Raistlin was in darkness, complete and blissful darkness, with no worries of black-robed mages, his bumbling brother, or that intoxicating woman. He knew this bliss of unconsciousness would never last forever, but for the moment he allowed himself to be soothed and swallowed by it. He had cast that energy-draining spell of time travel, and was expecting to wake up to horrific nightmares, and even more darkness, but not this comforting type. The mage had much to do when he woke, and not enough time, or energy, to do it.

To Raistlin's surprise, his head did not begin to swirl with evil thoughts and monsters. It filled with nothing, just the typical nothingness of every day sleep. Suddenly he was being shaking awake by the gentle touch of Crysania, much to his grief.

"Raistlin? Raistlin, where are we? This place is so strange. Why did you take us here?" she asked by his ear.

The dark one was becoming very perplexed by all this. You would think she would know a dark tower when she saw one. But when he finally managed to crack his eyes open, bright sun light pierced his brown eyes, which quickly tried to adjust to the shining yellow. Immediately, he threw his robed arm over his face. Now his perplexity was turning to fear. Wherever they were, it was definitely not his Tower.

Finally, Raitlin forced himself to sit up and look at where he had taken them. It was a large room, with big windows, (hence the intense sunlight) but it was also a mess. Brushes, paints, paper, pencils, and canvases were at every turn. While some canvases were on easels, either half painted, just a sketch, or completed, others stood in corners collecting dust, or were in piles about the room. And the paint was just everywhere, splattered and even dripping.

Caramon was inspecting the place, his sword drawn, Raistlin rolled his eyes. Since when have paintings had the tendency to kill, brother? He kept the remark to himself for the moment, since he had the more important mission of figuring out where in the world the three were.

"Where have you taken us brother? Is this part of your plan?" Caramon asked glaring at his little brother, still sitting on the floor.

"Be quiet, and let me think for once!" the dark one snapped. He tried retracing his steps; everything had gone according to plan. It must have been that spell. But he had memorized it and memorized it again! It worked the first time, what had happened? What was his mistake in casting? Utterly frustrated and completely exhausted he laid down again on the hard floor. Though he noticed it wasn't wood, nor was it really stone either. But it had a smooth texture, unless one's finger ran over a spot of dried paint.

Crysania was quick to be at his side seeing him slump to the floor again. But before she could mother him, the door opened. All three looked up to see a woman, whose back was to them for the moment, seemingly talking to someone outside. From the back, her costume was very odd. She wore blue pants, pink shoes, and her long wheat colored hair hid most of her black coat. Over her shoulder was a navy blue bag full of papers and other unidentifiable things. As she turned Raistlin couldn't help but noticed something white in her ears that were attached to white cords that led into one of her pockets. Once fully turned, the woman just stared at the three medieval looking people in her studio.

"Is … is this some kind of prank?" were the first words out of her mouth as the four continued to have a stare-down. Since they were staring, Caramon took the opportunity to size her up like an opponent. For the moment, she looked completely harmless, with not a weapon on her, but who knew what those things in her ears could do? Her shirt caught his attention, it seemed to have some kind of symbol and words on it, but with her coat still on he couldn't make out what it was exactly.

"I'm afraid not my lady," Raistlin finally spoke up, "But perhaps you can tell us exactly where we are?"

"Oh … um … this is my studio," she answered making sure she stayed close to the door. Receiving blank gazes, the woman continued, "In North Chicago … Illinois," nothing, "In the United States of America?" she tried, "On North America," she sighed, "Earth!?"

"I have never heard of such places, have you Raistlin?" Crysania asked, eyeing the odd girl.

"Before we get any farther," the woman said before Raistlin could reply, "Who are you and how did you all end up in my studio? And why on Earth are you dressed up like you're going to the Renaissance Fair?"

Raistlin made a sour face as Caramon answered, "I am Caramon Majere, this is my twin brother Raistlin, and Lady Crysania, Reverend Daughter."

"How exactly we got here, I am not completely sure. And if I were to tell you our means of transportation, you'd never believe me. As for your last question, this is how we dress from where we come from."

"Where is that precisely?"

"We come from Krynn, do you know where that is?" Crysania asked.

"Doesn't ring a bell, now I'm afraid I'm going to have to kick you out, it's been lovely meeting you, but I have work to do," she said opening the door.

