Disclaimer: As I do not yet work for any of the various people involved in making DL a reality, I cannot yet claim ownership to anything you recognize from their work.
A/N: Okay, many announcements. First, I'd like to apologize for the forever wait. Time, inclination and inspiration have had trouble coming together for me. Add to that my muses… (Them: "Ready to write today?" Me: "As ever. Go ahead." Them: "Oh, by the way, some time before the story ends, X has to die." Me: "WHAT! WHY?" Them: "For the sequel." Me: "So, what happens in the sequel?" Them: "Can't tell you!" And so on…) Secondly, I would like to dedicate a couple of paragraphs in the middle of this to some very perverted musicians I had the pleasure of knowing. Star Wars will never be clean again. Next, I need to thank my beta Valgoruth, who helped the many segments I wrote this in form a coherent whole. I also want to thank my reviewers. Though it was a long time coming, never think that your support did nothing. You help me to write when times seem darkest. Lastly – we finally reach the beginning of the Chaos War in this chapter. Kindly remember, this is an alternate universe, so many things are different. I know I changed a lot – tough! Okay, now that that bloody long authors note is done, I present Chapter 12, a.k.a. the "Oh, So That's Why She's Been Using this Song For Chapter Titles Chapter."
And the Pattern Never Alters, Until the Rat Dies
Catherine and Fie exchanged frightened glances as their elders paced through the room restlessly. Nervous of anything that could unnerve two evil mages, they quietly excused themselves from the room. Neither Dalamar nor Raistlin seemed to notice their sudden absence. The teens wandered aimlessly and in silence for a minute, until they arrived at Catherine's room. As they entered, Catherine wondered if it was the Tower who took them to the appropriate places rather than their own subconscious sense of direction.
Still slightly shocked about the explosion, Kit and Fie sat down on the end of the large, black-sheeted bed. For another minute, neither said anything, each immersed in private musings. Finally, Fie broke the silence. "Do you think that the explosion had anything to do with you?"
Catherine looked at her friend as though he had grown a second head. "With me? No, I told you already, I was just sitting there. It was Arash who somehow caused the explosion."
Fie shook his head in frustration. "That isn't what I'd meant. I didn't mean to imply that I thought you caused it directly. I was just thinking about that prophesy that Dalamar told us about. What was it again?"
Catherine thought for a minute. " 'A child of two worlds, a child of one. A child of two faiths, a child of none. The world is torn, as is the soul. One shall shatter, the other be made whole.' It was phrased oddly, but since it was about me supposedly, I remember it. Why?"
"I was just thinking," Fie said slowly, "That if it is about you, that means you're the nexus in a turning point of this world's history. Your being brought here will have set a chain of events in motion, a chain that can only have one of two outcomes; either the world will be destroyed, or you will."
Catherine paled. "I… I guess I hadn't thought about it that way. Do you think that the prophesy will dictate all of my actions, so that I have no free will?" Even Kit herself would admit it: she was scared. Nothing terrified her more than the thought that she was a puppet, rushing towards the ominous edge of a precipice.
Fie answered slowly, sensing her fear. "I do not think so. Otherwise, why would there be two branches to the prophesy?"
Kit was not comforted. "So now I have two choices. That still isn't much like free will. And will I even get to choose? How could anyone choose?" She was considerably upset, with just cause.
"I don't think that there are only two choices," Fie mused. "Only two outcomes. And no, I doubt that you will be able to know which outcome you pick as you are experiencing whatever is going to happen." He gave her a weak smile, showing that he too was disturbed by the thought of prophesy manipulating people's lives.
"This can't end well." Catherine sighed. "In all of the books I've read concerning prophesy, it never ends well. And the prophesy seems much too clear cut to offer any surprise twists." She sat for another second more, and then rose, pacing the room restlessly.
Soon, Fie joined her in pacing, and before they knew it, they were walking out the door. "Where are we go--?" Catherine shook her head. "I really don't like this place sometimes." They did not speak again until they reached the dining hall.
When they reached the medium sized room, they found that Evelynn, as well as the mages, were already there. The three sat around a small table, Raistlin at the head. The teens took the two places set for them, and hesitantly put salad and bread on their plates. Catherine picked up the fork, but only used it to move her food around her plate. Fie didn't fiddle, though he too stared at his plate in silence. In fact, Evelynn was the only one eating, which she was doing with surprising gusto for an ancient elf.
"What is wrong with the lot of you? No wonder you're all so skinny; you don't eat." All four of the others took up their forks, each remembering some awesome personage commanding them to eat. As they chewed, they all looked at each other sheepishly. Raistlin especially looked embarrassed at having been cowed into eating by a demented, half-fossilized elf. He looked meaningfully at Dalamar, who rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.
Evelynn got up, and started walking towards the door, plate in hand. Catherine realized that Dalamar must have set the odd magic of the Tower into motion, and it was calling her away. Frankly, Kit was glad. As much as she liked the formidable elderly lady, she and Fie needed to talk to the mages alone.
