The telescope transformed my museum, turned it into something more. The halls no longer store only our history's artifacts. Our museum no longer houses only those wonderful strangers at its heart. Now, the museum holds the telescope, whose power has introduced the stars to the broods. The museum now houses as much of the broods' future as it ever housed of our past.
The pace of change leaves me awestruck. Our world will never be the same after we have finally seen those stars the strangers always tried to describe to us. I have faith the change will be for the best.
What must those first brood mothers have felt when they first looked upon the White Sands glittering on the shore? What did those brood mothers first feel when they stepped from the water's comfort to discover what waited upon the land?
I will never know, but I know the choices the broods have made since the telescope extended our sight beyond our purple skies have been made on our own.
The strangers gave us no suggestions. They prodded us in no direction. They showed us the stars, and they allowed the stars to inspire the broods however their twinkling might.
We have built within the shadows of our planet's dark side, in that land that houses the memories and ghosts of our ancestors. We build where the stars were always waiting for us.
The stars speak to Ah'Wren more than any other of the broods. She always gazes the longest through the telescope's lens. Ah'Wren leads the effort on our world’s darker side to construct our own rockets and arks, in which, given a little time, we too hope to extend ourselves to the stars. Ah'Wren masters the mathematics the strangers teach her. She translates the diagrams and blueprints of the strangers' arks. She surrounds herself with the greatest minds of the broods.
In comparison, I think my languages look simple.
But the strangers often remind me of what I gave them. Still, the strangers find splendor in the artifacts and stories I continue to gather for the museum.
Once more, I am lost in my thoughts and fail to notice as Seh'Ulk comes to my stone table.
“Marcus asks for you, Un'Yhe.”
I nod. I wish I could remain at my station rather than face what I must. My scales are a dull gray. Today, there will be little color in the scales of any of the brood who work the museum.
“Is it his time?”
Seh'Ulk nods. His tail drags. He too grew close to the strangers.
We force our heavy feet to hurry through the museum. Our fears regarding the fluctuations of temperatures turned, cruelly, true. None of the halls' treasures glimmer. We pause as we enter the chamber of the White Shore sands and give a blessing to our ancestors in honor of the strangers.
The strangers' inner chamber, which now houses the telescope so famous to Frelurn, has been emptied of any brood. Today, only Seh'Ulk and I will linger in the museum's heart. The high dome is sealed shut, and shadow hides the telescope's girth that fills much of the room.
It feels like such a short time ago when all the cylinders would greet me whenever I passed through the double doors to the strangers' sanctum. Only three cylinders remain to greet me now. Their fluids are dark. I have to squint to discern the forms floating languidly in those fluids. I wonder how many strangers first boarded those arks to travel amongst the stars.
“It is good to see you a last time, Un'Yhe.” Marcus' voice sounds faint.
“It has always been an honor to answer your invitation.”
Faint light pulses from Marcus' cylinder. “I fear I have invited you for one final favor.”
My eyes glow. “I have made that promise to the others before you, Marcus. I will make that same promise to you. I will see that you all return to the stars in the end.”
“Ah'Wren's last rocket was lovely,” Marcus returns. “She's mastered the science we've shown her. She is ready to return me to the stars. Promise to put my ashes upon one of those rockets and send my soul drifting once again between the stars.”