Starlight, Starbright, Page 5

  Chapter 5 – A Little Treasure More

  “Please forgive us, Un'Yhe.”

  I again hear melancholy filling Lisa's voice as her story draws to a close. The strangers' circulating, pulsating lights dim as they float in their cylinders. Light is no longer tossed between them.

  “You bring us so many incredible treasures,” Lisa sighs, “and still, we yearn for the stars. Time and again we tell of the stars, and each time I fail to convey even a sliver of what the stars mean to us.”

  Marcus' voice carries through the chamber's speakers. “After all you have shown us, Un'Yhe, we still pine for the heavens. We have asked for so much, and yet we would ask another favor of you.”

  I am confident my answer speaks for all of the broods. “You only need to name it. You too have given the broods great treasures and stories.”

  Light again shimmers within the cylinders.

  “We do not wish our story to end,” speaks Isaiah’s voice.

  Ah'Wren frowns. “We do not mean to isolate you in the museum's center.”

  Lisa's cylinder glows. “You show much empathy, Ah'Wren. Un'Yhe's archivists continue to impress us. But forgive us, Ah'Wren, for giving you any indication that we feel isolated. Your concern is misplaced.”

  “We wish to continue our story of the stars,” Marcus interjects. “We wish to again look upon them.”

  Lisa's shape swirls in her cylinder. “You cannot enlarge your museum forever, Un'Yhe. The treasures of Frelurn sparkle like none other. Yet we know an entire world filled with wonders would not appease our desire for the stars. Our home world failed to satisfy our want.”

  “We are creatures of the stars, Un'Yhe,” Marcus adds, “and so we must see the stars to live.”

  The color of my scales fades. “I don't know how to help your hunger. I do not know how to gather stars.”

  “We might transport you to our sacred land of shadow,” Ah'Wren offers.

  Light once more bounces between the cylinders.

  “You are very courageous, Ah'Wren,” Isaiah responds. “We believe you would brave the journey to the shadows reserved for your dead. I'm not so sure we're so deserving.”

  “I would happily do it for the strangers,” Ah'Wren's scales glow in deep purple.

  I nod. “The broods would bless such a journey. You would honor our ancestors by making a pilgrimage to their shadows.”

  “Yours is a wonderful kind, “ Lisa answers, “but we would not survive the trip. We cannot leave the systems that support us. We cannot forget that your museum is built around the heart of our ark. And sadly, Un'Yhe, we must tell you we weaken as we speak.”

  My scales are gray. Instantly, I think of the temperature fluctuations discussed with Seh'Ulk.

  Marcus' shape hovers closest to me. His light is kept dark, and I have the impression he is staring through the armor of my scales.

  “You suspect such,” Marcus whispers. “Seh'Ulk's diligence has seen our fever. We have become creatures of the stars, but even the stars do not burn forever.”

  Silence grips the chamber. The strangers float softly in their tanks of fluid nutrients. My scales fade into a shade of colorless, sad gray. Though I have heard the story so often, I do not even know what stars truly are. Where would one display a star in a museum? The strangers spent eons traveling to them? What are the efforts of a museum's archivist in comparison?

  “We ask the impossible of you,” Isaiah breaks the silence after several minutes pass. “But trust me, Un'Yhe, when I tell you we have spent lifetimes thinking of the impossible.”

  I hear Marcus again in the speakers “We need your help in building one more mechanism, Un'Yhe. We believe all those treasures you have brought to us can help us build one last device. We need you to guide us one more time through your planet's wonders.”

  Color returns to my scales. “The halls are always open to you.”

  “We will not be using our mechanisms this time, archivist,” Lisa speaks. “This time, we examine the wonders through our own eyes.”

  I nod. My tail coils as I envision it. The strangers plan to roll their cylinders one more time through the halls, like they did when the museum was young, as they did before time made them more fragile, before so many halls and chambers were added to the museum.

  “Of course,” and my scales shine a bright crimson. “Give me only a couple of days to gather all the archivists and prepare.”

  “Thank you, Un'Yhe,” Lisa whispers her gratitude with deep reverence.

  “We'll gather those stars one more time,” Marcus vows, “and we'll show those stars to the broods. Then, Un'Yhe, you can finally craft a word in your own tongue with which to name the stars.”

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