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. To make it serve you,
not the other way around."
Looking up, Palin saw a gentleness in the arch-mage's
face, a gentleness few in the world had ever seen. The
image of the young man in the black robes faded from the
glittering golden eyes, replaced by a yearning, a hunger for
love. Now it was Palin who reached out and clasped hold of
Raistlin's hand. "Close the Portal, uncle!" the young man
pleaded. "Come home and live with us! The room my father
built for you is still there, in the Inn. My mother has kept
the plaque with the wizard's mark on it! It is hidden in a
chest of rosewood, but I've seen it. I've held it and dreamed
of this so often! Come home! Teach me what you know! I
would honor you, revere you! We could travel, as you said.
Show me the wonders your eyes have seen. . . ."
"Home." The word lingered on Raistlin's lips as though
he were tasting it. "Home. How often I dreamed of it"-his
golden-eyed gaze went to the wall, shining with its ghastly
light-"especially with the coming of dawn. . . ."
Then, glancing at Palin from within the shadows of his
hood, Raistlin smiled. "Yes, nephew," he said softly. "I
believe I will come home with you. I need time to rest, to
recover my strength, to rid myself of ... old dreams." Palin
saw the eyes darken with remembered pain.
Coughing, Raistlin motioned the young man to help him.
Carefully, Palin leaned the staff against the wall and
assisted Raistlin to the chair
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