Dragons of the Hourglass Mage
( Dragonlance:Lost Chronicles - 3 )
Margaret Weis
Margaret Weis
Dragons of the Hourglass Mage
Tracy Hickman
PROLOGUE
Two legends of Krynn are essential to the understanding of the plot. Many variations of these legends can be found. Every bard tells them somewhat differently. We have chosen these versions as being the closest to what actually occurred, though, as with most legends, the truth of the matter will likely never be known. Excerpts from "A Child's Garden of Tales of Krynn," translated from the Elvish by Quivalen Soth:
The Story of Berem and Jasla A Tale of Love and Sacrifice
Long ago, at the end of the Second Dragon War, the valiant knight, Huma Dragonsbane, drove Queen Takhisis into the Abyss. He forced her to swear an oath before the High God that she would not return to the world to upset the delicate balance between good and evil. The gods believed that an oath taken before the High God was so powerful that not even the Queen of Darkness would dare break it. Sadly they were mistaken.
Time passed. The Kingpriests of Istar, acting in the name of the Gods of Light and with their blessing, rose in power. The world was at peace. Unfortunately a man may be blinded by light as well as by darkness. The last Kingpriest looked into the sun and saw nothing but his own glory and dared to proclaim himself a god.
The Gods of Light realized to their sorrow that they were now threatening the balance that causes the world to keep turning. They sought the help of the other gods, including Queen Takhisis. The gods determined that in order to restore the balance and teach mankind humility, they would cause a great Cataclysm. Before they acted, they sent the Kingpriest many warnings, urging him to change. The Kingpriest and his followers turned a deaf ear, and the gods, greatly grieving, hurled a fiery mountain down upon Krynn.
The blast leveled the city of Istar and cast it into the sea and destroyed the Temple of the Gods of Light. Or so the gods believed. But although the Temple of Istar lay in ruins at the bottom of the sea, the Foundation Stone upon which the Temple was built remained intact, for that stone is the foundation of faith.
After the Cataclysm, the gods hoped men would acknowledge their faults and seek out the gods. To the gods' sorrow, men blamed the gods for their suffering. Word spread that the gods had abandoned their creation. The world erupted into chaos. Death stalked the land.
Takhisis, Queen of Darkness, was still imprisoned in the Abyss. All the exits were guarded. If she tried to break free, the other gods would know and they would stop her. Still, she never quit seeking a way back into the world, and one day, in her restless roaming, she came upon a great prize. Takhisis discovered the Foundation Stone. The other gods did not know it still existed. She realized that she could use the stone to return to the world.
True, she would be breaking her oath to the High God. But she was cunning and she counted upon the fact that the world was already in peril. Men had lost hope. Plagues, pestilence, famines, and wars had killed millions. Takhisis could enter the world and wake her evil dragons and launch her war. When she conquered Krynn, she would be so powerful that the other gods would not dare to punish her.
Takhisis, cloaked in darkness, slipped into the world through the gate left open by the Foundation Stone. She woke her evil dragons and ordered them to steal the eggs of the good dragons, who slumbered in their lairs. She prepared to prosecute her war with all her might and power. Then she discovered one day that her way into the world through the Foundation Stone had been blocked.
A man named Berem and his sister, Jasla, were walking together when they came upon the Foundation Stone. They could not believe their good fortune. Rare and precious gems, embedded in the stone, sparkled and shone in the light of creation. Berem was a poor man. One gem could relieve his family's poverty. One gem, one perfect emerald, out of so many would not be missed. Berem began to pry the emerald loose.
His sister, Jasla, was horrified by the theft. She grabbed hold of her brother to try to stop him. Berem flew into a rage and flung her away. She fell and struck her head on the stone and died, her blood staining the Foundation Stone.
Berem loved his sister, and he was appalled at his crime. And he was afraid. No one would believe him when he said that killing his sister had been an accident. He would be executed for murder. Instead of confessing his sin and seeking forgiveness, he turned to flee. As he did so, the emerald that he had been trying to steal sprang from the Foundation Stone and embedded itself in his chest.
