Guan: You get a medal for being the most steadfast reviewer FFnet ever saw. Thanks. ;) (Petalwing decorates Guan in a solemn ceremony)

Childlike Empress: Glad you liked it. The poem can be found on diverse online sources. You can google it out if you like. I found this page most helpful. It contains romantic pictures and gives detailed information about the history of the poem. This page also includes the older version but likewise some spelling mistakes. So if you want to use the poem for something like I did, it is better to check other pages too. By the way, I'm sure you'll enjoy the future couple(s) in this story even if It's not Raistlin/Naranja. ;)

Singvogel: Wow, hadn't expected that so many guys are acquainted with the song

Shannon Holmes: Thank you. :) Here it comes...

Blackjack: I'll deal with you soon, my friend... soon.... gnehehe....

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Chapter 27 - More Music

Eventually Raistlin and Naranja's companionable silence was disturbed by the fortuneteller getting back. The mage only waited for an opportunity to bid farewell to the gypsy women. Even though this time Naranja's presence hadn't been completely unpleasant, there was a limit of the amount of polite conversation he was able to make with her and her mother. The opportunity to leave showed up soon but not in the way he had intended.

With nightfall the show members had gathered around campfires sharing meals and music.

"What about joining the others, Nima?" Naranja insisted. Raistlin was about to utter a quick excuse, he was not in the least interested in even more senseless talk. But Naranja went on. "Maybe we can get Hrongar to tell us another story of his travels."

Raistlin left his excuse unsaid.

"Hrongar? Do you think so?" the mage asked instead.

Naranja shrugged.

"I dont' know. Most of the time he sticks to himself, but you know how he claims to love the company of those 'gregarious young people' as he always calls us. If he does join us, you never know what will happen."

At least it was a chance to watch the 'alchemist'. Or maybe even 'mage'? Listening to his 'tales', whatever that meant, could perhaps grant some hints on this man's identity.

Finally, Raistlin nodded. Naranja smiled. She smiled so often. He was sure he had never met a person who smiled as frequently as she did, except for the irritating kender girl maybe. Oh yes, these girls definitely fit together. They had already left the wagon and were strolling to the campfire when it suddenly occurred to him that this had been the second time that day he had thought of the kender maid. Wasn't meeting her in dreams enough? Did she haunt him now even in his waking hours? What a nasty idea.

They walked towards a bigger campfire, and took a place next to Tiomar, who had placed himself just near enough to the others so that he wouldn't be sitting apart from them. Raistlin appreciated that because it asved him from having to sit next to kender or gnomes.

When they approached the half-orc, Tiomar and the mage shared a short, appraising glance. The ranger nodded slightly and silently moved a little giving Raistlin space to sit on his blanket. Of course the half-orc was satisfied seeing both 'girls' reunited. Instantly Raistlin looked out for the alchemist while he nibbled absently on a slab of bread that Tiomar had handed him. To his disappointment he noticed no new face. As if to confirm his observation, Naranja looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry." she whispered.

Raistlin shrugged.

"Why? " he answered dryly. "They already have somebody telling tales."

What else was to expect with Tasselhoff around? The gypsies made a thankful audience and of course the kender used the opportunity to tell his Sailor's yarn to everybody who wanted or didn't want to listen. Sometimes Raistlin could only shake his head hearing Tasselhoff's version of their adventures during the War of the Lance. Even if he didn't listen closely, Raistlin occasionally heard his own name being mentioned. He just didn't want to know what the kender was babbling about him.

Finally even the gypsies seemed to have heard enough tales for one night and somebody suggested a singing contest. Abrakus the gnome started. Whatever he sung about, it stayed a secret. At least to human ears that couldn't follow the fast and absolute a-rhythmical verses of gnomish poetry. When he was through, he got applause and laughter though. The gypsies were obviously trained to these kind of performances. Eventually the gnome took pity on his fellows and challenged Naranja. The bard responded with her lute and a hearty drinking song. When she had finished she designated somebody else and the game went on. Soon it was clear that this was not a real contest at all, every act was met with warmhearted appreciation. Still, the humorous songs were answered with most enthusiasm. The laughter grew loudest when somebody sang the popular tavern song 'Love me Kender' with the kender being the most exhilarated. Raistlin knew the song, he had never found it very comical but even he had to suppress a twitching lip at watching Nima's father singing the verses out to his wife, each exaggerated gesture ending in another acrobatic jump. Even after the song had ended laughter still flickered up again several times. Raistlin leaned back, subtly hiding behind Tiomar's strong back. As long as he didn't get any attention he felt relaxed to a certain point. This evening reminded him of their time in Port Balifor when the adventurers of the Lance had been in need of money and had performed their own show. It had been a light-hearted time.

Just that moment when Raistlin leaned back beginning to enjoy the warm summer night, he heard Tasselhoff's voice ringing over the camp calling his name.

"Speaking of 'love me kender', where is Nima? I thought I'd just seen her somewhere. She hasn't sung yet."

Raistlin hid himself even more behind Timoar. Full attention was the last thing he needed now. The cursed kender had a talent to annoy. It was part of Tasselhoff's very existence. Unfortunately his friends didn't reward Raistlin's efforts to stay unnoticed.

"She is here."

Naranja pointed at Raistlin forcing him to face the jugglers whose full attention he had by now.

"What about you singing 'We're kender, we're slender'?" somebody asked.

Now this had all of a sudden become another obstacle, another test on his identity. He couldn't tell the jugglers that he knew no kender songs, especially not the nonsensical ones. Within seconds, the archmage saw himself confronted with the demand of having to demean himself so far as to singing in front of the whole camp.

