Craggle's Tales of Splendor

Lilypop hobblet and cast away Joe,

Eckles and mob-stops still tickle the toes.

Droplets and goblets my cadence is free,

Wash away darkness, like gloss on the sea.

A child's voice pierced through thick blackness. The sound waves from her song glowed silver as they rippled across the water's surface and into tangled vines and cracking branches. The song's light travelled through the muggy muck and dark abyss, casting a glimmering pathway.The swampy creek was littered with mulch and wooded debris, yet the boat moved effortlessly through the clutter. Thisck weeds snapped easily against the boat's keel and decaying tree limbs and dying roots shifted from their muddy graves allowing passage to the vessel and it's young traveler.

She was perched on the bow. A girl no more than five years of age, dressed in white linen. A soft, silvery glow radiated around her porcelain figure, providing light where there had been none. Comfortably sitting with her feet off to her side, hands rested on her lap, she gazed powerfully into the misty black while her song continued unbroken. It was an ongoing musical phrase that seemed to propel the boat forward. 

Kensington billow and fair brooks stock, 

The trees are listening, but they dare not talk.

"I wanna know what all this singing's 'bout," demanded a leathery man sitting in the back of the boat. 

"Shh! Brax," one of his companions harshly whispered. "You want the whole of Cragton to come poking about?" Three men occupied the stern. Two of the men were alert and edgy, armed with a wooden staffs and metal hooks. The third was an older, wrinkled barneby, relaxed against the side, staring up at the stars, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.  

Brax lowered his voice to a panicky whisper, "I just want to know what's going on! Three days of sailing in a swamp, fighting off devilish wolves and pick'n toads. Ah, but I still don't know what we're doing, where we going, who she is, and why she keeps on singing on!" His voice slowly increased decibels until his first companion grabbed Brax's collar, and frantically whispered "Shh!" 

Brax pushed him aside scoffing and cussing softly, "Crabin, you fix off. You don't know the upside or downside of this trekin' neither." 

"I know enough to keep my mouth shut and glued-"

"Yeah, you's glued with watered muck and potato pepper."

Crabin ripped out his chains ready for a fight when suddenly the third companion's low voice reverberated through the banter.

"The singing's what keeps us undead." 

Unsatisfied with that answer, Brax kicked up a rusty chain from the floor of the vessel and wrapped it tightly around his weathered hands preparing to mutiny. But he never got the chance, because in that moment the trees came alive.