Raistlin frowned after a thorough inspection and cataloguing of his new home- The Palanthas Tower of High Sorcery. Although there was plenty of knowledge that had been lost since the Cataclysm (and rediscovered by him), barely any of it was related to Fistandantilus. The young archmage frowned. He would have to hunt down that information on his own later.

The most pressing matter on hand was a way to keep in touch with the world, keep current on events, and spy on those who would plot against him or events that would affect him. Yes, Raistlin had made many enemies, including the Conclave. He would have to increase and concentrate his powers: political, magical, and temporal.

The Conclave would be bound to send a spy as his apprentice for Raistlin would need an apprentice eventually; it was a matter of when. Raistlin would accept the apprentice and send him plodding back to his superiors with enough information to keep the Conclave guessing.

There would be assassins, attempts to thwart him, and such, but he would need to be prepared without leaving his Tower.

What better way than a magical artifact that allowed him to see where ever he wished?

A magical window or mirror.

Yes.

But in what shape? What dimensions or proportions?

Raistlin Majere sat down at an ancient, ornate, and priceless wooden desk that had been recently dusted off. His long gold fingers drummed on the burnable material, the tapping was the only sound in the lonely destitute tower. One of his hands unconsciously spun the Staff of Magius idly.

This was indeed a problem.

If things were not going according to plan, Raistlin needed a way to alter the situation slightly to nudge the plot back on track, meaning he needed a liquid surface to the magical window. The mirror also required light, a long-lasting light that would remain nearby at all times so Raistlin would not have to expand energy lighting the room over and over. Lastly, the mirror was required to extend its magical eye to every shadowed corner of Ansalon and beyond- to other dimensions and worlds.

The project would consume massive amounts of time, research, and magic, but it would be worth it.

In the end, it would be worth it all- the price he paid, this unsound body, the infernal cough- everything.

For Raistlin had an ultimate design above all others: daring, bold, and never achieved, but not impossible.

He pondered and puzzled, designing and discarding ideas, and picked out a suitable room located near the bowels of the Tower. The room would be called the Seeing Room. He furnished the room with torches only meant for the beginning stages of building the window and for the end, when only two torches would be required.

Raistlin, at the end of the month, smiled softly as he gazed down at the plans for the window.

It was a large pool filled with magical brackish water, a pale blue, seemingly other-worldly flame like a candle that would hover above the waters at all times; but the flame cast no light whatsoever. When one stared into the flame and thought of the place he should like to see, he would see and hear what was transpiring at the location.

The young archmage trusted no other than himself to perform the task of building such a dangerous, highly magical window for builders had loose tongues when introduced to wine and valuables. Raistlin spent months carving into the Tower floor with magic, measuring carefully and precisely. It had to be perfect. There would be no 'second time' or 'second mirror'.

The efforts exhausted him immensely and Raistlin often stopped to rest or cough. He kept reminding himself it would be worth it. That was the key, and he was left to craft the door into which the key would fit. On the other side of the door would be his goals.

Raistlin carefully dumped bucket after bucket of dark magic water into the smoothed basin. It filled slowly, the physical exertion taxing for he did not have enough strength to cast a spell that would transport or float the buckets into the room.

He cast the final spell, one formulated by himself and had yet to be tested, on the pool and the otherworldly jet blue flame flickered above the magical portal.

Raistlin called to mind the location he wished to see as he watched the pool anxiously.

"-Majere must be kept an eye on. He is a rogue mage, a powerful and dangerous one at that! We must send someone to stay near him at all times and report his activities-"

Raistlin Majere, the Master of the Palanthas Tower of High Sorcery and Hero of the Lance, laughed.