A short continuation of A Carnival Of Dreams, in tribute to a great man.
'At the centre of this great field, Jareth could already see the area where the crystals grew their brightest. It was a place he refused ever to tread, though it was where he himself would end eventually, and, somewhere amongst the dazzling glow, he knew, was that of his own parents and the ancestors that had come before them. In that most special place, the magic was at its strongest. It was said that you could hear the voices of the long dead, faint but there all the same, talking and rejoicing amongst themselves forever – for how could they not? Every single crystal there had its mate, standing equally tall and proud beside them – a companion whose love and laughter would illuminate the very air surrounding them for all eternity.
It was the resting place of every last goblin king, and his queen.'
Description:
A short continuation of A Carnival Of Dreams, in tribute to a great man.
'At the centre of this great field, Jareth could already see the area where the crystals grew their brightest. It was a place he refused ever to tread, though it was where he himself would end eventually, and, somewhere amongst the dazzling glow, he knew, was that of his own parents and the ancestors that had come before them. In that most special place, the magic was at its strongest. It was said that you could hear the voices of the long dead, faint but there all the same, talking and rejoicing amongst themselves forever – for how could they not? Every single crystal there had its mate, standing equally tall and proud beside them – a companion whose love and laughter would illuminate the very air surrounding them for all eternity.
It was the resting place of every last goblin king, and his queen.'