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Part 46 – The Final Countdown!
Nima awoke with a gasp. Her heart was racing and her face was hot. Had that been real? Had she really tried to... to... KISS HIM? Had she? Had she? And what about him? He had wanted it? Or not? Or...? Her thoughts were far from coherent. She spent some silent minutes studying the strange feelings the dream had caused. That HE had caused. There was a lump in her throat. And with it came a faint feeling of disappointment that the dream had stopped there.
All in all, it didn't make sense. She had no clue what this all was about. Love? Passion? Curiosity? Still, a bond had formed between them. It went deeper then everything she had ever experienced before. Undeniably a bond... between their hearts?
"Girl, you have a serious problem!" her mouth said aloud. "A very serious problem- Oh, shut up mouth!"
Great, now she became insane, talking to herself and such things. Stupid, stupid mage! Being body switched, feeling mind-switched, maybe heart-switched and now even her mouth was against her.
Eventually, she lost her patience. Too complicated. The whole matter was just far too complicated. It was unsolvable. Unsolvable problems demanded a special treat. The best course of action was usually provided by a proper meal. Food always helped in cases of emotional disturbance. The second best alternative was sleep. Sleeping didn't solve problems, but it gave you a break, at least for a while. After a brief discussion between stomach and brain, Nima decided to try both methods. In a proper order of course. She dressed quickly, snuck into the kitchen and raided the pantry. Several big pieces of bread and butter later, she felt a lot better. According to plan, she went back to sleep afterwards. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
A couple of doves huddled on her windowframe and cooed. They produced enough noise to make even a tired kender girl set up and curse.
"Damn birds! I should sacrifice you in a godsforsaken bloody ritual! Hey, why did I say that? No, no, I won't be confused again! I refuse to be confused, did you get that, morning?" she explained to the innocent, bright day. The day surely deserved a scolding, it was much too early anyway.
During breakfast, Nima was still deep in thoughts. Absent-minded, she devoured two bowls of Otik's beans without even noticing their exquisite taste, pondering the events of her recent dream-meeting. Thus, she nearly missed Tika shouting at Caramon for having left a mess in the pantry last night. She also barely said anything to Dalamar. Fortunately, the elf was busy himself, memorizing a scroll. He seemed not unhappy at being left on his own.
Finally, Nima dumped the spoon into her empty bowl and stood up. She had a plan! She would go and solve a secret now! And proceed in her scheme to improve Raistlin's life! Whether he liked it or not! She would have a talk with Miranda! And then she would have a talk with Raistlin, about politeness and manners and right behavior! And his selfrighteous attitude! Yes, he never dare to mess around with Nima Teketoll anymore! At least her thoughts and her determination were still her own.
"Yes! I'm going!" she exclaimed.
Dalamar looked up from his scroll in irritation, looking at Raistlin. "Shalafi? Don't leave your..." The mage had left the room before Dalamar could even finish his sentence. "...staff." Dalamar shrugged. Maybe it was better that way. He eyed the Staff of Magius more closely. It leaned against the wall behind Raistlin's chair. Without his magical abilities would Raistlin still assume the title Archmage? He was barely a mage now. Wasn't it dangerous to leave such a valuable artifact in his hands? Maybe somebody had to take care that the Order of Blackrobes didn't lose resources just because their most powerful member had turned insane all of a sudden? Just in case that his Shalafi never regained his mental abilities who would be his rightful heir? Suddenly, Dalamar found himself smiling.
Somewhere else, Raistlin sat at the breakfast table, ignoring the fruits and bread rolls right in front of him. He felt sober, as if he had been dumped into a watering through. The situation with the kender was alarming. The things that had happened, or rather that nearly had happened, could not be ignored any longer. Whatever the situation was, he had lost control over it. A rather disturbing if not terrifying thought. Maybe it was all due to the fact that the physical distance between them lessened each moment. And what if not? As long as the situation was this incalculable, it mustn't happen again. Luckily they would reach Solace this afternoon. Raistlin swore silently to himself that he wouldn't sleep again until the problem with Nima was solved in one way or the other. And not just because she was messing around with his emotions and his mind. She was also about to mess up his life! Gossiping with Miranda, how impertinent! Next time she would talk to Par Salian, telling him she was "Raistlin the white mage, defender of the innocent!" In the name of Thakisis, even thinking about her made him angry. This time, Raistlin noticed his emotional turmoil just in time and cut that line off. No, he wouldn't allow his emotions to rule his mind. He was a professional. It wouldn't be long any more. And soon, very soon, he would have a word with the Kender about certain things. About politeness. And manners. And right behavior. And her self-righteous attitude! He sighed. At least his thoughts still belonged to him.
