THIS ODD & PECULIAR ASSORTMENT

☽ The Cosmic Observatory ☾

(Prologue Part 1)

The Cosmic Observatory was in complete disorder.

Mighty rumbles shook its foundations at irregular intervals, causing the interior to shudder and rattle in tandem. Accompanied by the chimes of clanging objects, a cloud of detritus cascaded down and coated everything in a fine layer. The usual, meticulous order of the place was now more reminiscent of a library that had been hit by a tornado. Countless books and scrolls were lying strewn about, thrown down all over without a second thought. They also covered a significant portion of the expansive central desk; claiming the entirety of its bulk. Only the large legs were visible beneath the flood of clutter, and their fluted shape gave the impression that they were bending under the weight - if such were possible for the impressive piece of mahogany furniture. The intricate table apron with breathtaking carvings depicting all sorts of celestial bodies was all but invisible in the shadows of overhanging papers. A brass quill stand and a big, beautiful inkwell would have been threatened to vanish under an avalanche of tomes and parchments if not for their elevated place atop a cherry wood stand. Its sorting compartments contained more writing implements and a few other odds and ends of various nature.

Towering bookshelves encircled the space of the pentagonal room. Tomes and scrolls also sat there, albeit in a more orderly fashion, but the gaps between them suggested the origins of the surrounding chaos. In between the five bookshelves, each situated at one side of the room, were archways leading into darkness, and vague outlines in the gloom hinted at a sprawling expanse beyond the limited visibility of the present moment. Positioned before one of the high bookshelves was a very tall rolling ladder. It provided access to the loftier regions of storage and a means to get to the broad balcony circling the entirety of the Observatory. Five walkways connected each corner of the balcony to a central platform. They were made of an opaque material with a slight iridescence akin to frosted glass. A massive telescope sat there, its smooth metal surfaces shimmered with soft reflections of the sparse light that reached the soaring heights. It was not an ordinary telescope. Not only due to its gargantuan size and fascinating build, but also because of the countless movable lenses affixed to its front. An innumerable amount of knobs, buttons, and screws was distributed all over it and enabled fine adjustment. The Observatory lacked a ceiling, but instead, a monumental glass dome crowned the structure, offering the telescope a clear line of sight. An extraordinary and incomprehensible moving mechanism allowed the telescope to be positioned in any desired orientation.

Yet another quake shook the Observatory, the upheaval causing fine debris to descend anew on every available surface. The overloaded desk in the middle of the room had taken on a quite dusty appearance, with all but a small section buried beneath written records.

This was where the Observer sat now - perched on the desk itself - something unimaginable under ordinary circumstances. After all, the purpose of desks was to sit at them, not to sit on them. But the Observer, much like his dwelling, was also in complete disarray.

What to do? Events like these had never happened before.

The Observer had tried to calculate the implications and consequences - but was at a complete loss. Today had left him in utter confusion, an uncomfortably alien feeling for him. It was impossible to oversee all the spanning, interwoven connections! They did provide certain opportunities, though, did they not?

Would he even be able to do this? After all, his purpose was to observe, not to... make.

Even an extensive delve into his notes had not provided him with any deeper insight. This was another point adding to the Observer's unease - never before had he been forced to consult his written records. As much as he might enjoy reading in general, they were more of a pastime than a real necessity. Despite his love for the written word, he wasn't dependent on it; he remembered everything, and he had to stop second-guessing himself, for Cosmic's sake.