Summer of Flame

A/N: As for Usha, I include only short little snippets until she meets someone (like, as in our little trio of Majere’s, lol) only so we all know where she is and that she exists in this story. I wasn’t a really, really big fan of Usha (I consider her a canon-Sue, as in a Mary-Sue created in canon, but little more than that. Unfortunately for the story we kinda need her...) I promise not to be too mean to her, lol ;)

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Chapter Seven:

The Burden & The Gift of Gods

Usha woke as her own little boat bumped against the city’s dock. Blinking her eyes in vague confusion, she looked around before getting out of the little boat and standing on the dock. A human man, not extremely well washed so she therefore naturally wrinkled her nose at his smell, came up to her and asked, “That will be three steel.”

“Steel?”

“Yeah, the docking fee, little miss,” he said, pointing to her boat.

Usha dug around in her pouches, then found a small token and handed it to him, “I think that is fair trade.”

His eyes bugged out a little, “Oh yes. And I’ll be sure to make sure she’s well taken care of too. When you need to dock here, consider this your slip. All I need is your name.”

“I am called Usha of Selesia,” she answered before gracefully stepping around him and into the city.

* * *

Raistlin woke in the mid-afternoon and sat up, noticing as he did so the residual muscle soreness, especially in his back when he arched it in a bit of an unnatural angle. He had a sneaky suspicion that Tanin had rather hoped he would have forgotten the entire thing, but unfortunately, Raistlin remembered every little painful detail of the seizure, as well as why he had one in the first place.

He stood, then waited for a wave of dizziness to subside. The busy activity outside today was much more than he was used to for a background noise level, and he found it annoying so he walked over and closed the shutters. After the dark descended he allowed himself a little sigh of relief. He had a particularly painful headache and found that too much light and too much noise too much to handle.

Using his Staff, he walked over to a chair and sat down in one before the fire, pulling his robes tight around him against a chill that resided more in his soul, his very being, than of actual coolness. Oh, he was far from cool, in fact, had he not fainted from the Sight, he might have collapsed from the heat, and he was still uncomfortably warm in that sense.

“Chaos,” he whispered. “Fools!”

Standing and looking into the ring, that although was not alight with blue fire, was still glowing brighter than it usually did. “Marion uth Maleste, Predecessor of the Blue Star, I call thee for audience.”

He turned a few seconds later after sensing her presence in the room to regard her.

This was the same ‘mysterious’ woman who had saved his life when he had been attacked by the Broken Tusk clan a little under a year ago. The same woman who had tutored him in his duty as Guardian and Miiro, the same who had carried the burden of the Blue Star before him. He was still bewildered as to why he had gained it, and not someone else who cared for the purpose that the damn thing be Guarded for, who wanted this responsibility.

Not that she had gleefully, when realizing Raistlin was also a Miiro, handed it over to him.

“Raistlin, Guardian, my Successor,” she said simply.

“Marion, Tutor, my Predecessor,” he greeted back. “You know.”

“I would be denying more than my blood if I did not,” she answered wryly, shrugged the many tiny braids that comprised her hair from her shoulders to behind her so that the entire mass rested on her back. “But I suspect you bore the brunt of it.”

“I may have,” he said. “I need your guidance, you are far more experienced in the Greater Balance than I. What should I do?”

She lifted a dark eyebrow, “Your duty.”

With that she disappeared again, and Raistlin sighed, “Well, that was useless...”

* * *

Tanin and Sturm came back later in the day, and Raistlin sat up in bed from the nap he was having as he heard them enter their room. They had left the door between rooms open, he supposed to hear him if he needed help in the night with his illness. The fit, which Raistlin knew was not caused by the heat, nor anything to do with the heat, had left him feeling a bit weak and he tired quickly. But that would pass... he hoped.

He stood up and straightened his hair and clothing a bit and walked to the door and leaned on the doorframe. They looked up, and Raistlin could see Tanin’s upset face before it was covered in concern. Even still, they were getting themselves ready and checking each other’s armor a bit too thoroughly for a simple day. “What is it?” he asked in concern.

