Raistlin's first meeting with Dalamar
By, Alex Andrews
Author's note: All rights are reserved with their respective authors of the characters and settings used in this short story. I do not have any affiliation with either of the authors, and do not claim any rights to the characters or settings of which are about to be written.
P.S. of Author's note: I have not found any stories on this website that accurately describe what I would call Dalamar and Raistlin's first meeting. Therefore, to encourage the more cohesive accounts of what happened to the books, I will embark on a journey to try to better understand what happened when Raistlin and Dalamar met.
The sound of the rain on the window panes of The Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas was soothing to Raistlin's aching nerves. He had a visitor coming. No, more than one, that would be arriving shortly. He eagerly awaited them to try to come to where he asked. The one to get the furthest… well that would be if any of them could even make it that far, Raistlin dismissed the thought with a shrug.
Raistlin chuckled to himself, a cruel chuckle, born of his inability to cope with society, and the lack of enthusiasm that society showed to his existence. He glanced out the window, idly drumming his slender golden fingers on the windowsill, trying to discern what was outside of the window. He growled, an unnatural sound for him, since it usually set off a coughing fit and recited a sentence in the spidery language of magic.
There, the window was now clear, well as clear as it could be with the current weather, and Raistlin could peer out of his dark tower. What a gloomy day, but then, thought Raistlin as lightning ripped through the sky and thunder rolled over the city of Palanthas, it would be perfect weather for the meeting that Raistlin had in mind for his guests.
Then as suddenly as the rain had set in that day, four members that had taken the test, the very same test that had forever cursed Raistlin to a wretched existence, appeared out of nowhere, their black robes whipping around them in the winds. They looked up at the tower, right where Raistlin was and moved slowly across the pavement to the Shoikan grove.
Raistlin had a queer feeling that they were floating across it, but then reminded himself that he was master of this tower, and that if they were such creatures, that he had many more at his disposal to rid himself of these specters. One floated up to the window with him and peered out.
The first black robe, a squat one to be sure stopped, and the wind tossed his hood back, showing a face blank with terror. He ran so far off that Raistlin, after chuckling to himself, was assured that he would never again be troubled by the likes of that man again.
The face next to him, one of what he called the dead ones, asked in a haunting echo, "Why make them do this sire? Surely they cannot come much further."
"They must prove themselves worthy of tutelage under me." Raistlin said in even tones, but the spirit still shrank from his presence as if afflicted by fire, "They will endure much worse fear than this in the incantations I will be performing here."
"but master," wailed the ghost in his eternal woe and hunger for warm blood, "how long will you torture them this way, and will you have a sane pupil after this test?"
"Yes, I am sure I will. Now, go. See to it that the one that passes the test is brought safely to me, alive." Raistlin stated, not turning from the window where he saw another figure run, his heart bursting in the agony of fear that he was feeling.
Now there were two, Raistlin thought as the two black figures floated closer to the tower, no they hobbled closer; each step a labor, each step more languished than the last. Raistlin's hungry eyes favored the taller of the two, who reminded him more of himself than the other one, who reminded Raistlin of his twin brother.
Raistlin watched intently as both tried to reach the tower, and both stopped. Would it be a tie? Then the least favored by Raistlin started to back up, mayhap from the fear, or mayhap because Raistlin secretly chose the other, no one could be certain, but the screams of terror lashed out in the night amidst the thunder like a symphony. This meant the test was over.
Or at least the first one, Raistlin thought to himself in his cold laboratory. The dark figure stood there for long moments, daring not to move, and then the hood looked up at Raistlin. He couldn't see the face, but he imagined it would be pleading.
Then the figure did what Raistlin didn't even believe it could do. It moved slowly again, in an extremely labored fashion towards the Shoikan Grove all around the tower and touched one of the oaks. A series of screams and shouts issued forth from the tower, making the black robed man put his hands over his ears, and drop to his knees.
When the screams died into the roiling noise of the thunderstorm, only then did he proceed further, past the first of the trees. Raistlin, being stunned as he was for the figure making it this far, was even more surprised. Remembering his first walk through the forest though, shook him back to reality. He stepped through the wall and disappeared into the night.
Dalamar awoke to the sound of a man's rattling breathing. He tried to sit up, but his head swam feverishly and he had to retire back to his previous position. Speaking of which, what was it? He looked around, seeing a blurred library and a dark figure standing over him. He asked in this state of mind, "Have you come for me already? Am I to see my ancestors?"
Raistlin was taken aback by this and folded his arms in the folds of his robes, "No, not if you don't do anything that extremely foolish again." He glared at the man, who was clearly and elf with intense enmity. He had made Raistlin go and rescue him like a frightened babe before he became just another shade in the grove.
"I am sorry." The elf said, trying to sit up again, and again failing, just as he had in that damned grove. "Where am I?" he asked, bleakly looking around, squinting his eyes as if he was suffering from a headache.
"You are in the Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas." Raistlin snapped, "Where else would you be? Who else could have saved you from the guardians?"
The elf's eyes shot open at the mention of the guardians and he stared in recognition at Raistlin, who smiled at Dalamar. A shiver ran through his spine as he tried to blink away the blurredness of his vision. It didn't help apparently, for he turned over and squinted at Raistlin.
