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"No." Par-Salian smiled. "The final of the Test was the defeat
of the dark elf-truly superb for one of your experience."
Raistlin looked at his brother's haunted face, his averted eyes.
"He watched me kill him, didn't he?" Raistlin whispered.
"Yes," Par-Salian looked from one to the other. "I am sorry I
had to do this to you, Raistlin. You have much to learn, mage-
mercy, compassion, forebear-ance. It is my hope that the trials
you face ahead of you will teach you what you lack now. If not,
you will succumb in the end to the fate your master foresaw. But,
as of now, you and your brother truly know each other. The
barriers between you have been battered down, though I am afraid
each of you has suffered wounds in the encounter. I hope the scars
make you stronger."
Par-Salian rose to leave. "Use your powers well, mage. The
time is close at hand when your strength must save the world."
Raistlin bowed his head and sat in silence until Par-Salian had
left the room. Then he stood up, staggered, and nearly fell.
Caramon jumped forward to help him, but Raistlin, clinging to
the wooden staff, caught himself. Fighting the pain and dizziness
that assailed him, Raistlin's golden-eyed gaze met that of his twin.
Caramon hesitated . . . and stopped.
Raistlin sighed. Then, leaning on the Staff of Ma-gius, the
young mage pulled himself upright and walked, slowly and with
faltering steps, out the door
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