The girl woke up. She felt a calm warmth on her skin, with soft grass barely caressing her, waving across with the movement of the winds she could feel blowing around. She felt her hands first, then her nose, then her ears, and she slowly became more and more conscious of her body. She felt her eyelids, and she opened them. Light, bright shining light, lit up her vision, coming from what was last, she recalls, a star in the sky.
She looked away from that bright light in the sky to her side, taking in the sight of a rolling hill of flowers. She loved the sight more every time, shedding a tear in remembrance. She would not forget them. She. Would not. Forget.
She laid there a moment, unmoving, the same sad look locked onto her face. Then, she felt it. In the back of her mind, an image appeared, carrying with it an inherent sense of wrongness. She tried to think of the image, as she had some number of times in the far past, and as was normal she could not think of it. Instead, she heard something. The stars were weeping… in pain. It was a tortured cry, not one of sadness or loss- pure, condensed pain and agony, filling her soul with the cries of those agonized stars. That was nothing new, per-say, but it was far louder than ever before… and deeply hidden behind the weeping was the crack-crack of slowly breaking glass. She spoke the words she had sworn to decades, centuries, and many millennia ago. “Their work is finally taking its last labored breath. In Their Memory; peace among our stars.” A single tear slid down her face. “I think I shall go to witness its final breath. The heart shan’t pass without someone there with it, even if I cannot be there for it in the way They were. Yes, I shall go.”
The girl deftly stood to her feet, not with a jump or a flip but simply rising upwards as if propelled by something else, starting to walk. She was laying down within the center of a circle of flowered hills, and the moment a person steps beyond the ring, they can only behold a sight amongst wonders.
In 8 even directions around the hills lie grand halls and towers set together, forming what one might even call castles, each taking a color. She headed towards the section adorned red, draped across with flags and great painted depictions of scaly and clawed hands pulling other beings up by a firm grasp on the hand. “In memory of their kindness.” She muttered as she entered the gate, well oversized for her by almost an order of magnitude- something much larger had used this, evidently.
This red… fortress, despite the evident lack of a true aim for safety, was large, yet seemed to also have things at levels for those not of the… heightened stature the doors and gates seemed to be built for. Not a speck of dust lined the halls, nor did a single thing seem out of place. This place was preserved as if it was going into a museum… or perhaps, if one thought about it… it was a museum.
The girl walked on and on through the grand hallways and open rooms that filled the place, a focused look consuming her face now. She was recalling many things, many memories, many thoughts from another time- but not another place. She had spent a lot of time here. A smile crossed her face every now and then, too, when a particular memory flickered to the front.
Once more, she uttered those words,“In their memory,” as she came up to a grand stone door. This door held not the red color adorning most of this place, but was instead a natural gray, adorned with incredibly intricate carvings showing many, many, people, from men to elves to plenty of other humanoids, and then on to more beastlike creatures, then along to things that perhaps could not be described so simply as either.
She waved a hand, and everything shook, the door breaking free from what could only be years upon years of staticness, grinding along the ground as it slid open. Behind it was a small pedestal, something at her height rather than grand and overly large like most things here. Upon it lay a book, a large and thick book, with the pages opened to be… roughly halfway through. Halfway down the left page were words, before they cut off.
She walked up to the pedestal and book. “I should take you with me, shouldn’t I?” She held a bittersweet smirk on her face. “Yeah, I should. To put an end to the story that never should have ended. Let’s go.” She took up the book into her hands and wrapped her arms around it, giving it almost a hug, before binding it upon her as if it was a backpack.
She turned around and walked the exact path she came, leaving all doors she went through open.
“Oh…” she muttered. “A visitor. Odd and coincidental timing, but appreciable. I shall go to them.” Then, she vanished. Across the world, in a large flat plateau, she appeared, where something else stood. A metal shell with holes out the back- a ship to traverse the stars. The girl called out in a voice, one so loud that it could not be believed it came from her, yet it did- “I greet you, traveler, as the Chronicler of this ancient tomb. What is your impetus?”
