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. He did not treat it seriously or
respectfully. Caramon had met neither man nor monster that could
not be handled by the sword. Therefore, he could not understand
this dangerous trip his brother was undertaking for the sake of his
magic.
"It's all parlor tricks, Raist," Caramon protested. "Riding into
that forsaken land is nothing to risk our lives over."
Raistlin replied gently-he always spoke gently to Caramon-
that he was determined on this course of action for reasons of his
own and that Cannon could come if he so chose. Of course,
Caramon went. The two had rarely been separated from one
another since birth.
The journey was long and hazardous. Carmen's sword was
frequently drawn. Raistlin felt his strength ebbing. They were near
the end now. Raistlin rode in silence, oppressed with the doubt and
fear that shrouded him as it had when he first decided on this
course of action. Perhaps Caramon was right, perhaps he was
risking their lives needlessly.
It had been three months ago when the Head of the Order
arrived at his master's home. Par-Salian had invited Raistlin to
visit with him as he dined-much to the master's surprise.
"When do you take the Test, Raistlin?" the old man asked the
young conjurer.
"Test?" Raistlin repeated, startled. No need to ask which
Test-there was only one.
"He is not ready, Par-Salian," his master protested. "He is
young-only twenty-one! His spellbook is far from complete-"
"Yes," Par-Salian interrupted, his eyes narrowing
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