Eleanor's Metaphor-Personal Narrative

I had stumbled upon Them accidentally. In the dark, all the paths looked the same, and something, some strange sort of power, had lured me here. The cavern glistened with eerie blue lights, fluttering around the room, never staying still for long. Welling up from the deep caves, the sound of soft music could be heard – pipes, harps, and enchanting, mystical singing. Below the balcony of rock where I sat, I could see figures scurrying about with trays laden with rich food, chattering to one another in birdlike voices.

They had not seen me yet, it would have been a perfect chance to escape. But I was held in place by the sweet sound of the music. Captivated, I watched as the first figures (Servants, they must have been a kind of servant) stepped
“Please...” my voice was small, quivering, but it was there. “I have a wife, children... They will starve without me.” I hadn't seen Eleanor in nearly a year. All the money I had left, after feeding myself, went to her and my boys, but the poaching season was over now, and I could finally go home. If I made it out of here, that was.

“Children? How many? Do you love them dearly? We are ever so fond of children.” Something in her voice filled me with dread. I didn't want to put them in any danger, but my mouth moved without my consent, her presence commanding me to speak.
“Six... I do, with everything I have.” My pride tossed aside, I began to beg. “I will do anything, give you anything, please, I must go back to them.”

She laughed. A chilling, terrifying laugh. “Very well.” I had not expected her to agree so easily. “You may leave here, unharmed, on two conditions.” That didn't sound so hard. What could she possibly want? She was a witch, a fairy Queen. She had everything.

“The first; You do not speak a word of what you have seen, not even to your wife. You must keep it a secret until you die.” I could have laughed – that was easy. If I told, they would lock me up and call me a madman. “Do you agree?”

“I