“Kalaman is under attack,” answered Sturm. “They’re calling all capable fighters to the walls and the field to fend the Knights of Takhisis off. Oh, and Lord Gilthanas sends his greetings, Magus Palin Majere.”

This last was said with half an amused smirk, then Sturm was left with his mouth slack as his Uncle turned on his heel and walked into his own room. Tanin looked around the corner then started as he saw Raistlin struggling a bit with his own armor and equipment, checking his spell components, “Are you well enough to fight?”

“I shall have to be, Nephew,” came the stern answer, and Tanin just barely heard the next. “For all of existence.”

Tanin walked in and helped his Uncle balance out the leather armor. “Are you sure?” asked Sturm. “The heat did you in last time...”

“No, it did not, but I will have to explain after the battle,” said Raistlin once his armor was on completely.

They walked out, and had to gain their footing as an earthshaking explosion rocked the ground as a blue dragon flew over. Raistlin could just barely see the ride, but that was all he had to see. With a grim smile, he chanted and in mere seconds the spell launched and took the dragon in the left wing.

With a sense of satisfaction, he watched as the wing was all but dissolved as well as the entirety of the left side. It also took out whomever was riding the dragon as the dying beast screamed as it spiraled down to fall, its momentum carrying it out of the city and into the Dark Knight’s front line. As he ascended to the wall and looked over he saw that the massive dragon had only taken out a small portion of the front line.

“Oh no...” he breathed in disbelief.

The fields outside of Kalaman were full of an army, and more black ships. He realized that the black ships were what carried the Dark Knights to Kalaman. He leaned on the edge as he surveyed the situation. Even with the four thousand Solamnic Knights in the city, even with the extra mercenaries, they were outnumbered ten to one. Tanin came up behind him and said, “What are our chances?”

“Not good,” answered Raistlin darkly, then he called to the captain of the guard. “How many wizards are there in the city?”

“One, maybe two,” answered the guard. “Gilthanas, you, and one other.”

He let his head lean on his hands, “Gilthanas ever take the Test?”

“No, Master Majere, I did not,” came the elf’s voice from behind him. “You’ve grown.”

“You’ve got grey hair,” pointed out Raistlin.

Gilthanas shrugged, “So, now you see the situation. I know you have just passed the Test, so all I expect is your all. Perhaps Paladine will smile on us today.”

“I think Paladine is otherwise occupied, as well as the other Gods,” came Raistlin’s wry answer.
“We don’t have time for this...!”

Gilthanas looked at him in confusion, but said nothing. Finally a representative from the Knights
came forward, “We would wish to parley.”

“Speak!” called out Gilthanas.

“If you surrender, we will treat you as honorably as the Solamnic Knights. You will have stricter
laws, but they shall be fair. So long as you follow our Dark Queen,” said the man.

“In a rat’s ass,” muttered Raistlin’s with a snort. “Never have, never will...”

Gilthanas allowed himself a smile considering that he had been the only one that heard Raistlin’s
whisper. “The People of Kalaman follow Paladine, God of Good. Not the Queen of Darkness.”

“Then you shall die or be forced under our bootheel,” yelled the Knight. “If we next meet, it will
be with an iron collar on your neck, elf!”

Raistlin chanted a low spell and just as the Dark Knight joined the front line, his fireball went off
centered on the lead Knight. “Tell the Dark Queen that no Majere has ever followed her,” called
Raistlin clearly as he turned his ring out so that it was no longer hiding, and as he changed to the
golden skinned form he finished. “For I am sure she will remember me.”

Gilthanas stared at Raistlin in open-mouthed shock, as did the rest of the wall. On the wall, as it
was also whispered throughout the entire army of Takhisis, “Raistlin! It’s Raistlin! He’s the one
who challenged the Dark Queen, and won!”

He could sense the fear, could sense the disbelief of everyone, could even sense the Dark
Knight’s utter shock. Here was a man that even if he could not wipe out their entire army, he
could enough damage that the battle would not be worthwhile. He was also supposed to be evil,
but as they could clearly see, he did not wear black except for the leather breastplate and shoulder
and arm guards. He could see as the foot soldiers backed off a little.