Fie broke the uncomfortable silence. "Why do we have so much power?" He was blunt, and Catherine sensed that had the two mages been anyone else, they would've squirmed. As it was, their normally shielded faces closed in even more.
"I'm supposing you mean why do you, being untutored and having diluted blood, have more power than my apprentice, and likely more power than I used to." Raistlin's voice was tart. "Of course, I can't be sure, but I do have a hypothesis."
Catherine wasn't sure, but she could've sworn she heard Dalamar mutter "As always," under his breath. When she looked, he looked as innocent as a dark elven mage ever could, though.
"It is the common theory, or at least it had been, that magic travels through the veins as blood does." Raistlin obviously hadn't heard Dalamar, if he'd indeed said anything. "It is believed that magic is the power of the gods, being channeled through humans. For the most part, the gods know when a mage has reached his or her limit; hence the different ability levels of mages, and even of clerics. Of course, there are always mortal mistakes made, when a mage overreaches his or her power. And, the ones who cannot judge their own abilities are weeded out in the Test, when the gods allow as much power as the mage is willing to accept to flow.
"The most recent belief, when I was last present on this plane, was that those with the affinity for magic were simply those with veins stronger than those of the average mortal; veins strong enough to hold god-power. The stronger the mage is, the stronger their veins are. Of course, the body must fight the destruction of its own organs, so once a mage has reached his or her limit, he or she will usually faint. Over time, mages usually lose strength because their veins have been weakened by the constant flow of magic. Usually, the elderly make up with wisdom what they have lost in stamina.
"How this connects to you, of course, is that I have postulated that the mortals of your world have innately stronger veins than the ones here. I believe that the various god magics that course through the bodies of even those who are not clerics or mages has weakened our veins through time. This has not happened on your world, and therefore you are able to channel more magic than the average Krynnish citizen. The fact that there is less natural magic on your plane of existence would explain why Catherine is so strong. I would not be surprised if her power decreases with time, because she has simply built up a resistance rather than having inherited one." Kit snorted indignantly, but did not otherwise interrupt.
"Naturally, every random human plucked off of your world would not be able to practice magic. It does take a strong will and a flexible set of beliefs. Neither of you would be able to cast so much as a sleep spell if you had the concrete belief that magic was complete fallacy. And, I am sure that there is some genetic factor that has yet to be discovered by modern magic. Therefore, my theory is that because of your naturally stronger veins, some sort of inheritance from Fistandantilus for Fie and Dalamar for Catherine, and your willingness to accept the existence of magic makes you the ideal mages, and more powerful than any that could have ever existed on Krynn." Finished with his technical explanation, Raistlin started to cough violently, and he grabbed at his previously untouched mug of tea.
For a second, Kit and Fie just stared at the golden, former-mage with blank looks as the information sank in. Then, first Kit and then Fie got looks of supreme enlightenment on their faces. Dalamar, who was able to follow Raistlin's convoluted speech from the first, recognized the expression as the same one that had so many times graced his own face when he decoded Raistlin's lectures in his days as an apprentice.
Several months later, the young humans had settled into a pattern at the Tower. For the most part, Fie was over his homesickness, and Catherine had never had any regrets about leaving Earth. Both of the children, Fie especially, were tearing through their lessons in magic with unprecedented speed and ability. Raistlin had already given Fie some of the spellbooks from his youth, and it was common knowledge in the Tower that Fie would be the one to eventually inherit Fistandantilus' books. Despite Catherine's feeling that she would end up being a servant of Lunitari after her test, both teens wore black robes, in recognition of their sponsor. Usually, it was only white robes who were sponsors, but novices bound to mages of other alliances were not unheard of.
Dalamar would gladly have sacrificed his burdens for the academic ones of the children, however. After living alone for the majority of the years after Raistlin had left the Tower, he was having trouble adjusting to having people around, and especially to having his Shalafi back. The only years that had not been spent in solitary study and contemplation had been with an apprentice, and being the Shalafi was quite different than having to bow to one.
Taken as a whole, however, his discomfort at the existence of others in the Tower was the least of his worries. His feelings about said other people were much more disturbing. Dalamar found that he was growing very fond of his daughter, and was not quite sure how to deal with that emotion. Parental love was never a feeling he'd come in contact with at any point in his life. And then, of course, there was always the problem of breaking the news to Jenna. Despite having had several months to mull it over, Dalamar had still not informed her. For that matter, he'd never told Catherine that he had a lover. Though he could think of no distinct reason why not, he was not too sure that either woman's reaction would be positive.
Dalamar and Jenna had been lovers for two years, but they both had their secrets. His having a daughter was one that Dalamar wished to keep for himself. He also did not want to lose Catherine's regard, and he was pretty sure that in her old world, people did not usually have long-term sexual relationships unless they meant to marry.