"One day... one day in a dark alley... I'll just kill that cursed kender. I'll kill him." he muttered under his breath. The whole issue had long ago gained the quality of another adventure. One that didn't challenge his skills in magic but forced him to improvise at damned deeds he had never done before. The expecting silence lengthened and Raistlin met several odd looks while he wondered whether pretending a sore throat due to a cold could work. It wasn't very inconspicuous when he 'got sick' on a regular basis, though. If he only knew a song, any song would be just great now. Frantically Raistlin searched his memory. There had to be a song. What did his brother and his comrades sing in the taverns? But having never paid attention to any of those activities Raistlin's mind went blank. The looks got odder with each passing second. Just at the moment when Raistlin seriously considered the sickness excuse, Nima's mother shook her head.

"That's what comes from studying spells and pells. Now she can't even sing anymore."

Spells, that was it. There was a song taught to all young mages who began their studies, reminding them of the three principles of magic. It had been sung occasionally by some of his fellow students. The concoction was known as "Threefold Moon", a blatant attempt to characterize the three gods of magic. Its message was simple and he had never liked it, but at least he remembered the melody. Derived from an old common folksong, the jugglers would probably like it.

"Well since my mother mentions magic, I will sing something about magic." Raistlin announced, his confidence restored at least to the outside. "I stumbled over this song during my meaningless studies..."

"Oh a magery song. That will be great!" Knoblar exclaimed clapping his hands. He was hushed by his father who, just like the others waited for Raistlin to begin. He cleared his throat advising Naranja to play the melody of the original ballad on her lute. Suddenly the idea of singing seemed not as appealing anymore as some moments ago. But now there was no way back. Somebody had to die for that mess later. And then, he began to sing.

"Silver moon shining ever bright
Shining moon, lighten up the night
With your light on my way
I won't fear the night and I welcome the day."

The listeners were silent. Some people smiled at the reference to Solinari. Out of the corner of his eye, Raistlin watched several of them making a gesture of respect to Paladine. He went on.

"Crimson moon, watching all our strife
Circling Blood keeps us all alive
Firelight keeps us warm
I cherish the flames and I cherish your charm."

Lunitari. The balanced principles of Neutrality were much harder to grasp then the simple moral code of "do this and don't do that" the good gods provided their followers with. Still, he saw appreciation in many faces. What would they say to the next verse...?

"Hidden moon lead me through the dark
Blackest moon I will bear your mark
Blind my eyes, make me see
Reveal all your secrets, reveal them to me."

Now that verse had always been his favorite. Just as he had expected he observed light frowns and irritated looks now. No, these people would never understand the fascinating, alluring temptation the Dark Arts provided for the soul of a man who dedicated himself to seeking knowledge. That was the reason why he could sense another moon in the dark sky where others could not.

"Threefold moon to the center rise
Power comes for the highest price
Look inside, ask your heart
Now, whom of the masters shall teach you the art?"

The inevitable moral lecture in the end. Though there was more truth to it than most people, even most mages, would have guessed. An old memory sprang up. Master Theobald's cellar came to his mind and the test he had have to pass there. 'I Magus'.

All three gods had at that time answered his desperate call, his prayer. They had appeared showing their differences more obvious then ever, still acting as one. He had at that time pledged himself to all three principles. They had spoken of the sacrifices he would have to make. The price for power. Being a child, just timidly beginning to discover the worlds of creation inside of him, he had not been able to understand what that had meant. But that had been long ago, he had learned his lessons, he had indeed.

Then the song was over. With support from the lute he had managed to give a halfway decent performance. And when he had ended he also got his share of applause. That had been a close one. Who would have ever thought that something as inane as this song would prove useful.

While Naranja was asking where he had that song from, and likewise claimed that he had looked like enjoying the singing, Raistlin spotted Tasselhoff hurrying towards them. Oh no, he wouldn't give the kender another chance to embarrass him in front of anybody. And if he ended up killing Tasselhoff, all his efforts would prove useless. He had better retreat strategically while he still could. The mage muttered a quick excuse of being tired and rushed to the wagons before the infamous kender could approach him.

What a strange and seriously irritating day. It had forced him to strain his social skills to their very limits. Even he was surprised of what he was capable of in times of urgent need, though.He suddenly did things neither he nor any body else who knew him would have expected him to achieve.

'There now, brother. What would you have said if you had seen me entertaining these people without even using magic? How would it have felt seeing the sickly little brother receiving their cheer and praise for once? Quite charismatic for the Sly One, known for being shy, hn?

He sighed softly. The jugglers made him act in utter contrast to his usual habits. Somehow he began to see it as a challenge, maybe all this was just another obstacle to overcome, another disguise to put on and another battle to win. Still, he couldn't remember many 'battles', mentally or physically, that had affected his emotions so much as the events of last few days. Could this solely be explained by the crucial change of environment or were other subtle powers working on his mind? However, this unfamiliar tendency of getting affected by the life in the camp added yet another worry to his overall trouble.

Hopefully the kender in his dreams would be less disturbing then the rest of her fellows. Although this hope was a weak one...

TBC

A/N: The songs mentioned in this chapter all exist in one form or the other. "Love Me Kender" is a popular parody on, you guess it, "Love Me Tender" by Elvis Presley. Its hilarious and was originally published in the "Dragon Magazine" as many other famous D&D Song-Classics. (Who can still remember "Oh, Torm won't you give me a chainmail plus one...", eh?) And you can check it out on the internet, if you're interested in the lyrics. (Meanwhile there are a thousand different versions going around.) "We're kender, we're slender" has also been written but right now can only be found on my and Dally's harddisks. I still look for a way to work it into this story without overloading everything with songs. And for the song in this chapter: Threefold Moon is my own humble creation, although derived from a German Boyscout song. The original is called "Roter Mond" (transl.: "Red Moon"), in case anybody is interested.