Berem was frantic with terror. The spirit of his sister grieved for him. She assured him she still loved him, but he refused to listen. He tried to tear the gem out with his fingers. He was so desperate, he sought to cut it out of his own flesh with a knife. The emerald remained a part of him, the everlasting reminder of his guilt. Berem covered up the gem with his shirt and fled, closing his ears to the pleas of his sister to seek forgiveness even as she had forgiven him.
Takhisis had been witness to this tragedy and had reveled in Berem's downfall… until she tried to cross the Foundation Stone. She found her entrance barred by a chain forged of love. Jasla's spirit blocked her way. Now only the Dark Queen's shadow could be cast over Krynn. Her power over man was reduced; she would have to rely on mortals to prosecute her war.
Takhisis had to find Berem. If she could destroy him, his sister's spirit would depart and the Dark Queen would once more be free. She had to be careful in her search for him, however, for if he returned to his sister and redeemed himself, her entry into the world would be blocked for good.
She sent secret word out to her most trusted servants to seek a man named Berem who had a green gemstone embedded in his chest. A man with an old face and young eyes, for the gem gave him immortality. He could not die until he was either redeemed or his soul was utterly lost.
Berem was always on the move, running not only from the Forces of Darkness, but also from his own guilt. Time and again, Takhisis was thwarted in her efforts to capture him. She launched her war, which became known as the War of the Lance, and still Berem had not been found. But by now, his tale was becoming known to more and more people and, eventually, was bound to come to the attention of those fighting Queen Takhisis.
Berem Everman would become men's greatest hope. And their greatest fear.
The Story of Fistandantilus A Cautionary Tale
Long ago there lived a powerful wizard named Fistandantilus. He was so powerful that he came to believe that the rules and laws, which governed other, lesser men, did not apply to him. These included those laws of his own order of magic, that of the Black Robes. Fistandantilus left the order and became a renegade, subject to death at the hands of his fellow wizards.
Fistandantilus did not fear his fellow wizards. He had amassed such knowledge and skill in magic that he could destroy any who came to try to bring him to justice. Such was the fear and respect in which his fellow wizards held him that few tried.
Fistandantilus flaunted his power in the face of the Conclave, even taking on apprentices. What no one knew was that he was feeding off his pupils, sucking out their life-forces and using that to extend his own. He had created a magical gem, a bloodstone, for this purpose. He would press the stone to the heart of his victim and drain him of life.
As Fistandantilus's power grew, so did his arrogance. He decided to enter the Abyss and overthrow the Queen of Darkness and take her place. To this end, he crafted one of the most powerful and complex magical spells ever created. His arrogance proved his downfall. No one is certain what happened. Some say Takhisis found out and her wrath brought down his fortress on top of him. Others say that his spell esca
ped his control and blew the fortress apart. Whatever the cause, Fistandantilus's mortal body died.
His soul, however, did not.
His soul refused to leave Krynn, and the evil wizard remained on the ethereal plane. His existence was tenuous, for he was constantly under siege from Takhisis, who continued to try to destroy him. He kept himself alive by leeching off the life-forces of his victims, even as he hoped someday to find a living body he could inhabit and return to life.
Fistandantilus had managed to retain his bloodstone and, armed with that, he lay in wait for victims. He sought out young magicusers, particularly those who were leaning toward darkness, for they would be most likely to succumb to temptation.
The Conclave of Wizards knew Fistandantilus was searching for prey, but they were powerless to stop him. Whenever a young magic-user took the dread Test in the Tower of High Sorcery, the Conclave knew there was a chance that Fistandantilus would seize him. Many who died taking the Test were thought to have been his victims.
Five years prior to the start of the War of the Lance, a young mage and his twin brother came to the Tower of Wayreth to take the Test. The young man had shown great promise in his studies. Foreseeing a time of war and evil coming to Krynn, the head of the Conclave, Par-Salian, hoped that this young mage would assist in defeating the darkness.
