September 1991
“Walking about the carnival fair with Jon, then alone, wandering, whilst on the fringes roams the faceless one. Cowled in white, invisible, darkness, malicious, hater of music, roaming the carnival.
Did you see the great music box, and hear its chanting melody, its incantation lost? It alone the creature robed in white avoids. He remembers the words.
And then he senses you at the fair, and knows you for what you are, light child, and hates you. Can you avoid his power? You must escape the carnival where he roams, out to the edge of the shapeless void beyond. And there stand the ruins of a church, standing but shuttered, the decrepit bell-tower piercing up into the darkness. So you climb the bell rope into the tower, and pray that you remain hidden, and hope that place may protect you.
But the creature follows; He knows you too well. And now you are trapped up there, powerless, and his laughter echoes hollow. He stands below, staring up, determining your end.
But do you remember the music box, with its chanting melody? He hates the music. He fears the music. The words are forgotten, but you were born into the words, they do not matter. It is truth, and the truth is yours. So make the words as you go along. Just sing . . . (the words were lost but this was their spell…)
You have no power over me . . .
The faceless one screams his pain and defeat. The song is too strong for him to bear. He cannot touch you. It is dissolving him, and his power is vanquished. And suddenly there is another presence to be felt, one that had been imprisoned, light bottled, suffocated in silence. But his power over her is dying, and now she has the strength to break free. In his scream he holds out a leaden bottle in his hand, clutching it, but the thing shatters, she shatters it, and flies out, soaring exultant in the music towards you. Light Spirit, Fire Sprite, you are free . . .”