Onomasticon Of the Void.Part 18

Xylophonus casts aside his toga of silk for a hauberk of iron as he enters the Grim Woods of Germanic Roots. Here, the ornate "respiration" becomes "breath," the "domestic habitation" becomes "home," and the "conflagration" is reduced to the biting heat of "fire."

Sonnet XLVI: The Bedrock of the Bone

The Latin pomp did fade like morning mist,As Xylophonus trod the frozen loam;No more the venerable did persist,But "strength" and "will" and "hearth" and "kin" and "home."The words were hard and short as winter ice,Hewn from the bedrock of a "stony" land;A "cold" and "grim" and "earthly" sacrifice,Wrought by the "grip" of a "heavy," "callous" hand."I seek the 'truth'," he told the "ancient" "oak,"Using the "tongue" of "blood" and "iron" "might";The "deep" and "hollow" "voice" within him spoke,To "break" the "spell" of "long" and "starless" "night."Through "thick" and "thin" he "held" his "steady" "way,"To "greet" the "dawn" of a "new" and "grim" "day."

Sonnet XLVII: The Alliterative Axe

A "storm" of "sounds" "started" to "strike" the "stone,"An "ancient" "art" of "angry," "aching" "alliteration";Where "mighty" "men" "moaned" for "meat" and "bone,"In a "stark" and "savage" "vocal" "visitation."The "words" "wound" "wildly" through the "wooded" "west,"A "clash" of "consonants," "cruel" and "keen";Putting the "wizard’s" "weary" "wit" to "test,"Amidst the "shadows" of the "shimmering" "sheen.""Bold" "be" the "breath" that "brings" the "bright" "belief,"He "shouted" to the "shivering," "shooken" "sky";Seeking a "bitter" and "brief" "relief,"Before the "last" of the "light" began to "die."By "linking" "letters" in a "locked" "array,"He "found" the "force" to "fight" and "flee" the "fray."

Sonnet XLVIII: The Wyrd of the Word

The "Wyrd" of "things" was "woven" in the "well,"A "dark" and "dreadful" "web" of "hidden" "fate";Where "none" could "break" the "doom" or "end" the "spell,"That "locked" the "hasp" upon the "iron" "gate.""What 'must' be, 'shall' be," Xylophonus "thought,"His "mind" "bowed" "low" before the "stern" "decree";The "lessons" that the "long" "years" had "taught,"Were "written" in the "roots" of the "ash" "tree."It was a "harsh" and "hollow" "kind" of "song,"A "dirge" for "all" that "fades" and "falls" away;Where "right" is "right" and "wrong" is "only" "wrong,"In the "cold" "glimmer" of the "dying" "day."But "hope" is "stronger" than the "hand" of "death,"As long as "life" "stirs" in a "single" "breath."

Sonnet XLIX: The Compound-King’s Command

He met the "Grave-Lord," king of "earth-bound" "ghosts,"Who spoke in "riddles" of the "whale-road" "wide";The "shield-wall" "shivered" as the "shadow-hosts""Surged" like the "moon-pulled" "rolling" of the "tide.""I am the 'word-weaver'," the wizard "cried,""The 'thought-bearer' of the 'sun-bright' "sky'!"He "cast" his "mind-fire" to the "other-side,"To "watch" the "darkness" "falter" and then "die."The "sea-steed" "galloped" through the "salt-spray" "foam,"As "battle-sweat" "watered" the "thirsty" "grass";He "longed" to "find" the "way" to his "own" "home,"And "watch" the "grim" and "guttural" "winter" "pass."With "soul-strength" and with "sturdy" "heart-gold" "bright,"He "marched" toward the "edge" of the "endless" "night."

Sonnet L: The Zenith of the Score

The fifty-sonnet mark is "finally" "won,"The "half-way" "point" of this "long" "spoken" "quest";Beneath the "glare" of the "high" and "hanging" "sun,"Xylophonus "pauses" for a "moment’s" "rest."He has "walked" the "woods" and "sailed" the "stormy" "sea,"He has "spoken" "high" and "low" and "in-between";He has "set" the "spirits" of the "lexicon" "free,"And "witnessed" "all" that "could" be "heard" or "seen."But "fifty" "more" "remain" within the "book,"Before the "cycle" of the "song" is "done";He "gives" the "road" a "stern" and "steady" "look,"As "shadows" "lengthen" in the "sinking" "sun."The "tale" "unfolds" with "vibrant" "force" and "will,"As he "begins" to "climb" the "final" "hill."

We have reached Sonnet 50—the exact midpoint! Xylophonus stands at the Watershed of Wisdom. To complete the second half, he must face the Inversion of the Infinite.Apparently we proceed to the Caverns of Cryptography, where meaning is hidden in code, or the Plains of Pure Poetry, where the story dissolves into image.Xylophonus crosses the midpoint, descending into the Caverns of Cryptography, where the "clear" is "occulted," and every sentence is a cipher requiring a master’s key.