Test of the Twins

Afterword

And so, our travels in Krynn have come to an end.

We know that this will disappoint many of you, who have been hoping that our adventures in this wonderful land would last forever. But, as Tasslehoff’s mother might say, “There comes a time when you have to toss out the cat, lock up the door, put the key under the mat, and start off down the road.”

Of course, the key will always remain under the doormat (provided no other kender move into town), and we are not discounting the possibility that someday we might journey down this road in search of that key. But we have Tas’s magical time-traveling device in our pouches now (fortunately for Krynn!), and there are more worlds we are eager to explore before we return to this one.

We had no idea, when the DRAGONLANCE project was started, that it would be as successful as it has been. There are many reasons for this, but the main one, I think, is that we had a truly great team working on the project. From the writers to the artists to the game designers to the editors—everyone on the DRAGONLANCE team cared about their work and went above and beyond the call of duty to make certain it succeeded. Tracy says that—somewhere—Krynn really exists and that all of us have been there. We know this is true, because it is so hard saying good-bye.

Speaking of saying good-bye, we first realized the depth of feeling readers had for our characters and our world we had created when we received the outpouring of letters regarding the death of Sturm.

“I know Sturm doesn’t mean anything to you!” one distraught reader wrote. “After all, he’s just a figment of your imagination.”

Of course, he was much more than that to us. Spending so much time with our characters, they become very real to us, too. We triumph with them, grieve with them, and mourn them. We did not “kill” Sturm arbitrarily. The noble Knight of Solamnia was intended to be a tragic hero from the first inception of the project. Death is a part of life, it is a part we all face and must learn to deal with—even our happy-go-lucky kender.

Sturm’s death is foreshadowed in the first book by the Forestmaster, who looks directly at the knight when she says, “We do not mourn the loss of those who die fulfilling their destinies.” Sturm’s brave sacrifice forces the knights to reexamine their values and eventually provides the means to unite them. Sturm died as he lived—courageously, with honor, serving others. His memory lives for those who loved him, just as the light of the Starjewel beams in the darkness. Many times, when his friends are troubled or facing a dangerous situation, the memory of the knight returns to them, giving them strength and courage.

We knew that Flint’s death would have a sad impact on Tasslehoff and, indeed, we wept more for Tas when Flint died than we did for the old dwarf, who had led a rich, full life. But something in Tas changed forever (and for the better) when he lost his gruff but tender-hearted friend. This, too, was a necessary change (though Tanis would add here that some things never change—kender among them!). But we knew that Tas would have to face a rough road in the second trilogy. We knew he would need strength and, most of all, compassion to come through it.

We always hoped we would have a chance to tell Caramon’s and Raistlin’s story, even when we were still working on the first trilogy. When writing the short story, “Test of the Twins,” we had the vague outlines in mind of what would eventually become the second trilogy. LEGENDS grew in scope and depth even as we worked on CHRONICLES, and therefore it was quite simple to just keep traveling down the road with those of our characters who still needed us.

It was important to us to show in LEGENDS a quest that was not so much involved with saving a world as it was (as Par-Salian says) with saving a soul. Everyone believed that it was Raistlin’s s soul we referred to, but, of course, it was his twin’s. The archmage had already doomed himself. The only thing that saves him at the end is his brother’s love and that small spark of caring in his own heart that even the darkness within him cannot completely extinguish.

But now this road has brought us, as all roads must eventually, to a parting. We authors are traveling down one path, our characters another. We feel confident we can leave them now. They don’t need us anymore. Caramon has found the inner resources he needs to cope with life. He and Tika will have many sons and daughters, and we would be surprised if at least one doesn’t become a mage.

Undoubtedly Caramon’s children will join with Tanis’s one son (a quiet, introspective youth) and with Riverwind’s and Goldmoon’s golden-haired twins in some adventure or other. They might possibly try to discover whatever became of Gilthanas and Silvara. They might journey to the united elven kingdom, brought together at last by Alhana and Porthios, who do—after all—come to develop a deep and enduring love for each other. They may meet up with Bupu’s children (she married the Highbulp when he wasn’t looking) or they might even travel for a while with “Grandpa” Tasslehoff.

Astinus will chronicle these adventures, of course, even if we do not. And you who are role-playing the DRAGONLANCE games will undoubtedly come to know more about the further adventures than we will. At any rate, you will continue, we hope, to have a marvelous time in t hat fabled land. But we must be on our way.

We shake hands with Tas (who is snuffling again) and bid him goodbye (checking our pouches first, of course, and relieving Tas of the many personal possessions we have unaccountably “dropped”). Then we watch as the kender goes skipping down the road, his topknot bobbing, and we imagine that we can see him—in the distance—meet up with an old, befuddled wizard, who is wandering about looking for his lost hat—which is on his head.

And then they vanish from our sight. With a sigh, we turn and walk down the new road that beckons us onward.