benighted light

[as i prepare to post the latest developments in my novella-poem, "Sludge White
and the Seven Curmudgeons", it's become apparent to me that two particular
threads might need to be unravelled, for those glimpsing my story through the
excerpts i've been posting.  so i have stitched together the pertinent stanzas
in the twining trajectories of the transcendence of Mock's injuries, and Chester's
insightful transference of light, in hopes that they will serve as preambles for
my latest chapter.  in this first fused excerpt, Squint the cheeky squirrel explains
Chester's nature to Elsbeth, the astonishing ivory owl, as she awaits rescue from
a giant spider's web.  in the second bit, which takes place later, Sable, one of the
'nursemaid' crows who helped raise Sylvana, relates disheartening news, providing
an opportunity for seeing Chester in action.  incidentally, the other set of stitched
stanzas that focus on Mock follow along quite snugly.]

*** ** *** ** *** ** *** ** *** ** ***

the muted grey daylight abruptly vanished

as a leaden veil dully descended,

ridding the horizon of its ghostly outline

its vague hints of depth eclipsed and ended.

thrust in the midst of a sudden sunset

or the twilight midwinter fringing far-flung lands,

the seasoned staff of the People's Free Collective

serenely clasped their sundry paws and hands.

Elsbeth grew anxious and glumly remarked

"that clenches it.  i knew i should have stayed in bed."

"oh, that's just Chester" Squint casually responded.

"nothin' to trouble your cute little head!"

"was that rife with the scent of well-meaning kindness?"

the minstrel asked as he wrinkled his nose.

"not so's you'd notice.  sorry, your Owlness.

Chester's a glimrin.  you've heard of them, i suppose?"

as Elsbeth didn't answer, Squint prattled on.

"they're beings that absorb particles of light.

they sop it all up like gleam-glomming sponges,

to feed their piercing preternatural sight.

the old legends called them 'the Goblin folk',

'cause they gobble the sheen off anything that's bright.

they're polar opposites of Sylvana's princess.

where her skin glows, theirs turn day into night."

Sylvana said "one hears of their hoarding treasure,

a brazen projection of flagrant greed.

for elites set great store by glittering metals

and flashing coins emblazoned with their need.

hence rumours were spread that glimrins were demons,

impish non-persons of a treacherous sort.

thugs were enticed with fabled pots of gold,

genocide rebranded as patriotic sport."

Elsbeth was touched by this woeful disclosure

leaking a pearl from her violet eyes.

"i'm obliged to you for chronicling the role

that intolerance plays in self-serving lies.

while i welcome the chance to fill in the facts

so cunningly and royally redacted,

perhaps one might spare a moment to ponder

just how in the hell we'll get me extracted!"

the bard grinned.  "don't fret so.  we've a glimrin in tow.

theirs is the lore that heals situations.

they're natural mediums with a special knack

for rearranging manifestations.

Elsbeth, this is Chester, our boon companion."

a deeper darkness seemed to herald a storm.

she felt more than saw a negative exposure

an absence of essence, fenced in by form.

*** ** *** ** *** ** *** ** ***

the hunched over Sable paced in a circle,

a pompous professor in a tattered coat.

then fluffing her feathers and puffing out her chest,

she tried a few caws to tune up her throat.

"the lustrous princess has been poisoned by the queen.

they've laid her out in a rose-petalled spread.

perhaps it's a coma or drug-induced sleep,

but i'm not convinced that she's actually dead.

the other Curmudgeons are in Godfrey's Gorge,

staring down a monster that's holding its breath.

while the shifty-eyed fellow is a hostage,

the clever little wry one hovers near death."

Sylvana erupted in heartrending sobs

and the minstrel rushed to her quivering side.

the atmosphere crackled with shattering spirits.

Weepy and Gropey inaudibly cried.

then darkness descended like a disenchantment,

depriving the scene of its sorry light.

for a negative exposure passed through them,

soothing their shock with the somber balm of night.

a wavering arc of embers emerged,

weaving itself in a coalescing spiral;

enveloping Sylvana in a galaxy,

a smidgen of fairy dust gone viral.

the scintillating specks began to change color

from deepest ruby to cerulean blue.

then shivering like a kaleidoscope,

the sparkles and Sylvana receded from view.

"where did she go?" asked a frantic Rashful,

vibrating alarm like a panic-stricken bell.

the bard responded with a calming gesture.

"she'll be travelling with Chester for a spell.

i suppose we'd better pack our belongings

and see about prying your pals from their plight.

most likely that's where Chester is off to.

he's apt to get feisty when our prospects aren't bright."

*** ** *** ** *** ** *** ** *** ** ***

- Evan Hawthorn, the 30^th of May, 2016