Dalamar was also worried about the disappearance of the boy, Arash. He had told the Conclave at Wayreth that they needed to be alert and ready, but they did not believe that the disappearance of a boy in a magical Tower could mean anything. Only two things gave Dalamar slight comfort. One fact that Dalamar took solace in was the fact that Palanthas had a standing army of those fool Solamnics, and had since the wars a decade before. The other was that the blathering white robed ancient, Par-Salian, had resigned from the Conclave shortly after Dalamar brought the teens from Earth. He did not deny that his display of anger before that could have been a factor in Par-Salian's decision.
Now, Jenna's father Justarius ruled the Conclave. While the lame human was not as cautious as Dalamar might have liked, he also wasn't as much of a pacifist as Solinari's geezer. However, Justarius still insisted on ignoring all of Dalamar's warnings.
Suddenly, Dalamar's early-morning contemplation in front of the window in his room was broken by noise from the city below. His far-seeing eyes turned from the oblivion of the sky to the populous so many feet down. For an instant, he had a feeling of vertigo and saw the spiked gate rushing up towards him, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. As Dalamar focused his gaze on Palanthas, his heart leapt into his throat once more, but for a very different reason.
Bertrem hurried into his master's study, barely pausing after he knocked.
"Yes, Bertrem?" Astinus' voice was as calm as ever, as though he didn't hear the screams of the populous outside.
"Sir, the city…" The pudgy Aesthetic was panting from exhaustion and terror. "Attacking… Monsters…" It was a sign of his agitation that he didn't wait for permission before collapsing into one of the hard chairs in front of the historian's desk.
Astinus' pen continued its path across the great book, and Astinus' face lost none of its calm expression. "I know. The forces of Chaos are attacking the city. I suggest you begin moving the books into the cellar before they reach the Library."
"But, Sir, shouldn't you leave here as well?" Bertrem was beginning to catch his breath again, but he was far from calm.
"How many times must I tell you?" The pen continued to scratch, though Astinus' voice grew annoyed. "I was the first, I will be the last. Unless the world is coming to an end, I will be fine. My books, however, may not be." Bertrem recognized his dismissal and hurried from the room, screaming orders at the other fleeing Aesthetics.
Dalamar met the other inhabitants of the Tower of Palanthas in the entrance hall, his arms full of magical paraphernalia. Of all of them, Raistlin looked the most irate at having been summoned with the compulsion to take as much as he could carry. Everyone began speaking at once, demanding to know why they had been wrested from their beds at such an early hour in the morning.
"Quiet!" Dalamar's sharp tone alone revealed his agitation. "Palanthas is being attacked. Catherine, Fie and I must leave at once. If nothing else, the Library must be protected at all costs. First, all of us will stop at Jenna's and drop off this equipment. The city will need all of the help it can get."
"Why? There are Knights guarding the perimeter." Raistlin's tone was as cynical as ever. "They would not welcome magical assistance."
"If my eyes have seen truly, they will welcome any assistance they can get. The creatures attacking… They seem mockeries of true life. I do not know what they are, nor do I wish to. If my estimation is correct, Palanthas will fall within two days. After that, only the Scribe may know the intentions of the unknown force." Without further ado, Dalamar herded the teens and Evelynn close, making sure they were all touching someone else so that they would be included in his transportation ring's magic. As Dalamar said the word that unlocked the magic within the small ring, Raistlin placed one thin hand on Fie's shoulder.
When they arrived at their destination, all but Raistlin and Dalamar felt nauseous and off-balance. As Catherine's head stopped spinning, she looked around in wonder. The room they had arrived in was a spacious bedroom, made small by their five-person entourage. The only rooms Kit had seen previously in Krynn were the distinctly male ones in the Tower, but this one was definitely female. Tasteful curtains graced the windows, hiding the chaos outside. In the middle of the room was a sumptuous canopy bed, flanked by a nightstand covered with arcane objects. The dresser also displayed many objects that Kit had never seen, much less knew the purpose of.
Within seconds, a red-robed mage stormed into the room. She was beautiful in her fury, though when calm she'd likely only pass as 'elegant'. "Lord Dalamar." Jenna's voice was icy, and her formality let Dalamar know what she felt about the sudden intrusion. "What are you doing here?" Her angry face suddenly transformed into a mask of shocked horror as she caught sight of the Master of the Past and Present.
"Jenna, I'm sorry to intrude." Dalamar's voice was soothing despite his tightly wound nerves. "May I introduce Lady Evelynn Windglimmer." He gave the wizened elf the honor of being introduced first.
Recovering her composure somewhat, Jenna made a slight motion somewhere between a curtsy and a bow. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, my Lady."
"My Shalafi, the Archmagus Raistlin Majere." There was no need for Dalamar to point out which of their motley crew was the famed mage. He also felt no need to allow Jenna to know that Raistlin was powerless. "His apprentice Fie Dante, and my…" Dalamar paused, unsure of how to introduce Kitiara's daughter. "This is Catherine." Dalamar winced as Catherine's name rang hollowly without a surname.
