Fistandantilus Reborn - Douglas Niles [55]
In my own case, sadly, I passed the better part of a decade pursuing my studies devoutly, yet failed to so much as stir the dust in the library by means of magic. It was as if a light, a discernible spark, was glowing in the spirit of each of the other monks. In my case, however, the ember had been long ago doused, and so thoroughly soaked that it could never be relit.
In the course of my academic accomplishments, however, I did manage to make such a name for myself (or so I was told by the masters and Patriarch Grimbriar himself) that it drew even the attention of Your Excellency. It was the matter of my writing, of course, and not my faith that resulted in this notice. Specifically it was the study of Fistandantilus, the topic that became such a focal point of my early research.
The archmage of the black robe, so utterly corrupt and yet so immortally powerful, was a figure unlike any other in the long history of Krynn. His was a story full of contradictions and indeed is one of the powerful side currents wherein the River of Time goes through such tumultuous cascades in order to draw the various streams together. The tale began in the mists of ancient times and carries through the present, and it even, during the future that is my past, bears a relevance to the ongoing course of the great river.
Too, it is a tale that is known to be entwined with another of history’s great figures, the archmage Raistlin Majere. In plaoes, in fact, the currents of the two arch-mages in the stream of history seem to run together, mingling in such a fashion that they are truly indistinguishable.
It was my choice to make the study of Fistandantilus my first area of specialization. I derived great pleasure during those years in the monastery in tracing the accounts of the archmage’s presence in, this or that portion of Ansalon, during times when he was active, times when he was dormant, and even during epochs when it seemed that he was in two places at once!
I did a bit of traveling in the course of these studies, most notably a journey to Haven in 370-371, where I unearthed key details. There you will remember that I did (or should I say “I will”?) unearth the first mention of Kelryn Dare-wind, though at my first encounter, I did not learn the name of the false high priest.
And there was a great deal that had been written about my subject, enough to keep me occupied for those years of research. (Forgive me, Excellency, if I now dare to think that my own body of work has significantly expanded that material, that it might provide months or years of inspiration to the diligent student historian who might someday follow in my tracks!) Yet inevitably I reached a time when I had exhausted the available sources. And still I had displayed no aptitude for the casting of even the most basic spells of clerical magic. In truth, it seemed that my aspirations toward the priesthood were destined to end in failure.
It was in the spirit of a last chance that Patriarch Grim-briar and my own tutors at last called me into their presence. I remember still the flickering tapers casting yellow beams of light through the dark, lofty library. My heart was hammering, for I feared that I was to be dismissed as a failure, sent from the place to make my way in the world as one who could not find his true calling.
Instead, my mentor, Falstar Kane, opened the meeting by giving me a gift. The Book of Learning, it was, and I well recognized the treasure that I held and the level of trust that the temple hierarchy had placed in me.
I opened the enchanted tome and was confronted with a blank page. I knew enough of the meaning to wait expectantly for the further words of the masters. (Of the book, more later.) “We have decided, Foryth, that your learning must continue along a different path than it has to date,” Falstar Kane declared, his tone