A voice, one obviously made mechanical and not naturally so, spoke out, meeting her volume. “We seek to learn of the past, as those who came before us might have, and tell it once more across the stars. In Their Memory, to the Storyteller’s Creed.”
She smiled widely, truly happy for having met a Storyteller. “I follow the ancient pact, o’ Storyteller. Come out.”
A young Nracian stepped out, a being with hard purple skin and an adult height two heads taller than any human could grow to. This one met her height. Its deep voice rang out, “I greet you as a Storyteller upon my first journey to learn the stars.”
She spoke back to him, “It is an ominous time to begin the chronicling, young one. Might I persuade you to take a new oath, as I seek to? I know what the pact means to us all, for I was there… when it was made, but you will not be able to tell a story when there is no one to listen, my friend.”
The Nracian took upon himself a serious and questioning look. “Do you mean what you say, ancient Chronicler? If you were there when it was made, I would take your counsel.”
She responded shortly and sweetly, “Yes.”
Now with an unsure and almost blank look, he looked into her eyes and asked yet another question, “Then what, perhaps, shall we do?”
She took a firm step towards him. “We shall take a new oath. One… as witnesses.”
“Witnesses? Do I understand what you mean by that correctly, oh ancient?” His voice lifted with a slightly fearful tone, stepping one foot towards her to lower his body, as well as bowing his head down in reverence, realizing who she must be.
“Yes. Raise your head, young one; your forebears did not bow to me.” She looked straight into his now-raised eyes, her voice trembling with a sadness wrought by remembrance. “It is… it’s time. Have you heard the story of those I hold the chronicle of?”
His expression brightened at the mention of a story, before darkening shortly after. “I have. Their work is finally over?”
“Yes.” She paused for a moment, taking a breath. “The time has come.”
“Then, shall we witness it together, at least for a time?” He understood what she wished to do, but still wished to confirm it. “Might I ask what you seek to do?”
A small grin showed on her face. How she loved these clever Storytellers. “We may, and you can. I will travel to the work my parents left behind, and I shall witness it. That is my oath. You shall witness others, those who remain in this Universe, and tell other Storytellers that the time for a new oath is come. You need only tell them my name, and they will know. You will find it amongst your oldest texts. You know who I am, and you have known since I told you of the new Oath.”
“Yes, most ancient chronicler. Or perhaps, now, First Witness. In accordance with that which we have inherited, let us witness the end.” He waved a hand at his ship and a door opened.
“Let’s.”
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They stepped aboard the ship together. “This is of a… different design than I recall ships being of. The drives seem to be based on… dimensional piercing? Not cognitive travel? No wonder far less of your people have visited.”
He brightened, having something to talk about. “Yes. While our people know the method of creating the cognitive drives, only our oldest ships still use them, and those are armed well with stealth methods too. Today, they are a lost technology to many; I, nor the other young, could defend the drives from others. You see, many hundreds of years ago a nation declared a hunt upon our people because we were able to move so much faster, and they wanted that technology! Sadly, they first moved on one of our ancients… and well, that did not turn out quite so well. For that nation, of course. Favors were called upon.”
She took upon an expression of almost bewilderment. “They called favors?”
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He looked at her grimly. “It was Threy.”
She smirked. “Ah, I remember him. He became a Storyteller? That certainly befit his character, even if he was not there for the founding.”
“He still helps raise the young today, with a smile on his face as he watches us all grow.”
Her smile turned bittersweet. “He inherited one of the best of Their traits. In Their Memory.”
“In Their Memory. He truly did.”
They entered the bridge of the decently-sized ship, and took seats.
She sighed, looking out the windows. “It is bittersweet, leaving it behind. I don’t like it. I fear some of my memories of them may drift, may leave my mind. Yet, I know deep down, I have to do it. Their work may have been left undone forever, but I must see what that had wrought, for that is the only thing which remains unchronicled. Perhaps, I shall make my own story while I can. Yes, I think that would be nice.” With a few flicks of some switches and a wave of a hand, the ship began to take off.
“I think so too, great one.”
