The Mother Goose of the Wild Hunt, a tale once known but now lost to time.

"TheWild Hunt, it comes, the Storm King's on his way,

With minions in black and dark horses at bay. 

Through hell's fiery gates, they search far and wide.

The Wild Hunt is nearing, the Storm King to ride. 

Come the morn by the hearth, if a black pup you see, The storm shall then end, set the tempest free."

There was a time when the world was shrouded in the soot of coal. 

London in the year of 1914. 

In those times, the night fog was believed to carry disease, much like the lingering breath in the lungs of the departed. Such notions might seem mere superstitions now. 

The public, naively enthusiastic and trusting in science, had just begun to view magic as mere superstition. This honeymoon of science and the people would eventually end with the unprecedented mass slaughter enabled by science during World War I.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The morning of April 29, 1914. 

An elderly couple recited their prayers before breakfast.

 "Dear Lord, we sincerely thank You for this meal before us. Bless us with its nourishment and fill our hearts with joy and gratitude. Amen."

Then, their granddaughter, five-year-old Elisabeth, chimed in with 'Amen.' 

It was still difficult for her to recite the prayers along with her grandparents.

"Well said, Liese. Now, let's offer a heartfelt prayer for your mother, and then it's time for breakfast."

Grandmother Margarete smiled at Elisabeth. 

A gentle smile, like steam rising from the pot, shared with her husband Hermann, directed towards their granddaughter. 

When Elisabeth closed her deep blue eyes and joined her hands at her forehead, the couple also closed their eyes in silent prayer. 

A quietness enveloped the room, a calm stillness, long after a loved one's passing. 

As the tea in the pot reached its perfect brew, Margarete opened her eyes and, with her granddaughter in her thoughts, conveyed the usual lesson.

 "Your mother Ilse was influenced by socialism and was executed. 

She was always preoccupied with the plight of the poor and neglected our family. 

You must grow up to be an adult who always puts your loved ones first."