The sun was about to set behind the hills, caressing the treetops and the peaceful houses of Solace with soft reddish beams, when a convoy of several wagons rolled into the vale and followed the road far below the houses and bridges. The track stopped at a large meadow close to the fair.
As soon as the gypsies began to erect their camp, Raistlin used the first opportunity to slip away. His stomach tingled. He was so close now. He carried the half of the crystal tightly in his fist. Raistlin was not utterly sure why he held it the whole time but it seemed the right thing to do. His hand prickled as though the stone were lightly pulsating against his palm. As if it could feel that a climax in one or the other way was about. His soft kender features showed grim determination when Raistlin climbed up a latter that lead to the inner city and thus, to the Inn of Last Home. He wasn't the only one, however who stole away from the group. Raistlin never saw the watchful and sorrowful eyes that followed him. Carefully, silently, but no less resolute, Tiomar, the half-ork ranger, had set himself on his track. He also missed Naranja who had chosen the same path a few minutes before him. Naranja herself didn't notice the little gnomish shadow that darted from cover to cover behind her.
Naranja hurrried along a huge bridge that let to a shop with herbs. Her mother had been to Solace before, she knew an excellent herbalist whose range of goods was very popular in the area. Toronja had sent her daughter to get some healing herbs before the shop closed. The fair began tomorrow and therefore she wanted to be prepared for every possible accident or hurt. The sun was about to set, the shopkeepers had all begun to put their wares away. Naranja made a run for the store and hastily yanked the door open. The shopkeeper a friendly old woman looked at her questioningly, she mumbled an excuse and quickly turned to a shelf were she hoped to find packs of grimmroot and bundles of Mishakal's blessing.
Her eyes fixes on the content of the shelves, she turned around a corner and bumped into someone. The stranger wore soft clothes, a coat of black velvet. When Naranja pulled away, she realized it was not a coat but a robe. And the handsome, young man wearing it was no human. Mesmerizing elven eyes looked at her in slight surprise. They had the silvery color of the full moon in a sweet summer night. A mage. An elven mage. And he happened to be the most striking man she had ever met in her whole life. Slowly he raised a delicate eyebrow.
Suddenly, Naranja felt as if she had been dowsed with a bucket of icy water. How stupid she must look, staring at him like this. Eventually, she shut her mouth and got a hold on herself. She couldn't hinder the inevitable blushing but at least she could try to look more confident.
"I'm sorry, Sir." she stuttered less eloquent then she was normally. "I didn't know you were there." As soon as the words had left her lips she wished for a hole in the ground to devour her. Of course she hadn't seen him coming, otherwise she wouldn't have run into him. Now he probably thought that she was a bit dull. His eyes were not unfriendly however. A polite, noncommittal smile crossed his lips briefly.
"You're in the wrong section, I suppose." he said. His dark, vibrating voice sent shivers along her spine. Suddenly she knew why Elves were always described as enchanting in songs and tales. They definitely were. It was no exaggeration. Fair skin and raven hair; he looked so fine in black that it seemed as though the color had been invented just for him.
"Wrong section?" she asked like a confused child.
"These are spellcomponents and ritual paraphernalia. Love-potions and spices are on that shelf I believe."
The blush became a shade darker.
"I'm not- I wasn't looking for love potions... I- I-... healing herbs..." She finally managed to bring out.
"Ah. Over there." he gestured vaguely in one direction.
"Thank you, Sir." For the gods know what reason, she curtsied and fled to the shelves he had pointed at. He nodded and turned away from her as if he had forgotten her already. If she had made any impression on him it was surely not the best one. Still she couldn't help but glancing secretly at him over and over.
Her face still burned and her heart raced as if she had just run a mile. Her last Tarokka-session came to mind. She remembered her own words. 'A mage, he may be evil at first...' Gods, it was probably him! It must be him. For what other reason was a blackrobe, an elf, here in Solace, far away from his order and his people, hanging around in a little herbal shop? Maybe the fates had chosen for them to met. Her heart pounded even louder at the thought.
'Oh, in the name of Branchala , I think I'm in love. I just fell in love...'
Meanwhile he had chosen some objects, paid them and left. On his way out he passed her by between the narrow shelves. Again, the soft velvet brushed against her skin for a second, then he was gone. He hadn't whispered a goodbye, he hadn't even spared her a second glance. She stood there, rooted in her place, staring at the closing door, until she noticed the reproving gaze of the shopkeeper. The owner was about to close down the shop for today, she was the last customer. Hurriedly Naranja made her purchase. Just when she thought that her disgrace couldn't become anymore shameful, the shopkeeper grinned.
"He's quite a handsome fellow, right? But be careful dear, these men like him, the servants of Nuitari, they are not for you to keep company with."