Jenna simply raised an eyebrow as she waited for her lover to explain himself. "Something is attacking the city." The red-robed mage's gaze clearly told the assembled group what she thought about stating such an obvious truth.
"I need to inform the Conclave. The children are in training. Protect them while I'm gone? The Library needs to be defended." Only Dalamar's eyes betrayed how much he cared about the young people, and that only to the people who really knew him. Jenna sighed and rolled her eyes, but nodded her assent. Dalamar pulled another ring out of one of his pouches and activated its magic before another word could be said.
"Lady Windglimmer, would you like to go back to the Tower?" Jenna had no idea why Dalamar would have had a decrepit elven Lady in his care, but she did not really care, and definitely did not want to have to take care of her along with two pubescent tots. And from the stories she'd heard of his reign in times past, she knew that Raistlin would look out for himself alone. And oh yes, that reminded her, why was Raistlin back among the living, and why had Dalamar not told her? She was not even going to approach the subject of the teens, much less why the scrawny girl had an uncanny resemblance to Dalamar himself. Jenna's frown of frustration at her lover's lack of trust deepened when she saw the old elf's face harden with determination.
"I will not go back and hide in that Tower like an invalid! I have lived too long a life to be afraid. I have been away from my home for most of that life. Do not deny me the opportunity to see my world before I die." Evelynn glared at the young mage, daring her to argue.
Jenna was too exasperated by the circumstances to care overly much. Shaking her head, she took a transportation ring of her own from the dresser. "Let's go." Fortunately for Raistlin's sake, he was able to grab onto Fie without Jenna noticing, and no questions were asked when he arrived with the rest of the group at the Great Library.
To her dismay, Jenna found that they were the first mages on the scene. The Library had been transformed into a makeshift shelter, where the people of the town who were too poor to have fortified homes, or too far away from those homes, could take refuge. The Aesthetics were furiously working to board up the windows and take the books into the cellar where they got into arguments about available space with the people of the city. In the distance, light shimmered, making it evident that the great city of Palanthas was burning.
Jenna took up her place in front of the door, where she would be able to protect the people inside, and more importantly in her estimation, the books. Catherine and Fie flanked the more experienced mage, and Evelynn and Raistlin stood discreetly towards the back of the alcove in front of the immense double doors.
Jenna looked at the younger mages dubiously. "Can either of you cast a shield spell?" She really hoped that she wouldn't have to be a complete baby-sitter.
Fie just looked at Catherine and grinned. He strode in front of Jenna, and removed a small vial of liquid from one of his component pouches. He slowly poured the pungent-smelling substance out in a semicircle, enclosing the mages in the doorway. At the front of the circle, he tossed a bit of sand across about a foot and a half of the moistened earth. Stepping back towards the rest of the group, he muttered the words of a spell, too quietly for Jenna to hear. She didn't recognize the components used, however, and hoped that it would be strong enough to withstand the onslaught that was sure to come.
She needn't have worried. As Fie reached his place within the group, semi-transparent, opalescent walls reared around them and closed around their heads. Where Fie scattered the sand, the wall shimmered a different color.
At Jenna and Catherine's mute shock, Raistlin decided that an explanation was needed. "He used a shield spell that separated from his store of magic as soon as it was cast. This will insure he does not use his life-force to maintain it. It is permeable to air, sound, and light, but nothing else. The sand was used to provide a gateway for any allies who might want to join us in this fool's quest." He spoke as though it were Jenna's fault that she had never come in contact with that particular spell out of Fistandantilus' books.
As Raistlin finished speaking, Dalamar appeared, looking considerably miffed at having been blocked by a shield. "Come in through the front." Jenna's voice gave away none of her shock at the fact that a novice was able to perform such a difficult spell.
Dalamar stalked through the shield, obviously annoyed, but not at the situation in front of him. "Ah, finally, a mage with common sense who is capable of casting a proper shield," Came his caustic greeting. He joined Jenna near the front of the shielded area.
"Those fools at the Conclave think I'm overreacting. They said that they will be sending that dundering fool of a White Robe, Palin, to see if…" Dalamar suddenly realized that he called his Shalafi's nephew a dundering fool.
"Quite all right," Raistlin rasped. "Any nephew of mine weak enough to wear White and follow Par-Salian around like a trained dog deserves to be called a fool. Continue telling us about the Conclave's latest idiocy."
Dalamar looked very relieved at Raistlin's reaction. "Anyway, they're sending Palin and a couple of other White Robed flunkies to see if I'm telling the truth. And they're likely going to take their own sweet time about it." Suddenly, Dalamar looked at Fie as though the young human had grown a second head. "What's in your pouches?"
