Disclaimer: I do not own DRAGONLANCE nor do I own any of Weis's and Hickman's characters, I'm not geniuses like them, despite my fantasies.

This story takes place in the Soulforge: Raist and Caramon are six, Raist takes magic lessons from Theobald, and Kit–who is fourteen–hasn't started serious traveling. The three get caught in a complex web of magic, Takhisis, a strange and stupid city, blah blah, just read it!

Note: yes, I've read Brothers Majere and you'll find that Hanilakin is a lot like Mereklar. And, yes, I've also read Dark Heart, some stuff appears from there, too.

Oh, and the Xs stand for where there are swears, my mother has a habit of reading over my shoulders, don't wanna get grounded. You understand.

Chapter Two

The Necklace.

Raistlin sighed, leaning over the rail of a "street". It had been a long morning.

After Rosamun had stopped screaming she had began to whimper, which drove Kitiara crazy. She had dragged a wet cloth across her mother's lips and palms, slapped her face, and stomped out of the room in a fury. Raistlin then had fetched a clean cloth, bandaged his mother's cut palms, wiped her face, shielded her dilated eyes against the sunrise, and cleaned the cut on her lip, all the while listening for her every moan and whimper, all the while whispering "It's OK, Mama, it's OK."

Mama. The six-year-old's lips twisted into a grim smile. When was the last time he'd called Rosamun 'Mama'? Not since he was a very young child, before Rosamun started having her serious fits. Kit had instructed them to call Rosamun either 'Mother' or simply 'Rosamun'. He didn't even know where the term had come from, but it seemed to calm her.

It was always like this. When Rosamun had one of her trances, Raistlin had the terrible feeling that she was running away from her family, from Solace, from the world, running happily down the road, not because she wanted to leave, but because she simply did not know of their existence. If he could just cry a little longer, call a little louder, grab her a little harder, she'd remember and come back home to them.

But no matter how long he cried, how loud he called, how tightly he grabbed, she never came home. She could never truly come home. Never.

And he had ran out of the room.

His grim thoughts were interrupted, as always, by Caramon.

"Hey, Raist, come here! Breakfast!" Caramon waved as cheerily as he could to his twin. Both knew he was faking. Both didn't really care.

"I'm coming, Caramon." Raistlin called, turning from the rail and treading back to the forlorn, slovenly kept little house. With every step the bridge swayed slightly. The morning mist-which still hadn't cleared up-wet his hair and face, dampening his clothes. It was going to rain. He hurried to Caramon, shuddering slightly with a little dread.

Rosamun was seated in her rocking chair, showing no signs of her previous state. Her face was still pale, but the lips were smiling slightly, her eyes were fixed in a realm only she could see, and she was humming in a eerie, low voice. Raistlin's eyes fell to his mother's bandaged hands, and he shuddered. She was 'knitting'. Stepping closer, he could see the red marks upon her face where Kitiara had slapped her. He turned away.

Kit was making breakfast, setting out bread and cheese and heating water for 'mush', which consisted of a mixture of ground wheat, potatoes, ground corn, oats, and whatever else she could scrounge up. Her dark curls were matted and tangled with the heat and steam from the pot and the mist that was currently making itself at home in the small house.

"Shut that door! Do you want it to get any colder in here?" She snapped in Caramon's direction, anger making her moody. Caramon silently shut it.

"Hey, kids, c'mere." She called, waving a hand sharply in their direction. Raistlin and Caramon trudged over, looking gloomy and downcast. She pointed to the water. "Raist, you watch that pot and tell me when it boils. Caramon, toast this bread." Seeing their glum faces, she waved in Rosamun's direction and said "She scare you, huh?"

"Yes." Caramon admitted honestly.

Raistlin was silent. Yes, at times, Mother did scare him, but he wasn't going to tell Kit that. No.

"Don't let her scare you, she's just an old witch." Kitiara said loftily, casting Rosamun a scalding look. Both Caramon and Raistlin flinched slightly at the harsh words. "Listen, when you're old enough, we'll get out of here. I'll take you, up North. I'll be the commander of armies, Caramon, you'll be a general, and Raistlin will be one too, if you want."

Caramon brightened up. Raistlin was still silent, watching Kit intensely. She had spoken not to them but to the mixture that she was beating severely. Raistlin could see her cheeks flush slightly and her eyes brighten just a little, with excitement and-what? Anticipation?

"Water's boiling." he informed her.

They ate their breakfast in silence, broken occasionally by Rosamun's singing and conversations with someone that wasn't there. Caramon and Kit consentraited on their food, whereas Raistlin was silent, occupied with his thoughts.

"Well." Kit said, sitting back. Wicking her bowl off the table, she placed it at the sink. Caramon, who had also finished, mimicked her, nearly dropping his bowl in the proccess. Raistlin caught in and washed both bowels while Caramon dryed and Kit cleaned out the pot she'd used.

"It's a nice day out." Kit glanced out at the 6:30 sky, which wa beganning to unmist, warming up considerably. "You go out and play." Giving Raistlin a push, she practiacally threw him out the door. Caramon tagged behind.

"It looks like a nice day, doesn't it, Raist?" He asked cheerfully, putting his arm around his twin. "No, it doesn't." Raistlin snapped back, sliding away from Caramon's touch. Caramon shrugged and the two reached the ground, heading for the Lake.

Caramon dug for clams-despite Raistlin's comment on how clams did not live here-while Raistlin hunted the edge of the Lake for interesting plants or fish. The sun was steadily climbing when he tripped over something half-buried in the sand.

"Ouch!" He cried, landing in the scratchy sand, banging his elbow on a rock and scraping his knee through the leggings.

"ShXt!" cried Caramon, hurrying to his brother. "Are you all right?"

Raistlin glared at Caramon. Was he all right, with a banged elbow and scraped knee? Of course not!

"Yes, Caramon, I'm all right." He said, biting the words. Caramon's face brightened: he obviously hadn't heared the sarcasm. Shaking his head, Raistlin pulled himself to his feet, then turned. "I tripped, that's all." Kneeling, he inspected the object that had tripped him.

It was a stone.

The stone was long, a sort of oval that went down, made of a sort of clear crystal with what appeared to be black smoke or mist trapped in it. At the middle, nearly hidden by the dark fog, was a sapphire in the shape of a cresent moon. Bringing it closer, Raistlin could see tiny silver runes on the sapphire and the top of the stone, which was set in silver. Yanking it out of the ground, he saw that it was a necklace strung on a fine silver chain with a black clasp. Holding it in his hand, Raistlin felt the cool crystal and almost a warmth, coming from the black smoke, through the crystal-or was it glass?

Entriced, Raistlin placed the necklace in a small pocket that he used to gather small samples of rock and plants, when above him came a loud warrior scream.

"AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGH A-A-ARRRRRGH!"

Yeah . . . my second chapter . . . I'm not posting the third until I get at least three reviews! Muhahahahaha!

Anyway, told ja stuff would happen. Please review!