The Stories - A collection of shorts

001 - The Book Keeper

Greetings, I see you have found your way here, may I ask how you came to find this place? I must say I am rather curious

In the meantime, I have some requests before you truly begin this story. Do not worry, they are nothing serious. All I ask is that you get as comfortable as possible, perhaps treat yourself to your favourite beverage, or even some quiet music. Whatever makes you happy, all I ask is that you are comfortable.

Now, to start off with, I shall tell you my story before any others.

~~~

I lived a simple life, with a mother, a father and a large dog I had found as a puppy and raised with help from my parents. Nothing much happened when I was a child, just the usual things that I suppose would have happened to the average "Joe Bloggs" as you would say. But as I grew, I found something to be weird.

My mother aged, as did my father and dog, but once I hit a certain age, I stopped. I no longer remember how old I was, only that I stopped ageing while those around me continued their journey towards death. It was a strange experience for me, I must admit, to have to watch as my parents and beloved dog grew old and died, while I stayed young for what seemed to be eternity.

Eventually though, I was driven away from my home, as the people around feared me, called me a witch and claimed I was practising dark magic. They forced me to run, and forced me to hide in the forest around my village as they tore past the trees, flaming torches in their hands and angry shouts on their lips, fuelled only by fear and anger. But it was enough to drive me out like a rat, and I soon disappeared to a place far, far away.

I stayed there for years, too afraid to leave in case I was once again driven away. I became afraid of making attachments, afraid of making friends, afraid of everything except what I had in my small little cave I called home. Soon, I began to forget what the outside world looked like, and struggled to recall the feeling of the sun upon my face, or the wind against my arms. My memories no longer included the moon, or the sea, or even my parents' faces.

I suppose that's why I was so happy to see the book.

It was simple in appearance, just a faded brown leather book, with a faded bronze buckle to keep it shut. There was no title on the front, nor the back, and the spine was faded, the leather crinkling from use. I wondered who had put it there, for I had not left, and no one had entered or even knew about my home by then. But then curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the book against better judgement.

Light spilled out, followed by a multitude of candles, and I shut my eyes against the glare, ignoring how the book seemed to be glued to my hand and didn't fall despite the strong wind whipping my hair over my face. The temperature rose and fell within my cave, papers whipping around and my sight obscured by hair until it all stopped. The wind fell away, my sight was returned and I opened my eyes the tiniest crack to see what damage had been done.

My home was in chaos, paper was strewn everywhere like a child had thrown it around carelessly and many things from my shelves had fallen down, some were even cracked and splintering. My bed was a mess, the sheets thrown everywhere and my pillows had been thrown somewhere I couldn't see. But none of that mattered, because in front of me, something else had happened.

Above the book in my hands, there was a line of three candles with violet coloured wax that had no flame. They were short stubs with barely any string left, and I felt a sense of familiarity when I looked at them. There were also two other candles with ordinary white wax. One had a flame of the most amazing red colour, blazing bright even on the darkest night, and something deep within me told me that the red candle was mine. The other had a beautiful violet flame, and when I reached out to touch it, a shadow sneaked out and materialised as a young man. He smiled at my shock.

"My name is Kane," he said calmly, taking my candle in his hand. "And I am known as the Book Keeper." His violet eyes studied the crimson flame.

"Right? And why are you here?" I said quietly. The man, Kane, smiled sadly now, his eyes never leaving my candle's roaring flame.

"Because my time has come to an end, and now I must find someone to entrust my duties too. It has taken me a great many years to find you, but now that I have, I know I can safely entrust my book to you."

"Is that why I haven't aged?" Kane nodded, taking his candle in his free hand.

"Yes, you were destined to become the next Book Keeper. Now, I must warn you that this may feel strange." I tilted my head as he brought my candle closer to his face.

"Why—" I never got to finish my sentence, because Kane blew out the flame of my candle, and I dropped to the floor, dead.

~~~

I could not tell you how long it was until I woke up, for I felt as though I was drifting through and endless abyss of comfortable darkness. It seeked only to calm me, wrapping gently around my body and lulling me into a peaceful sleep from which I awoke from crumpled on the floor of my cave, the leather bound book laying shut on the floor in front of me.

I rose slowly, expecting to feel pain, but was pleasantly surprised to feel nothing at all. My hands didn't even tremble as I picked up the book and tried to open it to the first page. However, it wouldn't let me, and the pages flipped of their own accord to a seemingly blank page. I tapped it with a finger, and a line of candles flew out again. They were the candles of the Book Keepers, as I then knew, and only one was now alight.

My candle had originally burned a beautiful crimson colour, but was now a bright violet, far brighter than that of the previous Book Keeper, whose flame was now extinguished, though his candle's wax was a calming pastel violet.

With a sigh, I stood up, shutting the book and clutching it under one arm. There was a tugging in my chest, letting me know that I was needed. Someone was about to be born or die, and as the Book Keeper, it was up to me to record it properly.

So, with a lighter heart and a purpose within my mind, I took my first step out of my cave and into the light of day and the big world.

~~~

I have lived as the Book Keeper for centuries now, recording deaths and birth and even watching over some lives I have found interesting. Through this, I must admit to developing a certain type of affection for you and your people. Even through hardship and tragedy, you humans still find a way to fight through it. And even if you don't, you are still seen as honourable.

But I don't understand how you can cheer some tragedy-struck people on, and yet shame and shun others with similar problems? Or even why you fight amongst yourselves for being different? Why do you have to place blame on someone who has done nothing wrong? And why do you defend those that have done wrong simply because they are the same as you? You humans truly confuse me to no end.

But I digress, this is not about my thoughts of you humans, but instead about stories I have heard and read over the years. You see, you humans are not the only ones whose lives and deaths I record.

So please, get comfortable, and enjoy these stories, as I must say they are personal favourites of mine. And please, do not hesitate to tell me your opinion, I would very much like to hear your point of view.

Now, let us start with the wonderful story about the Great Witch of the Sea, Lallana, and her beloved student, Clarissa.