Fie looked down at his bulging spell components pouches as though he'd forgotten they were there. "Oh, I'm not even sure why I brought it. A few days after the explosion, the spectres brought me a broken stone from outside. It's really weird – its grey, but it sometimes seems kind of opalescent."
Everyone save the Master of the Past and Present all stared at Fie blankly, but Raistlin seemed to know exactly what he was talking about. "Fie, that's wonderful!" He breathed, staring greedily at the rounded pouches. Noting the others' vapid looks, Raistlin explained. "I cannot know for sure, but I believe that the spectres had given Fie the pieces of the Greygem."
That sparked a reaction from the other Tested mages. "The Greygem?" Jenna looked at Raistlin skeptically. "You can't honestly mean…"
"We're fighting Chaos?" Dalamar cut in numbly.
"It is better to know the enemy in all of its fury than to be left to imagine how bad it could be." Evelynn spoke, abruptly reminding the rest of the group that she was there.
To everyone's surprise, Raistlin supported the barely-lucid elf. "Lady Evelynn is correct. We did not know before what we were fighting, and now we do. It is said that only a drop of Chaos' blood had trapped him in the Greygem to begin with. We should be able to trap him once more with the same."
"So those things…" Catherine's voice was nervous, but slightly puzzled still. "What are they?"
Dalamar didn't answer, as he was concentrating on opening the shield in order to let through a few straggling civilians. Jenna deferred to Raistlin, guessing correctly that he would know more about it than she. "While Chaos, the father of the gods, was trapped in the Greygem, he had no way to unleash his power. Now that he has emerged, he has called minions from his plane of being. While he is able to hurl raw power, it is much simpler for him to use his servants to do his dirty work, whatever that may be. I cannot say any more about his lackeys; all knowledge that may have once existed of them has been lost to the unremitting hand of time."
As Raistlin was speaking, the echoing screams that had pervaded the city since the morning began to get louder. The mages tensed, reaching for their spell components as they began calling to mind the words of the spell they guessed might be useful. Soon, more refugees were hurtling around the corner. Some screamed while others sought only to reach the library, their ragged breathing sounding impossibly louder than the cries of terror from their fellows.
Catherine, being less powerful than Fie and less experienced than Jenna took over the easiest job, holding the shield open while the terrified populace was hurried towards the library by Evelynn. She gasped, nearly slicing a person in two by letting her control over the shield wane as she saw what came around the corner of the street next. Regaining control of the shield, it was all she could do to gasp "Fie… Dalamar…"
Her warning was unneeded and unacknowledged, however, as everyone in the shield save the civilians was already staring at the horrors which were writhing through the streets of Palanthas. Leading the chase towards the fleeing humans was a dog, if such a mundane name could be assigned to such a monstrosity. The thing was made of Chaos essence, a swirling, changing mass of angry colors that pulsed around, through, and under the creature's flesh in a way that made the horrified observers sick just watching. It had immense, slavering jaws, from which spittle flew occasionally, eating through the nearest surface like strong acid. Every once in a while, the immense creature let out a cry, a cry so terrible and unearthly that it was an effort for even those who were running not to raise their hands to their ears in a futile attempt to block the sound.
Following close behind the hound were floating things, vaguely human in shape. These things were dark shadows, pockets of nothingness that led nowhere. Only the occasional ripple of Chaos essence across their forms gave indication to the fact that they were something other than man-shaped portals into a void. As they came closer, Kit could see that the undulating colors of Chaos essence had formed eyes on the monsters, eyes she suddenly found she could not look away from.
"You young people have no sense these days. Look away!" Once again, Evelynn's clarity, especially in the face of such horrors, was astounding. Catherine found that the old, melodic voice was able to jerk her from whatever hellish stupor she'd fallen into. As she peered around in a daze, she realized that most of the others had also been entrapped by the spectres' eyes. She took a deep breath, praying to whatever deities might be listening that the runners would reach the gateway in time.
It appeared that, if any of the gods even heard, only the capricious Zeboim had the time to listen to mortals. Several more were able to run through the shield, but the dread hound of Chaos was quickly gaining. Catherine got the sense that it had been toying with the fleeing humans, as its stride was easy and long, and it showed no signs of strain or exhaustion. The people, on the other hand, were starting to lag, even engulfed by terror as they were. The hound of Chaos drew nearer, and still Catherine held open the gate.
Suddenly, she felt a power more experienced than her own wrench control of the gate from her. Shocked, she looked to find Dalamar concentrating on closing the doorway through the shield as quickly as possible. After a muttered spell word or two, it snapped shut. The people who were running towards it got looks of despair even deeper than the ones already on their faces. A little beggar girl running hand in hand with her grandmother was at the front of the straggling trail. Dalamar could not keep the people inside the library safe any longer with the shields held open, however. As the girl reached vainly towards the swiftly closing gateway, it snapped shut and cut her hand off just above the wrist.
