moment they stared at each other confused and slightly abashed. For a heartbeat the world stopped turning...

Until Raistlin shoved the girl away. While holding her he had noticed that her skin was not quite as cool as it should be. Her eyes were unnaturally wide, cold sweat glistened on her forehead and she panted slightly as if from exertion. It seemed he was not the only one being sick. The kender of course had not realized it.

"Where are we?" Nima asked into the silence. She tried to distract herself from a strange feeling that had overcome her. It had manifested as an odd flutter in her stomach. As if she was hungry. But not too hungry. If somebody had offered her food in this moment she would have not been able to eat anything, she realized. How strange and now she was nervous, too. Was this a reaction to the warm comforting feel of his arms around her? 'Never mind', she commanded herself and focused on the original question again.

"We're not in the Globule-world anymore."

"No" he answered and after a while added "We're on the Other Side"

"Ha?"

"A dark place. It is empty. Bereft of life. It is like the world you know and it is different. It's an evil place with shadows lurking in each dusky corner. I used to call this place 'the Other Side'. Every child knows it from their most feared dreams. I've been here often in my youth. I tried to tell Caramon about it, but of course he never understood the terror it holds for those doomed to walk its paths each night."

She apparently had also trouble with understanding.

"Is it another err... How do you say?... realm... like the dreamlands?"

He sighed softly.

"Yes and no. It is in many respects a world of its own. But in contrast to the dreamlands it is purely inside the mind. When I was young I believed it to be real, later I learned that it mainly consists of the facts we cannot face at day. It is the part in ourselves that is hidden by daylight and only revealed in darkness. Later I learned that I didn't have to be afraid of the darkness, and the Other Side gradually lost its hold on me. Everybody has his own Other Side."

He gave her an estimating look.

"Everybody besides a kender I suppose."

"But now it has come back to you." she pondered with an unexpected amount of insight. "Does that mean we're caught in a nightmare of yours or something like that?"

He snickered, a short and dry sound. It sounded harsh, even to himself.

"I couldn't have described it better. That is basically what I've surmised."

TBC