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THE FINAL QUESTON

Novel By: poewhit
Horror


FANTASY, yet maybe a reality????????? View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Submitted:Apr 6, 2007    Reads: 91    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


page 9

In order to get the message of the need for the flowers the leader of theNeedles would place an order well in advance of the real need. The great Grand GoldenNeedle would have to make the proper sequence of moves. First, he would have to put on the hat and the cloak of the Golden Needle. Long and trailing in its stature, it was the handy work of the aged in the caves of the timid people. A great grand chariot would be used to take the Grand Needle to the castle. This had to done on certain days of the year and usually at the stroke of the clock in the high part of the night. There, the great chariot would leave the place of its birth. The great Golden Needle would be in the riders seat with the great cape flowing in the breeze. The right hand of the GoldenNeedle holding the hat of the top of his head. It was the event that all the children of the town secretly waited for.

Down the darkened streets the chariot would flow. The sound of the chariot over the ground had a thunderous sound. Strange birds, could be seen following the chariot at a distance. Its shadow going in many different directions from the reflection of the moon. In the drivers section, the darkened image of the driver could be seen slumped over, giving the appearance of a hunch back at the controls. The driver also wore a long flowing cape and tall hat and the dust from the road could be seen surrounding him like the locusts plague of the plains.

Moments after the stroke of midnight, the great chariot of the GoldenNeedle would arrive. There would be no ceremonies or jubilations from the people. It would all be done with the greatest of secrecies. There was sort of an air of paranoia about the whole routine.

The castle was old and held the treasures of many years. It was the traditional resting place of the lineage of the pigeons. They found it easy to fly in and out of the great height, and it gave protection from the weather.

page 10

It was of importance to the pigeons. It seemed that they had a special hatred of the rain. To them, it was the omen of doom.

At the front of the castle, the driver would disembark from the drivers seat. He would go back to the coach and release the Golden Needle from his seat. Following the Golden Needle, they would go up the winding path that led to the ancient door of the castle. All the names of the past Golden Needles were placed on plaques on the door of the castle. It served as a history for the race of the Golden Needles, though many people were unaware of the race at all.

The door opened with the slightest effort. The silent creak told of the need for oil or lubrication. Inside, the Golden Needle looked at an old picture on the wall that held the history of the battles of the Needle people and the many struggles with the Wooding people of old. The Needles had finally come into power and subdued the Wooding people. It has always been that way, since anyone can remember.

Together, the Golden Needle and the driver ascended the stairs of the castle. They were old and held the remains of the once beautiful floors. Time and the constant use of the floor had worn it to the thin tattered end of existence.

At the landing the driver halted. Only the great Golden Needle was allowed into the upper chambers of the castle. This was the secret place of the meeting, ofthe pigeon and the Golden Needle. Slowly, with deliberate steps the Golden Needle ascended the steps to the chamber door.

The wood at this section of the steps was old, but hardly worn. The Golden Needle was about to make the final assault to the top of the steps. He reached the door in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Yet, he knew that it was the experience of time that did this to him.





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