His fireball had left only a singe mark where their spokesman had been, as well as taken out at
least a hundred feet of men and the blue-skinned brutes. Those who survived picked themselves
up and hobbled, usually with help, to healers within the ranks. Raistlin allowed himself a small
smile, but it fell off when the grey robed wizards started to appear. “Shit,” he swore, and he
turned to Gilthanas. “They have wizards of their own.”

“So I see,” came Gilthanas’ quiet reply.

In didn’t take long for another spokesperson to be appointed, this one out of the grey robes. An
authoritive woman yelled up, “Come down, Majere, and we will take the city as peacefully as
they will allow us to.”

“And if I don’t?” called out Raistlin.

“Then die as a traitor to your own Dark Queen!”

“Look who’s talking! Did I not see you at the last Conclave? But now you walk the path of
renegade, like I did,” Raistlin retorted. “No, Lillith, you are the traitor– to the Conclave!”

Raistlin mentally went through his spells, and a small smile lit on his face. “Come now, taste
true power from the one who challenged, and won!”

The parley ended, and the warriors advanced on the city’s walls. Raistlin didn’t waste time, and
immediately began chanting. As his fingers traced the first of his spells, the siege engines were
set on the walls, and the battle broke out. The first blue-skinned brute was climbing up a ladder
that had been set on the wall directly in front of him.

Tanin, who was just behind Raistlin, saw only his Uncle’s back and the head and upper torso of
the Brute. Suddenly, everything stopped and Raistlin started casting again... and again as the
spells kept going off. Tanin counted ten spells before time started again. Well, that was handy,
reflected Tanin as he attacked the really surprised Brute as the ten spells then went off.

Everyone outside the affected areas were shocked to their core when first the Knights seemed to
drop, suddenly dehydrated and dying. Then a cloud of poison covered the beach and killed those
on the ships. At the same time in another area a cloud of fire ripped through their camp. Much
to Tanin and Sturm’s surprise, Meteor Swarm made an appearance at the bottom of the ladders
where the siege engines bases were and collapsed them. The Brute disappeared from sight as he
was unceremoniously dropped to the ground.

But, considering that Tanin couldn’t begin to describe the other seven spells cast, those on the
wall cheered as the Dark Army lost a quarter of their strength in less than thirty seconds. The
Knights of Takhisis fell back, saw that there was nothing left of their ships, and dug themselves
in for their battle.

In barely an instant, those who brought a siege had become the besieged.

* * *

Nightlord Lillith, the leader of the Knights of the Thorn, had heard legends of Raistlin Majere,
even had modeled herself after him. She had always dreamed of possessing his power and
influence. To be at the receiving end of his magic was a bit unsettling.

A bit? she mused. More like extremely. More like terrifying.

But what power! He was everything the tales had said he was, and much more. Now that she
had time to think and meditate, she was absolutely obsessed. She had seen the wizard before he
had made himself known to everyone... and paid little attention to him other than he carried a
unique and familiar Staff. She did not see it clearly from where she had been, but the dark hair
whipping in the wind... then the silvery white hair...

She closed her eyes and imagined him standing at her side under the banner of the Dark Queen.
It was too bad, really. If he had come down and submitted, the Dark Knighthood could have
taken Ansalon in a matter of months, not years as they suspected it would take. His power
harnessed to the Dark Queen’s sway would wipe out the Solamnic Order.

But there he was, one of them. It was enough to make her blood burn in rage if her blood didn’t
burn with dreams of power and with him as the key...

* * *

Once the siege engines had been repulsed, Raistlin finally gave into the exhaustion and sat down
hard on the stone wall, leaning against the wall as he did so. Tanin and Sturm knelt at either side
in concern, “Uncle, did an arrow catch you?”

Gilthanas snorted, “They didn’t even get a chance to fire any arrows, it was over that fast. He
took out their archers first. No, he’s exhausted from casting that much of his magic.”

They lifted Raistlin to his nerveless feet, where he said, “Gilthanas has a point. I think I may
have even gone through some of my cantrips...”

Tanin supported Raistlin as he walked down the stairs unsteadily, taking a few breaks as Raistlin
sat down on them a few times, to, as he said, “Let me catch my breath.”