The young mage was himself arrogant and ambitious. Although he wore the red robes, his heart and soul tended toward darkness and his own choices led him to strike a bargain with Fistandantilus.* The evil wizard did not intend to keep his side of the deal; he meant to drain the young man of his life.
Raistlin Majere was not like others before him. He was in his own way as skilled in magic as Fistandantilus. When the evil mage came to seize the young man's heart and rip it from his body, Raistlin grasped hold of the heart of Fistandantilus.
"You may take my life," Raistlin told Fistandantilus, "but you will serve me in return."
The young man survived his Test, but he was shattered in body, for Fistandantilus was continually draining him of life in order to sustain himself on his magical plane. In return, however, Fistandantilus had to keep Raistlin alive and would come to his aid by feeding him knowledge of magicks that were far advanced for such a young wizard.
Raistlin did not remember any of his Test, nor did he remember his bargain. He thought the Test had ruined his health, and Par-Salian did not tell him otherwise.
"He will know the truth only when he comes to know the truth about himself, confront and admit the darkness within."
Par-Salian spoke those words, but not even he in his wisdom could foresee how the dark and strange alliance would, in the end, be resolved. * The story can be found in The Soulforge by Margaret Weis, published by Wizards of the Coast.
1
A Roll of the Dye. An Unexpected Encounter. 2nd Day, Month of Mishamont, Year 352 AC
The city of Palanthas had been awake most of the night, bracing for war. The city had not panicked; ancient aristocratic grand dames such as Palanthas never panicked. They sat rigid in their ornately carved chairs, holding tight to their lace handkerchiefs and waiting with stern countenances and straight backs for someone to tell them if there was going to be a war and, if so, would it be so rude as to interrupt their plans for dinner.
The forces of the feared Blue Lady, Dragon Highlord Kitiara, were rumored to be marching on the city. The Highlord's armies had been defeated at the High Clerist's Tower, which guarded the pass leading down from the mountains into Palanthas. The small group of knights and foot soldiers who had held the Tower against the initial assault were not strong enough to hold out against another attack. They had left the fortress and the graves of their dead, retreating to Palanthas.
The city had not been pleased at that. If the militant, warmongering knights had not entered her walls, Palanthas would have been left in peace. The dragonarmies would not dare to attack a city so venerable and revered. The wise knew better. Almost all other major cities in Krynn had fallen to the might of the dragonarmies. The baleful eyes of Emperor Ariakas were turned to Palanthas, to her port, her ships, her wealth. The glittering city, the jewel of Solamnia, would be the most magnificent gem in Ariakas's Crown of Power.
The Lord of Palanthas sent his troops to the battlements. The citizens hunkered down in their houses, shuttered their windows. Shops and businesses closed. The city believed she was prepared for the worst, and if the worst came, as it had come to other cities, such as Solace and Tarsis, Palanthas would fight valiantly. For there was courage in the heart of the old grand dame. Her rigid spine was made of steel.
She was not tested. The worst did not come. The forces of the Blue Lady had been routed at the High Clerist's Tower and were in retreat. The dragons sighted that morning, winging toward the city's walls, were not the red fire-breathing dragons or the lightning-crackling blue dragons people feared. The morning sun sparkled on shining silver scales. Silver dragons had flown from their homes in the Dragon Isles to defend Palanthas.
Or so the dragons claimed.
Since war did not come, the citizens of Palanthas left their homes and opened their shops and surged out into the streets, talking, arguing. The Lord of Palanthas assured the citizens that the new dragons were on the side of Light, that they worshiped Paladine and Mishakal and the rest of the gods of Light, that they had agreed to assist the Knights of Solamnia, protectors of the city.
Some people believed their lord. Some didn't. Some argued that dragons of any color were not to be trusted, that they were there simply to lull the people into a state of complacency, and that the dragons would attack in the dead of night and they would all be devoured in their beds.