Catherine began to scream, the keening wail of someone whose last shred of sanity was wavering. No one tried to calm her down; all were too horrified by the scene before them as Chaos' creatures fell upon the unfortunates too slow to reach the safety of the Great Library. Chaos' hound, running too quickly to stop before hitting the shield, leapt at the magic and pivoted off of it. The enormous beast went flying into the bodies of the stricken girl and her horrified elder, the momentum bearing them all to the ground. As it stood with a paw on each victim's chest, the hellhound took its time with the kills, drawing them out agonizingly as its victims shrieked in anguish.
The effects of the hound, however, were nothing compared to the atrocity inflicted by the shadows. They surrounded the remaining group of terrified people, all of whom stared at them with petrified eyes. Slowly, so that the horror-struck mages barely noticed at first, the shadowy abominations appeared to drain the life out of the people. At first, the civilians got a glazed look in their eyes, as the terror was drained out of them. Next to go was hope. The emotions, feelings, and the very souls were drained out of the people, and they were left with no sense of self. After they went dark-eyed with the vapid look of soullessness, another change began to come over them. Once more, the change was so subtle that the guardians of the library thought that their eyes were playing tricks on them.
The people surrounded by shadows began to fade, as though a heavy piece of glass was being held over them. Then, the lines of their bodies began to blur, penmarks being smudged by a careless hand. As they continued to fade, one by one, the people simply disappeared. Catherine wondered if a pop could be heard closer to the monstrosities as the people disintegrated.
All too soon, the defenders of the Library were brought out of their shocked reveries as the shadow beings, having finished off their original prey, turned their dark intentions upon the shield. Inward the fiends swept, and all within the barrier save Raistlin and Evelynn cringed as they reached the blockade. Quickly, Dalamar cast a second shield spell beneath the first in the hopes of holding off the fey beings for a little longer. Like Fie, he was careful to separate it from his life-force, so that he would not be killed in a futile attempt to hold it up.
To everyone's surprise, however, the outer shield held after flickering dangerously for a second. Unfortunately, this did not stop the shadows' devastating effects. Despite her knowledge of the dangers, Catherine accidentally found herself looking into the eyes of the nearest one. As she stared into the pools of infinity, she wondered about her purpose in life. She was just an orphan; no one wanted her. Her mother abhorred her enough to leave her with mages who mutilated her body. Dalamar was simply using her to further his own ends. If he weren't, why would he have waited so long to acknowledge her? She had no friends; no one as powerful as Fie would give much thought to friendship for very long. Even her power was of little consequence. Raistlin had said that it would wane with time, and he should know. Tears began streaming down her face as she realized that no one in this world or the one in which she grew up cared anything for her.
Suddenly, her vision of the swirling pools of angry, discordant colors was broken by a human obstruction. She felt herself being shaken by strong thin hands. After a few seconds, she was finally able to see what had gotten in her way. Fie was standing in front of her, and the periphery of her vision revealed Dalamar's tense hands on her shoulders.
"Kit!" Fie was breathing hard, and obviously was terrified. "Why did you look at them?" The young human's fear was manifesting itself in his sharp tone.
"I…" After Catherine started to speak, she realized that she had nothing to say. How could she communicate the numbing feeling of rejection, the feeling that nothing in the world was worth living for? How could she even have thought those things? The very fact that she was being interrogated by Fie, with her father's hands still holding tightly to her shoulders, proved how absurd her earlier thoughts had been.
"I'm sorry." They would have to be content with that. "Is there any way to prevent their gaze from catching us?" She tried to keep her voice from shaking.
"I'm not sure, but I think that possibly glass might refract the light enough that we will be protected." Fie seemed calm again, now that he could see that Catherine was not going to disappear. "Are there eyeglasses on this planet?" This new question was directed generally at the Krynnish natives.
"Some people do use spectacles to aid in their seeing, yes. There are likely to be several pairs inside the Library." Raistlin took it upon himself to go look for them. At Raistlin's disappearance, Jenna looked furious. "How dare he just leave us like that?" It seemed as though they would be relatively safe from the ravages of the shadowy horrors for as long as the shields held up and they could avoid looking at the terrible entities. However, Jenna did not feel very secure at the disappearance of the mage she deemed to hold the most power out of the group.
"There is very little he can do in this fight." Dalamar's tone, as well as the collapse of the outer shield under the onslaught of the wights and the hound which had joined them, made it impossible for Jenna to probe further. Frantically, the red-robed mage cast another shield beneath Dalamar's.
Within seconds, Raistlin returned, empty-handed. "Astinus said that I would be needed here, and that it would be a waste of time to attempt to part the near-sighted Aesthetics from their spectacles. What is wrong with the shadow-wights?" For a small amount of time, the assembled group could only stare at Raistlin, as his question came randomly and with no change in the emotion in his voice. Then, as one, they turned.
