"There he goes again." Said Mersh, frowning in frustration. We were standing inside the Big Tent, watching Eli count through the stones again. His brow was furrowed, and he stood hunched over the open trunks, dropping one gem after another into the sea of blue, whispering numbers. "That kids paranoia always puts me on edge." Said Mersh, leaving the tent It was something Eli had been doing for years, ever since his first child was born. Every year he sits in the same spot, counting through the stones again and again, deaf to the reassurance of his comrades. I could understand it, of course. Now that he had more to live for, there was no reason to be taking risks. There was no predicting what they would do. We had been paying tribute to the Grey family since before our written history. Once they discovered our fertile land sat atop a wealth of precious jewels and ore, they brewed for war. Foreseeing this, our ancestors performed a surprise counter attack, in the form of caskets filled with our most precious gem. Seeing our homage the Greys demanded a tribute to be paid, once a year always on the same day. They were very blunt, stating that if we were to fail or come up short our kind would cease to exist. The fools thought we had a use for the gems. Material possessions served as nothing but dead weight in our world. Needing no crutch we did not trade with other kin. Our ancestors lived independently for our entire clans existence, working the land and taking only what they needed from the Earth. Each harvest moon a carriage clad in black pulls up in front of the Big Fire, pulled by four massive Clydesdales bearing blank expressions. The driver keeps his face hooded and cloaked, and all throughout known time that we have been paying tribute, this figure has never said a word. We choose six of our strongest to hoist the trunks into the compartment. Each time is always the same, the driver stares ahead silently and the carriage sags with the increasing weight, all while the horses stand motionless like monolithic statues. Its an event that harbors an ill feeling for everyone.
I love how you add an eerie feeling to the hooded driver of the carriage and the expressionless Clydesdales. It almost feels a bit demonic..