Of all the fantasy characters that contributed to my childhood sense of what a magician could be, Fistandantilus from the Dragonlance saga was most influential. Enigmatic and powerful, he ruled from the shadows, had the magic to live forever, and his subtle presence is felt throughout the six primary novels of the series. In a sense, the entire Dragonlance timeline could be said to be the history of Fistandantilus, if indirectly and circuitously expressed.
None of his attributes, by themselves, could have fully captured my young imagination. After all, I had the Empire Strikes Back version of Emperor Palpatine, Gandalf and Saruman, Thulsa Doom, and many other arcane mysterious wizard characters from comic books, movies, and fantasy novels to think about. But the complete epic of a wizard so gifted, so accomplished, and so obsessed with magic that he'd found a way to cheat death—well, that was something.
In the picture above, we see him holding the bloodstone he would periodically use to steal the life force of his apprentices and thereby live forever. Vampiric in nature but scholarly and even charismatic at times, Fistandantilus was beyond good and evil. He was the ultimate survivor, the ultimate artist, unimpressed by natural law, committed to his life's work. Little did I know that he would become the first and most vivid metaphor for who I would be later in life.
Children's books can be potent that way, offering seemingly innocuous templates and patterns that take root in the mind. Fantasy archetypes, in particular, can influence life far into adulthood. Though I loved Raistlin and the other Heroes of the Lance, Fistandantilus was the character who spoke to me longest and most persuasively. To some extent, I think he's always been a guide.
So it isn't surprising that earlier, during an ostensibly unrelated pathworking, I encountered his spell book. It was just as I remembered it from the novels: midnight-blue with silver runes and cold to the touch. I opened it and had a vision of my younger self reading one of the novels and then my older self at a time when I'd let mundane troubles make me forget the imaginative world of my childhood. It was a message from my Self to my self—a personal rune, a mystery, a doorway. And I know exactly what the message is.
I fully intend to step through that doorway to magic and wonder again, unifying my younger and older selves, much the way Fistandantilus, the elder mage, and Raistlin, his younger analogue, eventually came together as one being. Imagination is the key to this door. Visualization turns the key. Wraith force (chi, prana, reiki, pneuma, aether) pushes it open. And beyond? I can't describe it. You have to see it for yourself.