It appeared as though the shadow-wights, for that was their name in Astinus' great book, were retreating. They had given up pounding on the shields, and even Chaos' great hound had stopped jumping up in an attempt to use its own body as a battering ram. The defenders looked about in confusion because none of Chaos' servants appeared at all weakened by the constant pressure of the magical shields.
Just as suddenly as Chaos' minions backed away, the defenders found themselves cringing in fear. Raistlin and Dalamar knew the feeling to be dragon fear. All looked upward on impulse, and immediately wished that they hadn't. Above them were Chaos' dragons, too big to exist, even in the eyes of the mages who had seen dragons before. As with Chaos' other minions, their hides swirled with fiery colors that were constantly in motion. As one swooped down on a temple dedicated to Mishakal several streets away, it became evident why flames had been seen in the distance. Another dove towards the street, and when it came back up, the group was able to see it swallow a still-mounted knight whole.
"What is that sound?" Dalamar, able to fight through the paralyzing fear caused by the proximity of hostile dragons, had thought of the obvious question. Why would the shadow-wights and the hound be afraid of their own dragons? In trying to sense what could have caused them to pull back, he heard a fey noise on the wind.
One by one, the inexperienced fighters battled through their fear until they could hear and see with some amount of clarity again. "It sounds like song!" Out of the mortals who had never before seen a dragon, Evelynn's reaction was the most mild, likely because she had seen too much in her life to let anything scare her.
Catherine was the next to hear it, her half-elven ears picking up sounds still too distant for the full-blooded humans to sense. She shuddered at the cold sound that she could just barely hear. Within minutes, the sound became loud enough for even the humans to hear it clearly. Even Raistlin and Dalamar were chilled by what they heard.
A masculine voice was indeed singing, but the voice was distorted, almost robotic, as though the man's voice box had disappeared. The words were clear, however, and it was the words, as well as the insanity they held, that haunted the listeners more than the voice itself.
"The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out. They'll eat your guts and then spit them out. We'll wrap you up in a bloody sheet, and throw you down about fifty feet. But don't you laugh, and don't you cry, for you may be the next to die!" The lyrics were sung in a taunting, singsong tune, and the last word ended with an insane, high-pitched giggle. The whole thing was then repeated.
Soon after he came into hearing distance, the singer emerged around the corner. It was Arash, but he was barely recognizable. His limbs were oddly distended, as though he'd been stretched on a rack but maintained control of the maimed appendages. Under his skin, Chaos essence pulsed in place of blood. Every once in a while, the gore beneath his skin welled up and threatened to burst, but at the last possible second was reabsorbed. His eyes were swollen as well, appearing as huge globes on his face. They too throbbed with Chaos, and the furiously pulsating irises had engulfed the pupils and whites.
"Catherine, how nice to see you!" The laugh was deeper this time, and reminded the children of Earth of some long-forgotten Disney villain. However, there was nothing remotely benign or childlike about the situation. Suddenly, Arash seemed to realize that the shadow-wights and the hound were staring at him.
"Shoo." He made waving motions with his hands as though he couldn't imagine why they might still be there. "Go terrorize some civilians or something."
Dalamar looked at the human teen with trepidation. Had he not seen the horrible wonders of other planes in his days as Raistlin's apprentice, his uneasiness would likely be closer to fear.
"What do you want?" His daughter had apparently seen enough horrors that day that she too was not as frightened as a normal person should be. Having seemingly gotten over the fright of nearly being winked out of existence, she was facing off with Chaos' general with her hands on her hips and a fierce expression that looked utterly ridiculous on her too-young face.
"What do I want?" Arash looked utterly bemused at the ferocious question. " What do I want? Isn't it obvious? I want to destroy you." Dalamar felt nauseas. Obviously, the strain of the Chaos power running through the boy's blood vessels had broken him, in mind as well as in body.
Arash let out that horrible deep laugh of his again, and pointed at the shields blocking the door to the library and the defenders in front of it. A brilliant bolt of light colored in swirls of oranges and reds shot from his fingertips, striking the outer shield. The shield succumbed immediately. Arash grinned at their looks of shock.
Dalamar's hands went diving into his components pouches. One emerged immediately, bringing forth a delicate ring set with a dark stone. "Catherine, you and Fie take Evelynn back to the Tower. It is too dangerous for you to be here. The ring needs no activation. Simply make sure you're all touching and place it on your finger." Wisely, he did not suggest that the former Archmagus return with the children and the elder.
"No!" Catherine was firm, though she blushed slightly as she realized that Arash was watching eagerly, as a cat watches the mouse it is baiting. "We can't leave you here. You will need our power. Until someone from the Conclave arrives, you'll be lost if you don't have every able-bodied mage available!"
Dalamar was ready to argue with her until she gave in, but Arash made that impossible. Still laughing maniacally, he shot another bolt of power at the remaining shield and broke that one as easily as the first. He took his time as he scorched a ring around the pitiful defenders, destroying the beautiful façade of Astinus' temple of knowledge. He giggled as he sent a bolt of power tearing through a window and into a hapless Aesthetic who had been peering warily out.