"You must be Raistlin Majere, master of this tower." He said, and Raistlin nodded, ending his squinting fit. "And I must be grateful o you for saving me, I had every intention of-"
"Fulfilling your promise to meet me here by ten o'clock tonight, without aid passing through the Shoikan Grove like a child with a rose as his weapon against a troll with a club. You might as well say, here, take my blood to the specters residing here while you are at it." The venom of the words struck the elf like fire, and he writhed beneath them. "If you ever attempt anything that foolish without my aid again, I will make sure that you are the doorman of this tower for the next century!"
The elf turned white, all of the color draining from his face as he tried to swallow the apparent lump in his throat, "Yes shalafi, I will not disappoint you again." He turned towards Raistlin but he was already gone, an apparition in his place with a note in his hand.
Raistlin waited for an hour and a half, not time wasted, but certainly not time spent doing what he planned to do. He cursed his new apprentice, and thought about offing him then and there. Then he thought better of it, besides, who would be able to make it as far as he did. A smirk arose on his face as he studied one of the many spell books that Fistandantilus wrote in his younger and older years. Of course it all blended together, for there were vast centuries of knowledge that Raistlin had at his fingertips just because of the existence of Fistandantilus.
A knock at the door disturbed him, just as he had almost committed a spell to memory, and he flinched. His golden mirrored eyes looked at the door scathingly and a blast from the inside out knocked the elf flat on his face. The door, realizing that Raistlin had made it open without its own free will, closed itself politely behind him.
"Sit." He commanded the elf, who got up and wiped blood from his lip, where he had fallen on his face. The elf gathered himself up in a regal manner, before seeing Raistlin sneer at him for wasting time, and hurriedly rushed to the chair to sit down. It was a comfortable place, not surrounded by the thousands of books, but one sat on the desk, ad was warmed by a fire behind Raistlin, which was glowing green, obviously an ever burning pyre it was an impressive spell, one that was taxing on ones health.
Raistlin finally got his new apprentices attention, after it was drawn to the fire, back and stared at him coldly from his hourglass pupils, his skin rotting off of the flesh as every other persons had and would for the rest of his wretched existence.
"Name?" Raistlin asked, producing a quill from thin air and setting it to parchment.
"D-D-Dalamar." The elf stammered. Raistlin glared at him again, making him produce "Dalamar."
"Reason for coming?" Raistlin asked scratching the answer to his first question down without looking away from Dalamar, his eyes fixed on his every expression.
"To gain power, master." He returned, and finally Raistlin's eyes glanced off of Dalamar, making the elf relax a bit. His heart stopped beating like a frightened rabbit, and the uncomfortable feeling of a prying eye was off of him.
"Necessary vacations?" Raistlin asked, catching Dalamar off guard. His eyes seemed to snake into the very confines of his spirit, reading it like a book.
"The usual holidays for elves, if that is quite alright with you." He seemed to shake a bit at this, which Raistlin found amusing. Having this young specimen totally under his control was amusing at the least. He wrote this down, and then jotted a note to himself that read "nervous behavior when asked about his vacations."
"Your room is up the hall to the left." Raistlin said, his eyes not leaving his paper, "You will arise at five o'clock sharp, and be ready by six in this room." Then He waved his hand and Dalamar was inside his bedroom, totally disoriented by the spell, which he had had five counter spells for around him.
Certainly Raistlin was powerful, for he didn't exert any energy in breaking through the complex counter spells in an instant and then teleporting him to his room. One surprise after another today did not do well with Dalamar's stomach, and so he threw up in a nearby waste bin and went over to his bed, entirely spent from the day, and flopped down on his bed where he instantly fell unconscious.
Raistlin checked up on his apprentice later on. Well checked up would not be the word, more of investigated. Since his new pupil had counter spells ridden all throughout his person, it was no easy task to get anywhere near him, but after about three minutes of concentration, all of the counterspells were off.
Some of the counterspells were extremely powerful, as though an archmage, like himself, had cast them. He pondered this as he severed all the ties from the magic to Dalamar, letting the magic go on the wind.
Raistlin then uttered some of the uncomfortable language of magic and sprinkled sand over his student, Dalamar, he reminded himself of the name. He then proceeded to search his robes, finding various notes and such from admirers and enemies, all useless and put back in their spots. Then he found, in a pocket inside a pocket, a note that did interest him.
"Dearest Dalamar," It read, "Your task is not an easy one, make sure that he does not know you're assignment from me. Looking forward to your report next we meet.
Ah, Raistlin thought, rolling up the note and sticking it back exactly the way he had it and then rolling over Dalamar to his previous position on the bed, So, you are a spy for Par Salian? Should I just kill you here? It would be too easy. No, better to let you think you have your triumph. I will keep closer watch on you than even before though, not that it will do anything. If you wanted me dead you would already be dust upon the wind when the first syllables of a spell touched your lips. Sleep now and dream of your greatness, and your guile, and think that you have fooled the greatest mage to have ever lived. When you awake in the morning, you will wish you had never been born. Raistlin thought this, never having any threat intentioned, but because of the experiments that he would partake in the next day, Dalamar would wish that he had never been born, for the horror of the experiments would haunt him until the day he died.
Then Raistlin left, his shadow just a few seconds behind, it closing the door for him. Dalamar slept fitfully that night, having nightmares about being found out. He awoke at five, drenched in a cold sweat.
He hurriedly washed up and made it back to the laboratory at six, where Raistlin was sitting, just as he had left him, scribbling something on a piece of parchment.
"Sit." Raistlin said, much as before, "Today we are going to venture into the realm of nightmares." A grin twisted his face, making it horrible to look upon.