"Fools!" Raistlin muttered more than once as he shoved his way through the crowds, or rather as he was bumped and jostled and nearly run over by a careening horse cart.
If he had been wearing his red robes that marked him a wizard, the people of Palanthas would have eyed him askance, left him severely alone, gone out of their way to avoid him. Clad in the plain gray robes of an Aesthetic of the Great Library of Palanthas, Raistlin was trampled and pushed and trod upon.
Palanthians were not fond of wizards, even those of the red robes, who were neutral in the war, or the white, who were dedicated to the side of Light. Both Orders of High Sorcery had worked and sacrificed to bring about the return of the metallic dragons to Ansalon. The head of their order, Par Salian, knew that the sight of the spring dawn glistening on silver and golden wings would come as a punch in the gut to Emperor Ariakas; the first blow that had been able to penetrate his dragonscale armor. All during the war, the wings of Takhisis's evil dragons had darkened the skies. Now the skies of Krynn shone with brightening light, and the Emperor and his Queen were starting to grow nervous.
The people of Palanthas did not know that the wizards had been working to protect them and would not have believed such a claim if they heard it. To their minds, the only good wizard was a wizard who lived somewhere besides Palanthas.
Raistlin Majere was not wearing his red robes because they were wrapped in a bundle tucked under his arm. He wore the "borrowed" gray robes of one of the monks of the Great Library.
Borrowed. Thinking of that word brought to mind Tasslehoff Burrfoot. The light-hearted and lighter-fingered kender never "stole" anything. When caught with purloined goods upon his person, the kender would claim to have "borrowed" the sugar basin, "stumbled across" the silver candlesticks, and "was just coming to return" the emerald necklace. Raistlin had "stumbled upon" the Aesthetic's robes lying folded neatly on a bed that morning. He had every intention of returning the gray robes in a day or two.
Mostly people, absorbed in their arguments, ignored him as he fought his way through the crowded streets. But occasionally some citizen would stop him to ask what Astinus thought about the arrival of the metallic dragons, the dragons of Light.
Raistlin didn't know what Astinus thought and he didn't care. Keeping his cowl pulled low to conceal the fact that his s
kin shimmered gold in the sunlight and that the pupils of his eyes were the shape of hourglasses, he would mutter an excuse and hurry on. He hoped sourly that the workers at his destination were actually doing some work, that they were not out gossiping in the street.
He regretted thinking of Tasslehoff. The memory of the kender brought back memories of his friends and his brother. He should say his deceased friends, deceased brother: Tanis Half-Elven, Tika, Riverwind and Goldmoon, and Caramon. All of them dead. He alone had survived, and that was because he had been smart enough to have foreseen disaster and planned a way out. He had to face the fact that Caramon and the others were dead and quit obsessing over it. But even as he told himself he should stop thinking about them, he thought about them.
Fleeing the dragonarmies in Flotsam, he and his brother and their friends had sought to escape by taking passage aboard a pirate ship, the Perechon. They had been pursued by a Dragon Highlord-his half-sister, Kitiara, as it turned out. The crazed helmsman had steered the ship deliberately into the Blood Sea's feared Maelstrom. The ship was being ripped apart, spars falling, sails being torn to tatters. The wild water was breaking over the decks. Raistlin had a choice. Either he could die with the rest of them or he could leave. The choice was obvious to anyone with a brain-which excluded his brother. Raistlin had in his possession the magical dragon orb that had once belonged to the ill-fated King Lorac. Raistlin had used the magic of the orb to escape. True, he might have taken his friends with him. He might have saved all of them. He might at least have saved his brother.
But Raistlin was only just learning about the powers of the dragon orb. He was not certain the orb had the ability to save the rest, and therefore, he had saved himself-and the other. The other who was always with him, who was with him even as he pushed his way through the streets of Palanthas. Once this "other" had been a whispered voice in Raistlin's head, unknown and mysterious and maddening. But the mystery had been solved. Raistlin could put a hideous face to the disembodied voice, give the speaker a name.
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