Territories: Track 8 (5:57)
"This is the blood that has flowed out of Thunderclap and threatens to drown our side of the world, he thinks, and it will not be for untold years that he will finally rediscover his time inside the ball and put this memory together with Eddie's dream and tell his com-padres, as they sit in the turnpike breakdown lane at the end of the night, that he was wrong, that he had been fooled by the brilliance, coming as it did, so hard on the heels of Thunderclap's shadows." Stephen King-Wizard and Glass
This CD is really special. it's not something you put on when you're going to sleep or for relaxation (the music is to intense for that). This is something you put on to get in the mood for The Dark Tower" - Hans-Ake Lilja, Liljas Library
You awaken from a fitful night. Wiping the sleep out of your eyes, you get up and walk over to the window. After pulling back the curtains, you look out at the village that has been your home for the last seven sunsets. The village that has taken you in and made you welcome after your long, lonely trek along the beach. The streets are deserted, very unusual for this time of day. Something is different. Something is wrong.
Your gaze rises above the village itself and stops at a jagged mountain range on the horizon. The peaks of this range jut up into the sky like rotten teeth sticking out of a shattered skull. The mountains separate this world, a world of beauty and light, from a much darker place. This other place is a world that has moved on. Most of the villagers will not mention its name. Those that do will only do so in a whisper, afraid of being overheard by the dark forces that want this world to move on as well. The name of this place is Thunderclap.
On the best of days, the Thunderclap Mountains are foreboding but today, dark clouds are streaking over the mountaintops, blotting out the sun and shrouding the village in darkness. A chill runs down your spine and gooseflesh rises on your neck.
Suddenly the door behind you swings open and one of the town elders bursts into your room. He is carrying a sword on his belt, and a scythe in his left hand. He runs up to you and grabs you roughly by the shoulder. There is a wild look in his usually cool, blue eyes.
"Hurry! Hurry! You must leave before it is too late! You need to leave now!" he screams. "They're coming! They're coming!"
Shaken, you are silent for a moment, but finally manage a reply. "Who's coming? And why do I have to leave?" You look at the man's tired, worn face. He has calmed down a bit, but his eyes are still wild, darting from side to side.
"The Wolves are coming. They're coming for the children. They're coming for the children like they always do. And they'll take you too! They know that you are the only hope for this world, and they'll take you just as sure as you are standing here, of that you can be sure!"
"The Wolves? Who are the Wolves and…"
The man interrupts. "We do not have time for this!"
You gently remove the man's hand from your shoulder and take a step back away from him. Sensing that you are not going anywhere without an explanation, the elder stops for a moment, takes in a deep breath and begins to explain.
"The Wolves are minions of the dark forces that want this and all worlds to move on. Every generation or so, the Wolves come down from the Thunderclap Mountains and ravage the countryside. They leave unspeakable destruction in their wake, and take the weakest among us, the children, back to the mountains with them so they can torture them, and devour them, at their leisure."
The man stops, unsure as to whether or not he should continue. Finally, in a halting voice, he looks you straight in the eye and says, "This time, however, is different. They aren't coming just for the children. This time, they are also coming for you. They know that you can destroy them and save the Dark Tower, and they are not going to let that happen."
Fear grips you and you feel sick to your stomach. You sit down on the edge of the bed, afraid that you will faint. You look up at the man who is now standing over you. You no longer see fear in his eyes. Instead, you see pity. "What should I do?" you whisper.
"The men of the village are going to fight. Most of them are already on their way to the mountains to battle the Wolves before they can reach the village."
Again, the man lays his hand on your shoulder, but this time in a fatherly manner. "You, my friend, must leave. You must continue your quest and follow the Beam. It is the only hope for you… and for us."
You slowly nod your head in understanding. You pack up your meager belongings and continue your journey, afraid to leave, but more afraid to stay.
You will never return this way again, nor will you know that the men of the village are successful in their fight against the Wolves. Your presence gave them the hope and strength they needed to be victorious, but your thoughts, and battles, lie ahead.
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