Carolers of Christmastide Page 2
One by one, as the day fades and the mist clings and the fresh snow builds, they regroup at the tavern - the fire roars, the lights sparkle and the air bathes with a fragrance of spices and an air of good humor - as the the full magic of Christmas Eve settles in.
Still twilight, although it has been near that all day with the encroaching snow and saturation of winter elves of all sorts - inner elsprights of all aspects.
“There is definitely some Holiday mischief afoot - this keeps happening - look behind the bar - that’s him - it’s been weird all day - lots of surprise encounters,” one of their band says as they gather around a table.
Two others carry over another table to accommodate their growing numbers, one adding “I’ve had that, too - didn’t know he was a bartender,” the other says “me neither - he doesn’t look any happier - and my goodness, look over in the far corner, isn’t that her?”
They all peer through the blur of revelers and twinkling lights, the lil tavern abuzz.
The Christmas tree and the fire and the carols fill the tavern with a magical warmth, the spirits of the gatherers mix with the elsprights and other missives of the wily ones on this sacred Eve.
One already seated says, “Actually, some of us knew he did this after hours, but he kept it to himself pretty well. As for her, a lot of us have wondered what she does after the intensity wears off.”
Another adds, “and of that, I’m not sure any of us really new, but a many of us had an idea - she needs the excitement of our group, but underneath that forceful way, she doesn’t easily buddy with people - this is no surprise.”
“Amazing, isn’t it - how much our overall group revolves around those two, but how divided we have become even about them.”
They are quiet for a moment, glances all around, “we’re buddying very well, aren’t we” - one says for all.
“Yes - and here, in the middle of the action, so to speak, is more of a cross-section of our overall group to get together in a while - and there, and there,” pointing to Nez and Bah, “our leaders are off by themselves.”
“True - a very long while since we have managed this…”
“…sad we’ve become so divided - our mission is so special.”
“And look at look at them - both alone in their own different ways - he is always talking to customers, but I recognize that detached look of his - and her, usually surrounded by people, now by herself in a dark corner.”
“Interesting - a lot like he talks to us.”
Silence settles upon them - the fragrance soothes - their conscience is one.
…as the dark outside deepens and the glow inside grows, so does their impromptu rendezvous - “maybe we are all just exhausted - today has been draining” “I know I am - totally frazzled - so many sensations and thoughts at once.”
“Maybe it really is elves of some sort” “Ha Ha, but yes, maybe - I do believe in collective spirit - it’s so powerful at Christmas - - has a life of its’ own” “Whew - maybe the ghosts are already visiting,” general laughter from the rag tag assembly.
“Cheers mate” - they all hoist, torn between this bit of renewal of their clan - and all the nastiness that has transpired.
“On a good note - this can be a turning point - but it is sad - right here, on opposite sides of this wonderful tavern, full of warmth on Christmas Eve, our too founders are not taking part - maybe its’ our turn to pull us together.”
Alone amid the throng, both of them, he pushing the drinks, smiling and gesturing, the practiced responder…
…inside of him it is a crush of thoughts and feelings, my clan - look at them, never seen them get along so - crazy mix - need to get out of here - and her, staring back…
…his counter, the one usually hugging and cheering everyone, always having to be in the forefront, now relegated to the far corner by herself in her own stew of notions, her usually loud voice now deep inside, yelling at herself I love them all so - I see you buddies - you're better off on this beautiful eve without me - without him - I must go…
…as if on cue - surely something powerful is working in the spiritual realm as the night closes in on Christmas - maybe it's the missives working their mischief - surely the sprights have noticed and homed in - the masters and their spiders moving the ether- almost simultaneously our two understand that it is time to depart…
As in a soft embrace of the elemental spirits of Christmastide, Ol Bah and Nez take their leave…
…Chastened and dismissed, they trudge home in the snow - she swiftly out the front door of the tavern - they are better off with me gone…
…and he out the back - giving up the pretense of warmth and joy - can’t take it…
…their brethren, they are one this Christmas Eve - finally - full of notes - of the carols, of each other - of their hero’s departure…
…separating from it all, at last, free and dancing with the els, their realm in a new view…
…a renewal, a movement of souls, of theirs and one another and of their two - the spirits, the ghosts, the elsprights - all in play, turning, embarking on a fresh venture into the holy night…
…the elsprights have finally won the moment.
Exhausted and spent they all are - consumed with the day, with Christmas, with each other and the loss of their heros turned nemesis’s…
…finally they all slip away, too, and head home in a shared state, the ghosts of Christmas upon all of them - the crazy mist and snow pelting, the memories fresh and stinging, all a blur…
Was so glorious when we began… they really are the ones that spurred us… gave us strength… now so reduced… we accomplished so much but… oh the tormentors…
They dwell in their own places of the mind. Completely overtaken by the infinite aspects being woven together tonight - their inner voices elevated and emerged.
Those wily ones, they pour it on, satisfied that more emissaries are being added to their flock - more ethereal spiders embodied in the spirits of the gentlefolk as they make their way - separated and now joined, shocked and soothed and now filled with passions, they are moving into the infinite both apart and together…
…they have made progress out of the chaos, and so the masters concentrate their force…
…upon the two, their fellow sprights, truly, in full flower when they championed the noble cause - but now are lost - here is the key, the Center that has diminished - but there is always hope in the place of these eternal magi - there is always time, and sometimes, fleetingly there is true opportunity amid it all - and this height of Christmastide is surely it.
Nez and Bah, truly alone now except for their tormentors, or so they feel - more than ever during this strange season…
…their minds flitting from one image to another, from beautiful to ugly, the invading elements are overwhelming…
…her loves, his beloved young fellows - we were so close… I’m so sorry… their breaths catch… on their memories they choke… their tormentors won’t let them alone… my words… my looks… the hurt I cause… we are going crazy… they descend further…
…their minds flitting from one image to another, from beautiful to ugly, the invading elements are overwhelming…
…but they are not really alone - there are all the others…
…many are more positive - even joyfully mischievous - these els - provoking and prodding them, and many others to places new and long forgotten…
…they, the spirits, they are prying, into separate worlds and playfully bringing about connections, causing collisions, creating a benevolent kind of chaos…
In a fog, a cloud, a purely altering swirl of thoughts and sensations are the gentlefolk - a jarring mix of sensations and notions darting and weaving…
…add in the music of bells and carolers and warm spirits…
… in tune with a soft whisper of snow blossoms dan
cing and blanketing…
…and warring with besieging tormentors who are also in full swirl, jarring indeed, stoking a haze that they brave…
…the masters launch their own notes upon the music of the night, their force as one with the carolers…
…“It really is a war out there - dispersed and bedeviled they are at what should be a high point of collective spirit - we must help…”
“Indeed - redouble our emissaries - intensify the els - launch evermore of our ethereal spiders - weave everywhere and in all dimensions.”
And they do - as they lose their grip and fade, they also sense something else, a critical point - still down but at the same time elevated by the elemental forces, the Carolers of Christmastide.
Intent on doing right things, the citizens stagger home, unsteady with sensations - ever so softly the touches of renewal begin to sustain…
…they still hear the wining and bellowing of attacks for harm’s sake - that cry never stops, but the counter is building on this holy night…
…the warrior folk hear these other voices - far more faint and surreal - easily missed and overlooked amid the shouts and noise - but struck by the symphony of