Naranja
did not respond to this. The shopkeeper was probably right about him
being dangerous, nevertheless she already ached for another look on
him. The feeling had come down on her with full force. She had always
believed in love at first sight. All of a sudden it had happened,
time and space were still the same, but she wasn't. The old lady
sighed.
"Girls," she said as if reading Naranja's mind.
The gypsy bid the shopkeeper goodbye and left. When she was out on the street again, the mage was gone. Naranja suppressed a sigh. Suddenly somebody tugged on her skirt. It was Knoblar.
"Hey you. What are you looking for? Don't tell me it's that girly elf that passed along a minute ago!"
Today,
everybody seemed to be reading her thoughts.
"I have absolutely
no idea what you're talking about!" Naranja snapped and crossed her
arms. Knoblar chuckled demonstratively.
"Maybe Nima knows. Look, here she comes and is going in the same direction as the elf. Maybe she's after him too. Girls are all the same. But what will Tasslehoff say, when he hears that? NIMA!HEYNIMAWEAREHERE!" Knoblar jumped and waved with his arm. Nima stopped dead in her tracks. She had passed by on another bridge only a few metres away. Now she turned around.
"Are you following me?" she asked aggressively.
"No, but you won't believe whom we saw!" Knoblar chirped, ignoring both Naranja's and Nima's annoyed looks. "An elf. And he was a mage! And he is from the dark side of the camel's ass if you know what I mean. That's strange. I never knew elves were into that black magic stuff. And Naranja likes him. Hey! Don't slap me Naranja! You see, Nima, she's angry. I'm right. Naranjahasaboyfriend! Naranjahasaboyfried! Naranja-"
"SHUT UP!" both girls cried at the same time. Nima's eyes narrowed.
"An elf you say? Blackrobe? Where did he go?"
Naranja watched her friend suspiciously.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Maybebecauseshelikeshimtoo-"
"Shut up, Gnome!"
"Because that sounds interesting. He may- no, it doesn't matter anyway." Nima waved her hand dismissingly and went on without another comment. Knoblar tucked at Naranjas sleeve again.
"Wannafollowher?" he asked the girl. "I bet she knows where he is going. She looked like she knows him."
Naranja frowned. Once again her friend's behavior was strange and utterly wrong. She made a decision.
"We
better follow her, I have the feeling she may get herself into
trouble."
"You are not the only one," a dark voice said
behind her. It was Tiomar. Somehow the half-ork had stepped behind
them without a sound. She envied his ability to move in such silence
and stealth. "I followed her from the camp. She definitely is up to
something and from her expression I doubt that it is something
amusing. So I decided I'd better keep an eye on her. Maybe on all the
three of you. Now. Go." With that he shoved them
forward towards the bridge Nima had taken. No one complained.
Nima strolled homewards. She had spent a very agreeable afternoon with Lady Miranda. Miranda had served tea and fresh cookies. Miranda was a very cheerful and likeable person, Nima could absolutely not understand why Raistlin would hate her so much. She had several children, her house was well kept and the silverware... With a dreamy look on her face she pulled a fine silver spoon from her pocket. It had somehow gotten there during the tea. She decided to give it back the next time. The spoon wandered into her pocket again... yup. The silverware was great. Miranda's family had always dealt in cloth, she and her husband had now taken over business and they were respectable people. And besides, people who cooked that well couldn't be mean or evil. Nima grinned when she remembered the talk they've had. Miranda had told her something of the past, told her some stories about Raistlin and Caramon and herself... someday she would share her knowledge with Raistlin. He surely had gotten some things wrong in the past. Nima pondered the mage's reaction and the image of his angry expression made her chuckle.
"Yeah, Raistlin, revenge is sweet. And I'll teach you a lesson..."
Humming a happy tune, she
approached the Inn of last Home. A few early customers occupied
several tables but the usual evening rush had not started yet. Still
in the realms of music, Nima whistled a melodious ballad and sat down
at a table next to the bar. Caramon was there, brooming the floor.
They smiled at each other and Caramon asked where his brother had
spent the afternoon. Nima opened her mouth to explain when all of a
sudden the door blew up and a tiny figure appeared. A kender. With a
happy squeal the new little customer ran up to Caramon and threw
himself into the arms of the big warrior. Likeweise, Dalamar stepped
in, through the open door. He closed it and watched the scene, a hint
of curiosity glimmering in his calm eyes. Slowly he approached them.
Caramon caught his small 'attacker' and held him away in
disbelief.
"Tasselhoff, what are you doing here?"
"Hullo Caramon. I was around and I thought I stop by- oh Raistlin's here too!"
The newcomer looked at Nima. She stared back, with big eyes and a wide grin.
"Kender!", she cried in utter happiness.
"Human!", Tasselhoff answered adopting her state of hysteria.
