Sorry, sorry, sorry it's taken sooooo much time to update.

Wow . . . well, the previous six chapters have introduced you to the main characters, the necklace, the runes on the note, and . . . that's it.

Oh, yeah, I got the

thingy to work, so no more XXXXXXXXXXX or -----------, which is a relief, I can tell you.

Caution: this chapter is weird. If you hate weirdness, do not read. So, everyone read.

thingy to work, so no more XXXXXXXXXXX or -----------, which is a relief, I can tell you. thingy to work, so no more XXXXXXXXXXX or -----------, which is a relief, I can tell you. thingy to work, so no more XXXXXXXXXXX or -----------, which is a relief, I can tell you.

AAAAAAAAAARGH! The words keep stickingtogether!!!! Sigh. Please ignore words that are stucktogether, you can figure out that there's supposed tobe a space between them.

OK, here we actually GO somewhere, and the so-far fairly-normal story gets a bit . . . weird . . .

White Light, Unholy.

Raistlin woke up, groggily raising his head from his cloak. He was stiff all over. Sleeping on the floor was every bit as uncomfortable as he imagined. Rubbing his eyes, the six-year-old stared curiously around him.

They were in a small clearing, around a campfire. Kit was stirring a pot, her damp, dark curls plastered to her hair with sweat and the early-morning mists. But that was not what made Raistlin's eyes fix on her. She had on chain mail and leather armor, and, at her hip, was a sword-a real one, not the wooden one she practiced with.

Kit raised her head, noticing as she did so that she had an audience. Grinning at Raistlin, she shook her head. "Best wake up, Baby Brother, food's ready. C'mon, lets have some, and then Little Brother can have what's left. That way, we actually get some breakfast." She winked at her brother, who slid out of his cloak and came up to join her.

"Where are we, Kit?" he asked, studying her sword, chain mail, and leather armor with a cooly curious eye.

"That's for me to know, and for you to try to figure out." Kit answered, handing him a bowl with some rabbit soup on it. Raistlin sat down and began to eat with more appetite than he usually had: he'd ridden all night, it seemed, with Caramon sleepily clinging to the small child, nearly pulling Raistlin off the saddle. He had no idea how to ride a horse, and had clung to the reins to tightly that his hands still bore the marks.

Kit, eyeing his hands, said in an off-hand manner, "I'll teach you to ride, Raist. For now, eat your food."

Raistlin, frowning slightly, looked around. The red-eyed man-Vielleicht?-was gone.

"Where-"

"Hush."

Brother and sister sat side-by-side, enjoying the warm, early-morning sun and the peaceful moment. Kit kicked Caramon awake, and he finished off the rest of the pot, complaining that they had left him a very little amount. No one said anything about the sudden flight from Solace, and no one wondered aloud what was happening when Gilon found the brief note Kit had left her step-father.

Raistlin wondered, and, later, after Kit settled her younger brothers onto the saddle and taught them how to hold the reins correctly, after the bony horse bearing Raistlin and Caramon fell a ways behind Kit's mare, Caramon turned to Raist and asked, "Why did we leave, Raist? What will Father think? And Mother? Maybe we shouldn't be out here, Raist. They'll worry, and Mother will cry-you know she will, Raist. What are we doing? Why did Kit take us? I'm not complaining or anything-" Caramon looked to Kit and back to his brother. "-this is what we've always wanted, isn't it? But I'd like to know, if you know what I mean, Raist."

Raistlin did not say anything, but looked around at the path that they were taking, memorizing it for later use.

They arrived at the Inn that afternoon.

It was a well-kept building, though showing signs of wear. The roof was more-or-less intact, and Raistlin could see mis-matched pieces of wood fitted here or there to cover up holes. The walls were worn and windowless, except were there were two boards near the far side of the Inn that were not on speaking terms with each other. A sign, obviously new and looking strangely out of place hanging from a weak, weathered beam, was carved in the shape of a parrot, and paintedgreen with orange and purple polka dots. An inscription above the door read 'The Polka-Dotted Parrot', or, to be more correct, 'Thee Ploka-Dooted Paret'.

The trio stood in the front of the Inn, staring at it, Kit with a dry smile. Leaping elegently from her horse, she yanked down her brothers (or, rather, she yanked down Raistlin, Caramon having fallen off two nanoseconds earlier) and, handing each of them a dagger, led the horses to a corner of the Inn and instructed her brothers to stay with them and to defend themselves, if nessesary, until she came back-and to not move from the spot.

"You got that?" she asked in a businesslike tone.

"Yep!" Caramon answered cheerfully. Raistlin nodded, fingering the dagger, keeping him fingers away from the razor-sharp blade.

"Wow, Raist! A real dagger!" Caramon exclaimed once Kit was (hopefully) out of earshot, while rubbing a bruised knee. "This is wonderful! Wait till I tell Father!"

"Yes." Raistlin said absent-mindedly, not really paying attention to his twin. Drawing out the necklace, he began to inspect it for the thousanth time, turning it over and over in the light. Taking out his journal and the note, he began to study the two for the gazillionith time, as Caramon put it.

"What's so speical about a necklace, Raist?" he asked, bending curiously over his smaller twin's shoulders to get a better look. "It's pretty, I guess, but it's just a rock. What's the big deal?"

Raistlin frowned at his twin's ignorance, but answered, "It's important to me."

"Okay, Raist, if you say so." Caramon skipped away to play with the dagger and peering through the crack in the boards.

Kit came out then, looking smug. She took the horses' reins and tied tem to a pole in the stable, all the while whistling 'It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood' to herself. Caramon skipped over to ask her what she was so happy about. Raistlin ignoring both his siblings, continued to study the runes. Turning over the necklace, he started in shock.

The runes, glowing through the black mist, were radiating bone-white light that filled the necklace and caused Raistlin's eyes to widen. The unholy light filled his eyes, so that it was all he could see. It struck his mind, paralyzing him with pain. His mouth opened to scream a warning, a warning that his brain was shrieking, but no sounds came out . . .

The world tilted . . . he was falling . . . falling through white light . . . into black mist . . . sapphire glow . . . unholy . . . falling . . . closing his eyes . . . seeing . . . knowing . . . sleeping . . .dreaming . . . all the while, falling . . . into oblivion . . . forever . . . dreaming . . . dreaming . . . falling . . . !

Raistlin collapsed silently, his hand clenched around the necklace, which had stopped glowing, his head bent forward at a sharp angle, eyes-irises, whites, and pupils-glowing with the unholy light that shone beneath the closed lids. He began to whisper strange words, whisper feverishly, until he had no more breath. That was all the sound he made.

Sorry for shortness, hope the excitement made up.

What did you think??????????? Please tell me!

The next one won't be so damn short, I promise!

Review!