“Pshaw, call me Ayla. A visitor I took a liking to once called me that, not knowing of my true name, and I found it cute.” She chuckled.
“Then, I shall… Ayla. I have a question. Our order has never kept an exact date of when you forged the oath. How long ago was it?” He looked to her, a very curious gaze on his face. They did not often keep dates of the ancient events, as the Storytellers did not wish to base the weight of things by time.
“Oh… I believe it was perhaps roughly twenty thousand standard years ago? Give or take five thousand. The first Storytellers came to me roughly twenty-seven years after They fell. Your people are the most persevering this universe has ever seen. It makes me wish They had been so, but it is too late to wish for such things. Far too late.”
They spoke at the same time, this time. “In Their Memory.”
“That… is a long time, even in the grand scale of things. I know of not one thing aside from perhaps our Order and you that has lasted that whole time. It puts me in awe.”
“I cannot feel awe at such time periods. It is a grain of sand compared to how long They lived. Yet, despite how long They lived, They died so easily in the course of mere years.”
“In Their memory.”
“In Their memory, all things. I remember… the time that they lifted your people to the stars. I think your people might have been the seventh, lifted shortly after They took me in? I struggle to remember, as there were so many, but I seem to recall it as such.” She chuckled in memory of the steadfast and honorable race. “Some of your people always remembered what They had done, and that was perhaps the reason they were one of the founding races of the Storyteller’s Oath.”
His gaze had drifted out towards the stars, but now it snapped back towards her. “Truly? That our people were among the founders is not written within the text. In fact, none of the founding races are kept within- only your and Their names. Why?”
“I don’t truly know, but I could guess. They had a vision for creating something that persevered, and it most likely aided that purpose. A group viewed as better than the others because they were there at the start does not promote unity, but remembering Their and my names? That more than likely increases it, a common founding myth among everyone within the Storyteller’s clan.”
The Nracian nodded his head. “Oh. Yes, I see how it could.”
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They had reached the outer portion of the system. “Ayla, where shall we be stopping first? I assume you do not wish to go directly to your destination, for you wish to Witness more than just Their work?”
Ayla nodded. “You would be correct, young one. First, though, might I actually ask for your name? I tire of calling you ‘young one’ or ‘Nracian,’ and I believe a Witness needs to know the names of those they witness.”
He paused for a moment and thought. “Yes, I concur. I am called by friends and acquaintances as ‘Nrantir,’ though my given name is ‘Nrantiramoskagomasa.’ Rather long for polite company, isn’t it.”
Ayla’s gaze snapped towards him, before relaxing, a smile coming to her face. “A good name. A coincidental one. It resembles that of one of your ancestor’s. It brings back good memories. Thank you.” She paused for a long second, a smile coming to and fro upon her face. “Anyways, Nrantir, I propose we first go to the great planet of Varis- assuming it still stands as it did so many years ago, even if it has changed hands many times.”
Nrantir nodded his head. “You would assume correctly, Varis the Great City stands to this day, currently in the hands of the Kamyer Empire. It’s actually their current administrative capital. I dwelled there for a short time with my people. There are plenty to hear stories upon that planet, for those born there rarely move beyond to the stars.”
“Yes. We shall witness those who will never depart to the stars, and visit something I must chronicle. My last task requires it. Is there a Storyteller enclave there now?”
He bobbed his head in assent once more. “There should be. What will you Witness when you are there?”
She pursed her lips, but then looked to him. “You may come with me.”
“That would suffice. Thank you. Can you bring us there? I could do it with the drive, but I feel your methods would be a little faster by a few months.” He turned off the in-system thrusters, and disengaged the control-chair.
She chuckled. “Yes, just a little.” She stood from where she sat and moved to just before the glass viewing panel at the front of the bridge. “Keep your eyes open, for you will not want to miss even a bit of this. I have not done it since Their fall, for I have not left Their home since..”
Suddenly, cracks appeared. Then, just as suddenly as they appeared, an ethereal shattering, as if glass, rang out into their minds- it was not an ordinary sound of the physical means. Then, the universe outside went white. Black orbs appeared in that white space that seemed to have replaced everything, and one of them, the largest among many in that direction, became larger and larger, before taking up the entire view, color different from vibrant black and white coming into being.