Jenna cast a spell at Arash while he was distracted in the hopes of knocking him out, or at least slowing him down. Her powerful spell had no impact, however, the energy was simply absorbed by the creature Arash had become. He playfully blew a hole in the pavement at the Red Robe's feet.
"Why don't you do something?" Jenna was accusing Raistlin. "You're the only one powerful enough." She glared at him fiercely, one eye still cautiously watching Arash.
Raistlin simply shook his head. "I do not know what Dalamar sees in you. You obviously still have not yet figured out that I was sent back into this world powerless. I can advise and teach, but you had best look to your other allies if it is magic you seek." The former mage's voice was bitter.
"Oh, how cute." Arash broke the sudden silence. "If we're done with this touching little moment…"
As he spoke, Dalamar tried his luck with a spell, as Fie did the same. Despite the greater amount of power, their deadly barrage had barely more affect than Jenna's spell had seconds before. For a second, Arash seemed to loose his balance, but it was regained so quickly that the defenders thought that they had not seen him falter at all. He motioned to the demons who had been standing off to the side.
Several hounds surrounded the group once more as if called. One appeared to be the fiend that had menaced them earlier, and if possible, some of the others were even more horrendous. To the Earth children, the hellish mutts seemed as though they were the product of nuclear fallout – one had two heads, another three eyes. One limped along on three feet, the front one being centered in its chest.
These four monstrosities leapt at the group with evil intent, again commanded by silence. Commanded they obviously were, because they attacked the defenders in formation. Two leapt at the adult mages, one at Fie, and one menaced the two defenders not able to use magic, both helpless where they'd formerly been so powerful in their own ways. Arash stood back, waiting and laughing.
It obviously took Catherine a few seconds to realize that she was being singled out. Even when she did, she attempted to attract the attention of the hounds so that the other mages might have a chance. Dalamar watched helplessly as Catherine threw every spell he had taught her at the hounds. Nothing seemed to avail her, however, as they completely ignored her through everything from simple sleep spells to a fairly difficult spell of friendship that Dalamar had taught her just days before. Had the situation not been so dire, Dalamar would have felt pride for his newly found daughter as she moved from spell to spell without hesitation.
Though the other mages were having as little luck as Catherine was, the hounds did not move in for the kills, easy as it might have been. Instead, they simply herded them closer to the door of the Great Library until Catherine was left alone, a tiny child facing a menace too large for even the greatest of heroes.
Once he saw that she was positioned correctly, twenty or thirty feet away from him, Arash began throwing bolts of power once more, taunting her. Dalamar noticed with horror that even Evelynn had apparently lost hope, and was praying once more to a god that she had forsaken centuries prior. He noted that Jenna was beginning to run down on spells, as he himself was. Futilely, he cast one of his remaining death spells at Arash himself, where it had as little effect as it did on the hounds.
Finally, Arash spoke once more, his voice sounding above the deep growling and baying of the hellhounds. "You should feel honored, half-breed. Out of all the people of your paltry little group, I singled you out personally. Though that fag you call father might have directly caused my humiliation, the blame in the end rests solely with you. I asked Chaos to give you to me to kill specially. I hope you feel honored."
"If you want to blame someone, blame whatever hell-witch birthed you!" Catherine had obviously decided to go out fighting, and Dalamar couldn't help but grimace at the irony that the self-same 'hell-witch' who was Arash's mother was his daughter's own mother as well.
Baiting Arash seemed to make him move more quickly, if nothing else. He allowed a huge mass of power to accumulate in his hand, shaping itself in a mockery of Paladine's divine spear of justice. Dalamar could hear Catherine pointlessly chanting the words of her last spell. Though he didn't know what it could possibly do, Dalamar had to admit that the girl had saved the best for last. It was one of the deadliest spells a beginner red-robe could summon, one that would suck the energy out of any creature.
Time seemed to slow down. As Arash released his bolt of unholy lightening, Catherine finished chanting her spell and hurled a dead lizard at Arash. Her gruesome component reached him a second before his missile reached her, and miraculously, her spell worked. It seemed as though Arash had been vulnerable in the instant that he released the power. Dalamar supposed that release of power had opened a split-second channel to the Chaos-essence he was using. In the moments before the bolt hit Catherine, Arash seemed to crumple, the essence that kept him alive being pulled away into a nether-dimension. The gross pustules that had undulated across Arash's body popped as Chaos sensed his power being drained and strove to reclaim as much as possible. As Arash's power left his body, the hellhounds fled as well, deciding to join the Master who still had power.
The bolt of power hit Catherine as Arash collapsed. Despite the inevitability of it all, her expression was one of shock as the power of the thrust spun her around to face the horrified group of defenders. Dalamar and Fie reached the fallen girl at the same moment, and when Fie felt for her pulse, his face told all that was needed. How quickly the lives of mortals are lost.