He could only listen, his heart pounding in over shy;whelming awe.
"You will go to Sanction, and there you will work in my name. You will be my servant, as this woman was my servant-as the moneychanger Habbar-Akuk is my servant, and a thousand others who are my agents.
"And you, of them all, shall sit at my right, Lord Aria-kas-this I know, and I pledge."
"But-why did she die? Why did you make me kill her?"
"Fool!" The fury of the retort sent him reeling back shy;ward, flailing for balance. "She was a tool-her purpose was to find you and to begin your training. Know this, Lord Ariakas: for as long as you live, as the gift of my generosity and the price of my favor, you shall have any woman you want-but each woman who gives herself to you shall perish within the year! As with this lady-her purpose will be done, her time past. But for you, Lord Ariakas-your time is just beginning!"
Ariakas tried not to succumb to his awe. His mind reeled between dark visions of horror, and wild fantasies of erotic fulfillment. She would offer him one and make the other her price… and yet, he knew that he would be willing to pay.
"Why do you send me to Sanction? What do you expect of me?"
"In that great city you shall go to my highest temple. They will know you there, and teach you. … In time, you shall become my exalted-first among my high-lords! But you have much to learn first, and they will teach you in the temple."
"They already expect me?" wondered the warrior in disbelief.
"You carry my talisman in that sword," replied the five-headed serpent with a hint of rebuke. "That blade will be the key to your teachings and the tool of your success. It shall serve you as faithfully as you serve me."
Ariakas looked at the pure white blade, impressed in spite of himself with the flawless perfection of the sheen. "This talisman … what does it do?"
"You shall find out when you need it," the vision replied. "But remember this command, Lord Ariakas- and keep it close to your heart, lest in the end you fail me." Here the words took on a deep and rhythmic tone, and the force of the command riveted Ariakas to the spot. "This sword is my symbol, and with it you shall rule over vast hosts! But remember this thing, if you would achieve your lasting glory: Hold the blue blade, war shy;rior-for in the heart of the world it shall set fire to the sky!"
His mind reeled with the import of the words, though they mystified him-and he dared not ask for explana shy;tion. Instead he bowed in humble acceptance.
"Tell me, then," he inquired instead, forcing every measure of his courage into the words. "Who are you- whom do I serve?"
"I am known by many names . . . but when I have made my return, I will choose to share the one by which all Krynn shall know me. You, noble warrior, will pave the path of that return!"
"But what is your name?" demanded Ariakas.
"You shall call me Takhisis," hissed the crimson ser shy;pent while the four other heads chortled in agreement. "But within your lifetime all Krynn shall tremble before me! And the masses will know and fear me everywhere as the Queen of Darkness!"
PART TWO
Corruption
Chapter 10
City of Smoke and Fire
Perhaps because it stood on the brink of destruction, Sanction was a city more vibrant, more alive, than any place Aria-kas had ever been. As he sat on a bench in his garden, slightly uphill of his sprawling, many-roomed house, he looked at the volcanic Lords of Doom and felt a great sense of awe … and destiny.
Below him, Sanction filled the steep-sided valley that lay between the three great volcanoes and a steaming, lava-scarred harbor. The waterfront faced a finger of the Newsea that dared to probe into the forbidding Doom-range. The fiery mountains smoked and rumbled, dor shy;mant only to the extent that they did not now spew flame and rock into the sky.
Great cracks on the face of the northeastern summit emitted twin rivers of slow, remorseless lava into the val shy;ley. The widest of these streams was joined by flaming spillage from the southern mountain, creating the great Lavaflow River. Dull crimson, the molten rock seethed and bubbled through the heart of the city. The flow was spanned in several places by wide stone bridges. At night, Ariakas found the massive, inexorable river strangely compelling. Then its radiance reflected from the glowering cloud cover-an ever-present mix of sea mist and volcanic ash, casting the city in an eerie and pervasive light.
The waterfront was a steamy, stinking collection of buildings smashed shoulder to shoulder like patrons pushing into a crowded tavern. Numerous small ships filled the wharves and docks, the lot nestled between two natural breakwaters formed of hardened lava. Beyond the breakwaters to either side sprawled flat, steaming deltas of fiery fury, boiling water hissing away from contact with the slowly expanding shelf of liquid rock.
Around this sweltering waterfront sprawled alleys and courtyards, great manor houses and teeming slums. Even the marketplace of Khuri-Khan paled in compari shy;son to several of the thriving bazaars in Sanction. As the only natural harbor in the entire eastern expanse of the Newsea, Sanction drew restless souls like a magnet. It also stood at the terminus of the only road through the Khalkist Mountains. This wide valley opened onto a pass between Sanction and cities to the north and east- productive mercantile centers such as Neraka and Kala-man. This valley and port linked to form the only connection between eastern and western Ansalon.
The population of Sanction was far and away the most diverse gathering Ariakas had ever seen. Tall plainsmen from Abanasinia traveled with painted Kagonesti elves, while humans from Solamnia sold all manner of goods to merchants from places as far as Neraka and Balifor, or even bartered with minotaurs, Kayolin dwarves, and an occasional, regal Silvanesti elf. The scampering kender were ubiquitous. Other short folk-smaller even than kender or dwarves-went about the city cloaked in dark robes. Ariakas noticed that many citizens gave these robed midgets a wide berth.
From a distance, most of the buildings of Sanction blended into a melange of brown, black, and gray blocks. A great plaza sprawled along the riverbank, rended by steaming fissures and chasms. Several noble manors stood on higher slopes, crowning the city's skyline. One of these now belonged to Ariakas: in Sanction, nobility was purely a matter of wealth, and Ariakas was a very wealthy man indeed. In fact, after only three days in this metropolis, the warrior had gained for himself all the trappings of nobility, most obviously symbolized by this splendid manor on the southern heights of Sanction valley.
Three structures in the city loomed proud and solitary over even the great villas and mansions, bowing only to the mighty volcanoes themselves. These were the Great Temples, of which Ariakas had heard a little. Built at the time of the Cataclysm on the lower slopes of each Lord of Doom, the temples consisted of walls, buildings, and subterranean chambers. Each was an impregnable fortress, and each held commanding position over a great section of the city. The mightiest, the Temple of Luerkhisis, stood to the northeast.
Upon entering Sanction, however, Ariakas had been strangely reluctant to approach the great temple. Instead, he immediately sought the moneychangers, several of whom bid frantically for the locket and gems. By night shy;fall of his first day he had been a rich man, and by the next day he had purchased a grand house.
The stone-walled residence consisted of two dozen large, airy rooms gathered around a teak-lined great hall, the whole ringed by a perimeter of balconies and columns. Outside, a wide courtyard encircled two sides, with a large stable in another direction and the once-lush garden to the rear. The fountains in the courtyards had been dry for years, and the hedges reduced to tinder-brush and thistle, but Ariakas had plans to restore the place to its former glory. And still the garden offered wide walkways and several good views, overlooking much of the lava-ravaged city.