[ WP ] A group of people worship a small , plain , clear glass marble . You touch it , and realise why .

Alena could see a great gathering in the distance. Tent poles stood from the sand, over twenty meters in height. The throngs of people and animals were a welcome sight after the long journey from Phoenicia. Applause began to ring out as the announcement of there arrival began to ripple through the crowds. Chanting in a foreign tongue, and spontaneous dancing broke through the crowd, in what seemed like choreographed madness. Alana quickly glanced over at her father. 
 
 A large smile engulfed the mans leather face. They had made it. 
 
 `` Father this sand will never wash off!'' Alana complained. 
 
 `` Quiet child, we have made it, let us enjoy a moment of this trip without your whining. You have no idea how lucky we are.'' 
 
 Indeed they were lucky, three other caravans had been ordered and both had left earlier. The desert had dangers. Heat and dehydration were always feared. Poisonous stinging scorpions loved the shade of the canvas on the tents. One had to check bedding carefully. Most well known of all the dangers to the outsider was the sandstorm, the legendary wall of sand blinding the camp, and the camels that they rode. They had hired legendary guides, by far the greatest expense of the journey. It was because of this knowledge they were warned of the sandstorms true peril. The great desert winds fueled a raging thunderstorm refilling the riverbeds where less seasoned travelers camped washing away there precious cargo in thirty feet deep rivers. 
 
 The father watched carefully as the crowds began to part, loud songs turned to whispers as an old man hobbled towards them. His long white robes trailed in the sand. He was hunched over his cane, his spine curving towards the ground as if the air itself was too heavy for the man. 
 
 `` Greetings friends!'' His voice boomed over the sands, over the whispers. `` You have arrived!'' 
 
 A loud eruption of applause and cheering went forth from the crowd. Her father dismounted from the camel and embraced the man warmly as if old friends. 
 
 The old man turned to the crowd again `` Shall we begin?'' 
 
 The crowd roared as the old man pulled gingerly from the caravan the sacred cloth. It was a deep crimson purple, a true masterpiece, twenty yards long. The first of four such banners. 
 
 `` Tryian purple!'' my father announced. `` There is no finer dye in all the world. Over a hundred men labored for a year for this! 
 
 It was all true, my father oversaw the process. It took two years to complete this order. Hundred of thousands of snails were carefully gathered from the shore of Tyre. Only a small part of the snail was used. A gland hiding a treasure greater then the pearls of Neptune. The gland was removed from the snails with a fine tool, and smeared over a small plate. As the sun dried it, the clear mucous would turn to dark rich purple. The outer husk of the snail was discarded. Kings and gods were the only benefactors worthy of such high quality work. 
 
 
 
 Amidst the celebration great white tents appeared from the red sand. The elders of the village gathered around the caravan. They presented him with chest after chest of silver, worth many lifetimes of savings. The body guards we hired took the silver and placed it under there care. There would be no celebration for them until we were safely home. 
 
 The old man beckoned for us to join him in the tent. They followed through the crowds, whose exulted praise and gratitude, would embolden even the shyest spirit. They sat next to the elder as fine wine and food were brought before them. The silver platter in front of them was full of the finest cheeses, figs, dates honey and melon they had ever seen. They brought in the skewers of lamb wrapped around large wooden poles, carefully filleted for the honored guests. 
 
 They waited for the elder to eat. `` Enjoy, eat relax tonight! Stay with us friends.'' 
 
 Her father smiled. `` We would not turn down such a feast for all the world! Thank you for your kindness!'' 
 
 The elder grinned `` No thank you, because of your efforts we can finally honor our God!'' He gestured to the back of the tent. A second tent had been crafted. Long flowing purple banners surrounded the tent. Armed guards were posted, glaring at them. Curved blades shimmered in the sun. 
 
 `` What is back there? Alena inquired. 
 
 Her fathers menacing look made it clear she had asked too much. However the old man grinned. 
 
 `` Would you like to see child?'' 
 
 Her father interrupted. `` No that is all right, we are not worthy of stepping foot on holy ground!'' 
 
 The old man laughed, `` Of course only myself and those I select can ever go behind the veil, but tonight you have brought us your countries greatest treasure, and I would be remiss if I did n't show you ours. After we eat I will take you.'' 
 
 The laughter and music continued, but Alena could n't hear it. She watched the old man excited for the moment he put down his fork. After what seemed like eternity the old man struggled to his feet and gestured towards Alena. She followed behind him carefully. A silent spell fell over the whole community as they walked toward the tabernacle. 
 
 The old man removed his shoes. He dipped his fingers into a bowl of crystal clear water. He placed his fingers gently on Alenas forehead. The guards ceremoniously partitioned for entry. Through the purple banners they passed into a small tent. On a golden alter sat a small clear glass marble. 
 
 `` You may look but you must not touch the marble Alena.'' 
 
 His words barley registered to her, as her body was floating towards the marble, her eyes drawn downward into the glass. She placed her face near it's surface surprised to see that her breath did not fog the glass. The polished gem though unmatched in clarity, somehow seemed to stretch the room to impossible lengths. As she gazed deeper into the marble, she felt a hand reach towards her, as she unknowingly reached towards the marble. 
 
 In an instant her field of vision lengthened and stretched towards an infinite horizon, pulled into an infinite field of view she found her eyes no longer able to focus. As her soul was ripped from her body, it spiraled into the marble which no longer had it's clear glass, but instead shone a translucent tyrian purple. As the light grew brighter the entire tent began to glow. From the other side of the marble she watched as her body was held by the old man whose kind grin had turned to a malicious laugh. As she watched trapped inside the glass her body outside the marble began to jolt and jostle. With a deep gasp Alena body came to life. Alena watched in horror as the old man led the impostor who had stolen her body to the sounds of celebration. 
 
 
 
 