Caramon let of of Tasselhoff giving Nima and Tasselhoff the chance to fall into each others arms hugging the other for a while. Eventually they parted, faces flushed and excited.
"I'm so glad to see a kender, finally. You can't imagine, you're the first one in eons! Wanna drink a beer with me?"
Tasselhoff nodded.
Yeah, of course, Raistlin. I've never expected you'd miss me that much."
"Oh I haven't. I don't even know who you are."
"That is strange."
"No, its an- how did you call it Dalamar?- Wait, I have it. Amnesia! That's it."
"What does that mean?" Tasselhoff asked, wondering.
"No memory." Nima explained proudly. "All gone."
They sat down at Nima's table.
"Oh." Her new friend gave her irritated looks. "That's bad."
Nima shrugged.
"Its nothing. From what they told me about my past, it could be worse."
Tasselhoff grinned.
"Maybe you're right. You're more nice now", he stated the truth.
"I've always been a kind soul. Or better a kender soul? Yes, deep inside I've got a kender's soul." Nima chuckled about her own joke. Until, all of the sudden she jumped on her feet."Wait, I promised you a beer. I get one." Without hesitation she scampered into the Kitchen. They could hear her calling Dezra.
"Dezra, honey, I've got a guest, we need some beer..."
For the first time without having drunk before, Caramon needed to lean against the bar. The insanity had reached new heights. It was like a strange dream, or a beer-induced fantasy.
"Dalamar. Magus...", he whispered nearly voiceless and utterly bewildered, "did- did, I just get that right? Did Raistlin just pick Tasselhoff's pocket?"
"You are right.", Dalamar whispered back through clenched teeth. "It's incredible. Thieving from a kender, flirting with the maid..."
At this moment Nima was back, carrying two big tankards of beer. She set one down in front of Tasselhoff and took the second for herself.
"Ok. First things first." she said, sitting down again. "Proper introduction. You are...?"
"You really don't know? Oh well, I'm Tasselhof Burrfoot from Kendermore and-"
"Burrfoot? Wait! Are you from the Whistlewind side of the family or are you related to the Idlemind-clan?"
"No, the Idleminds don't come from Kendermore."
"Right. Sorry. I forgot."
"Its the Burrfoot family that is related to Tabbock Quickhand, you know he was a nephew of Uncle Trapspringer and my mother she is the daughter of a niece of..."
They were lost in a conversation about complicated family relations, leaving Caramon and Dalamar to shake their heads in disbelief.
"I never realized he knew so much about kender," Caramon said.
"That is indeed a strange phenomenon."
Nima and Tasselhoff were oblivious to the conversation next to them. They had started playing a game called "What do I have in my hand?" with each demonstrating to the other that he had more strange and even sillier things in his pockets. They laughed, chattered and drank Otik's tasty brew much too quickly. Just a few minutes later their mugs were nearly empty. A very specific blush on her golden features indicated that Nima was already suffering from the effects of the drink.
"Oh my gosh," she stated. "I have this funny feeling inside my head..."
Tasselhoff eyed the mug
and laughed. A bit too loud. He was also befuddled.
"Raistlin,
you have the stamina of an underfed sparrow."
"I- I'm not-" Nima sputtered confused. "Sparrows can have a lot of stamina! A lot of it!"
She hit the table and stood up. "And you shouldn't be so mean and judge people only by their appearance. Looks can be deceiving, you know. Very deceiving, I know what I'm talking about, man. I do have-"
Tasselhoff climbed on the table and patted Nima's shoulder.
"I didn't judge you by your looks but by your poor tolerance for alcoholic substances." he explained.
"Oh."
Nima sat down again.
Dalamar rolled his eyes.
"I know where is is going," he muttered to himself, "I've seen this before."
When he moved to prevent his Shalafi from starting any trouble, Caramon was already there, taking the mug from the golden mage's hand.
"Raistlin, I know that this sounds strange coming from me, but you should be careful with drinking. Too much beer and wine is not good for you."
"No." Of course Nima didn't agree. "The last time I drank much more and I was feeling so funny, however I can't recall what was happening later. But Damalar knows. Hey Dally, tell us what did happen then?"
"Which part do you mean?" Dalamar gave back coldly. "The part when I hauled you towards you room, or the part when you stumbled against me or do you mean that part when you invited some poor souls to a tea and cookie party in the, let me cite it, 'terrible tower of doom and despair' because of you depression? Though it was rather 'debresshon' at that time."
"I had every reason to be depressed!" Nima defended herself. "I saw a lot of things that were terrible and frightful and very annoying, just like-"
At that moment the door
rushed open a second time, revealing yet another kender. A young
kendergirl stood in the doorway, her delicate features turned to an
angry scowl.
"YOU!" the girl cried at Nima with a mixture of
anger and satisfaction. "Finally, we meet!"
TBC