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."
"Algenon is TOO good," Par-Salian snorted. "He has never
known torment or suffering or evil. Set him in a cold, biting wind
and he will wither like a maiden's first rose. But Raistlin-well,
one who constantly battles evil within will not be overly dismayed
by evil without."
Raistlin heard chairs scrape. Par-Salian stood up.
"Let's not argue. I was given a choice to make and I have made
it," Par-Salian said.
"Forgive me. Great One, I did not mean to be contradictory,"
the master said stiffly, hurt.
Raistlin heard Par-Salian sigh wearily. "I should be the one to
apologize, old friend," he said. "Forgive me. There is trouble
coming upon us that the world may not survive. This choice has
been a heavy burden upon me. As you know, the Test may well
prove fatal to the young man."
"It has killed others more worthy," the master murmured.
Their conversation turned to other matters, so Raistlin crept
away.
The young mage considered Par-Salian's words many times
during the weeks that followed while he prepared for his journey.
Sometimes he would hug himself with pride at being chosen by
the Great One to take the Test-the greatest honor conferred on a
magician. But, at night, the words may WELL PROVE FATAL
haunted his dreams.
He thought, as he drew nearer and nearer the Towers, about
those who had not survived. Their belongings had been returned to
their families, without a single word (other than Par-Salian's
regrets)
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