Another was also a young man, but he was not handsome. He was grotesque. His face was as round as a moon,

his eyes were dry, dark and empty wells. He was dressed in black robes, and he held in his hands a crystal orb,

inside which swirled the heads of five dragons: red, green, blue, white, and black.

Standing between the two was a beautiful young woman. Her hair was as black as the crow's wing, streaked with

white. Her robes were as red as blood. She held, in her arms, a large leather-bound book.

The three were vastly different, strangely alike.

"Do you know who we are?" asked the man in white. Raistlin nodded hesitantly He knew them. He wasn't quite

sure he understood why or how.

"You pray to us, yet many speak our names with their lips only, not their hearts. Do you truly believe in us?"

asked the woman in red.

Raistlin considered this question. "You came to me, didn't you?" he answered.

The glib answer displeased the god of light and the god of darkness. The man with the moon face grew colder, and

the

man in white looked grim. The woman in red was pleased with him, however. She smiled.

Solinari spoke sternly. "You are very young. Do you understand the promise you have made to us? The promise to

worship us and glorify our names? To do so will go against the beliefs of many, may put you into mortal danger."

"I understand," Raistlin answered without hesitation.

Nuitari spoke next, his voice like splinters of ice. "Are you prepared to make the sacrifices we will require of you?"

"I am prepared," Raistlin answered steadily, adding, but only to himself, after all, what more can you demand of

me that I have not already given?

The three heard his unspoken response. Solinari shook his head. Nuitari wore a most sinister grin.

Lunitari's laughter danced through Raistlin, exhilarating, disturbing. "You do not understand. And if you could

foresee what will be asked of you in the future, you would run from this place and never come back. Still, we have

watched you and we have been impressed with you. We grant your re quest on one condition. Remember always that

you have seen us and spoken to us. Never deny your faith in us, or we will deny you."

The three globes of light coalesced into one, looking very much like an eye, with a white rim, a red iris, a black

pupil. The eye blinked once and then remained wide open, staring.

The wordsI, Magus were all he could see, black on white lamb's skin.

"Are you ill, Raistlin?" The master's voice, as through a dank fog.

"Shut up!" Raistlin breathed. Doesn't the fool know they are here? Doesn't he know they are watching, waiting?

"I, Magus."Raistlin whispered the words aloud. Black on white, he imbued them with his heart's blood.

The black letters began to glow red, like the sword resting in the blacksmith's forge fire. The letters burned hotter

and brighter until I, Magus was traced in letters of flame. The lamb's skin blackened, curled in upon itself, was

consumed. The fire died.

Raistlin, exhausted, sagged on his stool. On the stone table before him was nothing but a charred spot and bits of

greasy ash. Inside him burned a fire that would never be quenched, perhaps not even in death.

He heard a noise, a sort of strangled croak.

Master Theobald, Gordo, and Jon Farnish were all staring at him, wide-eyed and openmouthed.

Raistlin slid off his stool, made a polite bow to the master. "May I be excused now, sir?"

Theobald nodded silently, unable to speak. He would later tell the story at the conclave, tell of the remarkable

test performed by one of his young pupils, relate how the lamb's skin had been devoured by the flames. Theobald

added, with due modesty, that it was his skill as a teacher that had undoubtedly inspired his young pupil, wrought

such a miracle.

Antimodes would make a special point to inform Par-Salian, who noted the incident with an asterisk next to

Raistlin's name in the book where he kept a list of every student of magic in Ansalon.

That night, when the others were asleep, Raistlin wrapped himself in his thick cloak and slipped outside.

The snow had stopped falling. The stars and moons were scattered like a rich lady's jewels across the black

sky. Solinari was a shining diamond. Lunitari a bright ruby. Nuitari, ebony and onyx, could not be seen, but he

was there. He was there.

The snow glistened white and pure and untouched in the lambent light of stars and moons. The trees cast