"But Raistlin is still weak, he needs rest," said Crysania. The woman sighed; she did not need this right now!

"Well what do you want me to do about it?"

"I'll be fine, just help me up, I'll try to walk," grumbled the wizard as he struggled to rise.

"No … wait," sighed the woman, "You can stay here awhile. Just keep out of trouble and don't touch anything," the woman said, running a hand over her hair, then pulling out the white things in her ears, and placing them in her pocket. "Blasted morals," she muttered under her breath.

Taking off her coat, she threw it onto a chair. Reluctantly, Caramon moved his brother out of the middle of the room, to one of the less congested corners of the room. Crysania was quick to follow, and kept an eye on the now sleeping sorcerer.

"What is your name by the way?" asked Caramon as he looked at one of the paintings of a sunset.

"Laura," she answered simply, not looking up from the paint she was mixing. She soon headed over to an unfinished painting of a dragon. Caramon glanced at it, his eyes becoming wide.

"You do know of Krynn!" he gasped, waking Raistlin from his slumber.

"I beg your pardon?" Laura said raising an eyebrow at the big man.

"That's a red dragon, are you in legion with the goddess of darkness?!" he growled pointing his sword at her.

"Be careful with that thing!" she yelled, "Yes, it's a red dragon, but I'm not in legion with some goddess of whatever! Dragons don't exist! They're myths, fairytales!" she said not believing that she was actually explaining this to someone. This really was a messed up group.

"Don't exist you say?" muttered Raistlin as he glanced at the two. A world without dragons, then what did they have here?

"That's what I said. Wait, let me guess where you come from dragons are real and terrorize villages," Laura giggled.

"Yes actually," replied Caramon, his eyes intense.

"Oh," Laura cleared her throat; these people really believed they were from some mystical world. She wondered what on earth happened to them. "What else you got in … Krynn besides dragons?" she asked hesitantly, returning to working on her painting.

"Draconians, kenders, gnomes –"

"Gnomes! Ha!" Laura laughed, "You three are too much."

"You don't believe that we are not from this world," said Raistlin softly. The girl raised an eyebrow at him.

"How can I? Sure you three just appeared in my studio sometime this morning, but this could all be some – I don't know – hidden camera show or something," she shrugged.

Suddenly the door opened, and Laura spun to see her boss. He was an older fellow, with glasses and a goatee. He looked like he was about to say something when he noticed the other characters in the room.

"Who are they Laura?" he asked puzzled.

"You mean you don't know them?" she asked slightly surprised.

"No, never seen them in my life. And if you don't know who they are then perhaps they should leave," he inquired.

"I … I think they're really really lost," she replied, "I'll get them out of here as soon as possible … you sure you don't know them, or know if someone sent them to play a joke or something of that nature?"

"We're not a joke," muttered Caramon.

"No," her boss shook his head, "But anyway, I need those drawings of the wizards for that book cover."

Raistlin's head jerked up. Laura nodded, going to her desk and opening a drawer. She soon pull out a few pieces of paper with colored drawings of black-robed wizards holding fireballs, white-robed sorcerers seemingly calling on nature, and blue and purple robed magic users taking energy from lightning. Raistlin was curious to know how a world without dragons and wizards knew about them. Perhaps they were closer to home than they thought.

Once Laura's boss had gone, the woman sighed and turned back to her three guests.

"All right, it would seem as though you three are having some problems on where and who you are."

"Just where," commented Raistlin.

"Indeed," Laura pondered for a moment, "Okay, on my lunch break I'll take you to my apartment, and you can sort yourselves out," she then looked at there clothes, or lack there of, "Do you have any other clothes that aren't … medieval?" she asked, trying not to snicker.

Caramon suddenly blushed as well as Crysania at their appearance.

"I'm afraid not, we came as we are," said Crysaina.

"Very well," she sighed, "I know a place were I can get you some clothes."

She knew her friend Natalie will be not too happy with her for taking so many clothes from her shop, but she did owe her. Laura was suddenly confused, why was she being so nice and generous to a group of complete strangers who claim to be from another world. Oh well, she thought, as soon as she helped them get on there feet again she'd let them go on there own.

Author's Note: This was just a little idea I had and wanted to see if it will go anywhere. If you like it and want me to continue please say so, because I'm not completely sure if I'm going to continue.