After the fifth time as they reached the bottom, Raistlin finally crumpled into Tanin’s arms.
Sturm helped support him, and asked, “Is he all right?”

“Just sleeping,” pointed out Gilthanas as they could barely hear Raistlin’s soft, but deep,
breathing, almost softly snoring so soundly was his slumber in Tanin’s arms. “He’ll probably
sleep most of tomorrow.”

And he did sleep. Raistlin was laid down in his bed again as Tanin stripped his armor, boots and
the heavy cloak and tunic off before pulling the bedcovers up over his shoulders. Raistlin
seemed to sink into the bed so that only his white hair was seen from out from under the covers.
Sturm pulled the curtains so that the room was plunged into darkness. They slid out and into
their own room, pulling the door mostly shut as to prevent most of the light from their room from
disturbing their Uncle’s rest. Tanin looked out at the vaguely confused citizenry. “That battle
should have taken a day, maybe more,” pointed out Sturm. “They don’t understand how it ended
so fast.”

“It’s not over yet,” pointed Tanin. “They will, somehow, given the fact that they have their own
wizards, recoup. And they have dragons.”

Neither of them had to mention the dragon that Raistlin had near effortlessly taken down,
complete with the rider. “Not to deny the serious dent in their forces,” admitted Tanin, before
turning to Sturm with shining eyes. “But wasn’t that something to see! Imagine, most people
before now only considered him a legend and never saw his true power. But we saw him today,
and what he can do. Now, imagine if we combined him with say, a hundred Knights, what we
could have done to that army out there?”

Sturm compressed his lips into a concerned line, although his eyes held the same awed shine,
“Careful, brother, he’s still one man, and look at the aftermath. He can’t even form two coherent
words let alone stand and fight. And he only took out a quarter of their forces and the supply and
reinforcement line. Although, that was rather clever...”

“He’s a war wizard, Sturm,” pointed out Tanin. “He knows where to hit them to do the most
damage. Did you see their faces when he revealed who he was? Oh, now there’s a picture I
would like...”

Sturm mimicked a few of the faces, and they snickered. Suddenly they stopped, Sturm then said,
“Uh, you do realize that everyone is going to know from here back to Solace what happened, and
it’s likely going to be embellished with stupid things...”

They fell silent, but their smiles widened, and Tanin said, “There’s our fame, Sturm. We fight at
the side of the most powerful war wizard ever...”

* * *

A middle aged man flew through the night on the back of the large blue dragon. He and the
dragon had been flying together for nearly fifteen years, and he still was struck with awe at the
incredible height at which they soared. He looked down at where he had been sent. The blue
dragon, protected by spells of non-detection, landed softly in the Dark Knight’s encampment. He
was greeted by the de facto general, the Nightlord Lillith. Saluting each other in respect, the
Knight of the Lily asked, “What happened here?”

“A wizard on the side of Kalaman happened,” answered Lillith. “Raistlin Majere.”

“Isn’t he dead?” asked the surprised Steel Brightblade.

“He’s supposed to be, but, he is one that is never where he should be, nor doing what is expected
of him,” she pointed out with a barely hidden sneer. “As you should well know.”

“Never assume that because I happen to be related that I understand them,” said Steel. “So, how
do you plan to take Kalaman?”

“With magic,” she answered matter of factly. “Archmagus Majere will be exhausted, too
exhausted to be of any help to either side. We will press the attack and I will lead a small team
of Knights of the Thorn and Lily to capture the Lord of the City, as well as their ‘sudden’
benefactor. Our Queen has given me a Vision: I am to take Raistlin into custody and remind him
of his duty to our Dark Queen. If he does not submit, then I am to take him to the portal and
sacrifice him to Takhisis, thereby opening the portal and letting our Dark Queen enter Krynn and
ensuring her complete victory.”

“I have a feeling that he will be sacrificed, then,” grumbled Steel, half to himself. “From what I
hear of him, he will not submit.”

The Nightlord smiled darkly, “We shall see. I can be convincing when I wish to be...”

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Yeah, yeah, cliffhangers suck. Consider it revenge for everyone making cliffhangers on us, lol.