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|On Twisted Hill (standard:other, 5184 words)|
|Author: red1hols||Added: Jun 22 2002||Views/Reads: 2437/1842||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Karen has always believed in the Little People and they will help out. After all they get something in return. Warning : Adult content. Discretion advised.|
On Twisted Hill. There was an air of expectation among the little people gathered in the hall of the Western Labyrinth. The Gatherers were getting closer; soon their booty would be revealed. The whole Western tribe was gathered in their dark blue robes. The robes covered them from head to foot with arms were hidden under long sleeves. Each robe was tied with a single strand of spider's silk. Even with the huge hoods covering their heads, it was easy to see that most had their faces turned towards the tunnel by which the Gatherers would enter. A small group were polishing and preparing the ceremonial cart for it's precious cargo. Now and again, one would look up from their task towards the tunnel. The murmur of conversation among them rose with the excitement. Hundreds of whispered voices echoing around the smooth rock walls filled the hall. The noise slowly died away as a small group entered from a side tunnel. One walked ahead of the other four. The throng parted to ease his passage to the bier, bowing their heads in reverence. When they group reached the cart, the group working on the cart ceased their labours. Cleaning materials were hastily stored and the workers took their place among the rest of the Western Tribe. The hall fell totally silent. ---oooOOOooo--- James comes back into his bedroom after his early morning shower. He dresses in his usual weekend clothes, tight jeans and figure-hugging shirt. He starts opening drawers, searching for clean socks, whenever he comes across a piece of sports gear, he throws it towards a sports bag in one corner of the sparsely furnished room. Although he appreciates his mothers' visits, he wishes that she didn't insist of tidying his flat. After dressing, he goes to small table at the side of his bed. He looks for his necklace. The reminder of Annie, his first love. Although the romance had ended years ago, he had promised Annie he would wear it always, in return she promised that it would bring him good luck. James curses under his breath and searches around the table, under the bed, the sports bag, his pockets. James takes the search from bedroom to bathroom to living area to kitchen, increasingly desperate to find the charm. ---oooOOOooo--- The Northern tribe Gatherers had already returned with their prize. A silver ring was carried by three of the Little People towards the cart. A buzz of conversation runs through the orange robed throng as they watch it progress through the hall. The Gatherers lift it onto the cart and a cheer goes up from the crowd. The leader raises his arms above his head. The material of the robe slips back to reveal pale skin on thin wiry arms. Silence sweeps over the hall. The leader steps forward and inspects the ring. A disproportionately long and bony finger pokes into the fine crevasses of the Celtic design. A group of cleaners in orange robes appear and immediately set about removing the grime with bony fingers then polish the ring and the inset black stone to a pristine condition. ---oooOOOooo--- Unusually, Karen is running late. She had arranged to meet a friend from the office for a spot of retail therapy, light lunch and perhaps a movie. She moves through the house gathering everything she needs into her large black shoulder bag. She quickly kisses her mother on the cheek and shoots out of the door. The silver ring hadn't been missed. ---oooOOOooo--- The elders from the lower labyrinth gather at the foot of the winding stairs. Four neat rows of white robed figures wait for the priest to make his entrance. From a tunnel on the left, a faint chant wafts to their sharp ears. "Fen Makedur Begzuns Luzt. Fen Makedur Begzuns Luzt." The elders slowly take up the chant. Although each voice is barely a Click here to read the rest of this story (532 more lines)
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