Dragonlance 02 - Dragons of Winter Night

I
N THE INN OF THE RED DRAGON
 …

“Do not fear, knight. The lives of those you leave in our care are safe … if any are safe.… Farewell, my friends,” Raistlin hissed, his strange hourglass eyes gleaming. “And a long farewell it will be. Some of us are not destined to meet again in this world!” With that, he bowed and, gathering his red robes around him, began to climb the stairs.

Trust Raistlin to exist with a flourish, Tanis thought irritably, but there was no more time for talk. The sound of booted feet was nearing the door.

“Go on!” he ordered Caramon. “If he’s right, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

The world grows more dangerous, and now the heroes have been separated. This dark prediction and even darker dreams haunt them as they search for the mysterious dragon orbs and the legendary dragonlance
.

T
he winter winds raged outside, but within the caverns of the mountain dwarves beneath the Kharolis Mountains, the fury of the storm was not felt. As the Thane called for silence among the assembled dwarves and humans, a dwarven bard stepped forward to do homage to the companions.

Song of the Nine Heroes

From the north came danger, as we knew it would:
In the vanguard of winter, a dragon’s dance
Unraveled the land, until out of the forest,
Out of the plains they came, from the mothering earth,
The sky unreckoned before them.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

One from a garden of stone arising,
From dwarf-halls, from weather and wisdom,
Where the heart and mind ride unquestioned
In the untapped vein of the hand.
In his fathering arms, the spirit gathered.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

One from a haven of breezes descending,
Light in the handling air,
To the waving meadows, the kender’s country,
Where the grain out of smallness arises itself
To grow green and golden and green again.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

The next from the plains, the long land’s keeping,
Nurtured in distance, horizons of nothing.
Bearing a staff she came, and a burden
Of mercy and light converged in her hand:
Bearing the wounds of the world, she came.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

The next from the plains, in the moon’s shadow,
Through custom, through ritual, trailing the moon
Where her phases, her wax and her wane, controlled
The tide of his blood, and his warrior’s hand
Ascended through hierarchies of space into light.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

One within absences, known by departures,
The dark swordswoman at the heart of fire:
Her glories the space between words,
The cradlesong recollected in age,
Recalled at the edge of awakening and thought.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

One in the heart of honor, formed by the sword,
By the centuries’ flight of the kingfisher over the land,
By Solamnia ruined and risen, rising again
When the heart ascends into duty.
As it dances, the sword is forever an heirloom.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

The next in a simple light a brother to darkness,
Letting the sword hand try all subtleties,
Even the intricate webs of the heart. His thoughts
Are pools disrupted in changing wind—
He cannot see their bottom.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,

Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

The next the leader, half-elven, betrayed
As the twining blood pulls asunder the land,
The forests, the worlds of elves and men.
Called into bravery, but fearing for love,
And fearing that, called into both, he does nothing.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

The last from the darkness, breathing the night
Where the abstract stars hide a nest of words,
Where the body endures the wound of numbers,
Surrendered to knowledge, until, unable to bless,
His blessing falls on the low, the benighted.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

Joined by others they were in the telling:
A graceless girl, graced beyond graces;
A princess of seeds and saplings, called to the forest;
An ancient weaver of accidents;
Nor can we say who the story will gather.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.

From the north came danger, as we knew it would:
In encampments of winter, the dragon’s sleep
Has settled the land, but out of the forest,
Out of the plains they come, from the mothering earth
Defining the sky before them.
Nine they were, under the three moons
,
Under the autumn twilight:
As the world declined, they arose
Into the heart of the story
.