The King's Labyrinth
Horizon 3/?


The light filtering through the trees was a strange green color. The land 
was absolutely silent, which was unnerving, but also not unusual. Annag's 
home was just ahead of him. secluded in a dark clearing which made the 
building look spectral. Which, he suspected, was more than a little due to 
the influence of the woman who lived there. Beyond the house and through 
the woods away stood the circle of standing stones, weird and grim, 
glowering over the landscape as they had for a millennia. 
	He dismounted and led Obsidian to a tree near the house and tied 
him there. After smoothing out his appearance he walked up to the cottage's 
door and was unsurprised as it swung silently open of it's own accord. 
Undoubtedly, Annag had sensed his approach a long way off. 

"Welcome, Little Brother." Annag smiled as she came into the entryway.

Jareth chuckled at the old nickname. He hadn't been called 'Little Brother' 
in ages. He had no real siblings, but Annag  had been close as a sister in 
childhood. He stepped forward to embrace the tall slim woman. She looked 
the same, which was of little surprise. Their people almost always ceased 
to age somewhere in their twenties or thirties, some stopping earlier than 
others. 
	Annag's hair was ebony, and fine as corn silk, shot through with 
streaks of silver which gave her a certain aura of wisdom despite her 
youthful appearance. Her black eyes twinkled merrily at him, though deep in 
their depths he could see the lingering traces of sorrow. She took him by 
the hand and led him into what served as a sitting room on the rare 
occasions she had visitors. He was constantly amazed at the fact that the 
building seemed much smaller on the outside than it was on the inside, 
though logic told him that his gravity defying Escher room was really no 
different. And the very air of this place throbbed with magic due jointly 
to its proximity to the ancient standing stones and its habitation by the 
sorceress. 
	Jareth seated himself in one of the brocaded chairs. The weak 
sunlight was filtering through a stained glass window next to him, casting 
a pattern of colors on the opposite wall. It depicted a battle of some sort,
obviously set in the Underground, for he could pick out both the Labyrinth 
and his castle in the background. He recognized the battlefield, in fact. 
It was the plain that spread out north of the castle for several miles 
before becoming encompassed by the ever-present forest. As he studied the 
scene he became aware of a sound, building at the limits of his hearing. 
Strange, jumbled. He couldn't make it out distinctly, but it was growing 
louder, and the sunlight shining through the window was growing with it, 
until the roar filled his ears and the light blinded him.

Then it vanished, and he was no longer in Annag's house. He was someplace 
else entirely. Someplace filled with noise, confusion, bedlam. He could 
make out the screams of horses, men, the clash of weapons and armor. He was 
a part of the mad melee and yet, apart of it. As if he could look from all 
points outside his body onto the battle.  He recognized the standards of 
the houses fighting. One was the house of d'Avennes, one of the noble 
houses. And the other was *his* standard. The standard of the Goblin King. 
But this was all ridiculous. There was no more house of d'Avennes, and they 
had certainly never fought a war. He knew his history. And yet here it was, 
playing out before his eyes, and here he was watching it, without an 
explanation as to how he'd gotten here. 
	The crush of the men  was impossible to escape. He found himself 
slashing through the hoards of men with the sword that was in his hand. 
Blood was everywhere....

And suddenly, he was back in Annag's home. The bloody scene melted away 
into the crisp lines and colors of the stained glass window.  

End Chapter three.