Nrantir gasped, out of breath. “I… never expected something… like that. Was that the realm of Consciousness? We have a story of it, but it was not described in that way. That… that was an incredible experience, if a little jarring… and scary, too.”
She looked at him. “Yes. The people of today have lost the art of traveling by it, resorting to more physical means, but it was simply the way of traveling back then. In fact, it was one of the reasons They uplifted species, though perhaps only a fringe one. It allowed freedom, for you cannot travel like that to a world with no minds. Of course, there are far more minds now than there ever were in Their time, and with what is happening now… that realm is becoming a little brighter, to herald the future.”
He tilted his head. “Truly? That would make sense, then. Did no one else know the art, by the way? How would such a great method be lost?”
She grimaced. “Fear. And greed. ‘If I can’t have it, no one can.’ being a dominant cause, of course.”
He joined her in the grimace. “Yes, I could see that. It could not be taught under duress, could it?”
A bittersweet memory. “No, it could not. Their Arts were peaceful, but people still wanted them… most often for war, something they never wanted, even in Their last moments. Now, let us go to Varis. I have a feeling now is the best time.”
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Nrantir looked to Ayla, uncertain. “Ayla, we are being hailed by their port authorities. They seek to ask why a Storyteller comes when there is already an enclave here.”
She smiled. “Allow me to speak, Nrantir.”
“Sure.”
He handed her a headset fitted to her size, and she put it on. Tapping the microphone a couple times, she spoke, “Hello?”
A male voice came through, one befitting a more typical humanoid, such as a human, elf, or maybe even a ghrea. “Greetings. We wish to ask the purpose of your visit?”
“A chronicler witnessing the stars.” In the background on the port authority’s side, someone gasped. They must know what it means.
The one who had gasped, a female, also seeming more a typical humanoid, started making some noise. “No-no, let me on NOW. Move, move! Yes, hello, what is your name?”
“... you most likely know I will not tell you.”
“Thought so. You’re clear to enter.” Exclamations rang out on the other side, people confused on why whoever that was would just let her enter. Ayla smirked, wondering how someone knowledgeable of ancient stories ended up working somewhere like the Varis port authority.
She wondered if this was the kind of person she thought it would be. “Do you know the old ways?”
“Yes. In Their memory?” The voice spoke in an almost questioning manner.
“In Their memory.” Covering the microphone, Ayla spoke to Nrantir. “Quite a coincidence to meet someone like this, yes?” He nodded his head.
She uncovered the microphone. “Might I ask you to send us somewhere for you and me to meet, young one?”
The voice came through with a muted excitement.. “Y-Yes! I’m Esther! I hope to see you!”
“Well, she seems timid.”
Nrantir gave her a confused look. “Truly? She was so excited when she realized who you were.”
“Well, yes, but then you could hear her when I asked her to meet.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The male voice returned. “Now that you two are done with that, and since Esther convinced me you’re fine to let in, I’ll patch you through to dock A, in berth 27. Have a good visit… or whatever it is you’re doing. It flew over my head a little.”
Nrantir and Ayla put their headsets down and chuckled, Ayla commenting. “An odd welcome, but not unpleasant. Though, Nrantir, I do have a question- when was the last split from the Storyteller guild? I know that a long time ago people would occasionally settle down.”
“Oh, it was many decades. There’s not any way for her to be from that, unless it is a very old one, and by then access would have been lost from the archives for… centuries.”
Ayla was puzzled from that response. “Then, what would have caused her to learn of the Ancients?”
Their eyes both brightened at once. “Did she meet an ancient? Perhaps one helped in raising her- most like to teach their ways.”
Ayla nodded. “Yes, that does make sense.”
They looked out the window, and watched as the ship lowered slowly into the area that was marked for their landing. They both stepped towards the door, walking through the hallways of the ship once more to the exit, reaching the ramp and opening it to exit the ship. Here it was, Varis. They had truly arrived, now.