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The wordless song then turned to the familiar, somber sound used in many
common
ballads popular in the southern marches of Guthrie and adjacent realms
and fiefdoms, most telling of the rumors and fables of the woodland
creatures that wander the shadow shrouded forests in the deepening of
evening and fullness of night. The familiar tune sounded euphonious to
the guilt-stricken Lord, bringing him back to the days when things had
been simpler, before he had squashed his prince like some kind of
housefly. The high-pitched voice that gave the ballad it's life sounded
alien, and it held an almost hypnotic quality in it's tone. Memories of his childhood in the great house of Montefort flooded his mind, of the many hunts and excursions he had undertaken as a mere lad. He had truly led a privledged life, son of a Great Duke. Somehow the music was forming images in his mind... His thoughts turned to the present. The wind picked up, stirring the forest canopy. All about him the brooding old birches seemed to gossip the wicked secrets of the hills to each other, dark secrets held just below the soil...where their prying roots relentlessly delved. The aroma of pinewood still drifted on the cool breeze, the eerie fire still flickered unnaturally. Transfixed, Lord Fred stumbled toward the light in a sudden haze of consciousness, as if the light would take him back in time, away from this nightmare - even if the witch had offered him a window of hope.Soon the source of the strange light became evident, and Fred beheld a phenomenon he had never witnessed in his life. A massive swarm of fireflies were gathered in a small clearing, right from where the singing came. He was awestruck, amoung other things. The haze that clouded his wits continued to grow and he was soon completely bespelled...
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5/22/2003 7:51:48 PM
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