The Stars' Keeper

Record Two

In my days as a younger Keeper I had been foolish enough not to marvel upon what the costs and benevolences would come with my decisions. It was such a thought that didn't come to my mind; that when the dilemma arose from the broken sarcophaguses at my feet, when the skin taut with youth, became severed that I began to revel in the thoughts, what is it that I could possibly benefit from in a lifetime built upon solitude?

During the early moments of my time I had made brash decisions. The Keeper of Stars being the biggest, the loss of immense amounts of stardust being the last. Back so long ago I'd thought, no, I felt that I should rush. It wasn't a considered thought that I was carrying someone else's shell haphazardly.

The Elder Keeper had requested that I would bring all the new arrivals to the northern sphere. At the time I was still quite unfamiliar with the temple and its vastness seemed more of an infinite sea with a tarnished glow. The creators made quite the abstract building many eons ago and all sections - from Northern hemisphere to Southern were all too alike. When walking along the rows it was easy to lose track of where one may be. The temple is so large of a circle that the rows of shelves appear to be one long hall, that if one were to simply wander they would complete a full circle without realization it had been done so.

In my hands were five jars, the absolute maximum I felt I could carry without casualty. They tinkled like fairy wings against each other with each step I took in the labyrinth. They were the first batch of many, hundreds more left in the foyer, littering the cold black marble floors like the eggs of a damsel fly. Luncheon hour had been long since past and the work only lightly dusted upon. Hunger in my core chanted for fulfillment and I wanted nothing more than to silence the lions within. The Elder Keeper had strictly laid out the rules - Carry no more than one at a time. You are dealing with the dead, not debris. Such a fool I was not to listen to his rule.

Mid-way through such an excursion I had felt that I knew the Northern sphere like the veins on the backs of my hands. It should not have been the surprise it was then, that I got lost amongst the assimilated shelves. Being lost in the temple was always a frightening experience.

The realization I was lost didn't come gradually, as I had been very sure of myself that I knew where I was, when I was. Of course, it eventually reached my conscious. The corridors of shelves should have reached some empty spaces where it would have been possible to store the dust away and head back to the unemptied foyer.

A problem I have come to accept about the temple is the atmosphere. It is almost like a dreamscape where even the Keepers are influenced by the trance-like air. Realizing I was lost was like waking from a night terror.
The salted sweat on my palms broke the grip on the jars and when I flustered to bring them back in uniform the containers fell from my arms like water pouring from higher than these heavens. The sound of glass shattering resonated in the curved space like a ripple and wave.

Five anonymous bodies made of stardust were mixed together with sprinkles of glass breaking through the ashes like thorns on a flower stem. A shard had struck my foot as if the Elder Keeper had given punishment from a distance. When I bent to pull the icy evil out I could feel how it punctured deep and kept me rooted steadfast to the floor despite the pain felt from the posture. The slick of my life stained the tips of my fingers and robe as I pulled the deadly item out.

Behind me, I didn't know how the Elder Keeper knew these things, he tapped his cane against the floor twice then once across the broad of my back. When I turned I saw the rapidly dulling stardust in the pits of his eyes. No more mistakes, Immanent.

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