The Tears Of The Stars Pt 01

Thanks to everyone for reading my story. This is a new genre / category for me altogether. I'm hoping to make this a lengthy series. Please note that this is a slow story, not a quick stroke story. As always, thanks to Winter Lotus without whom I'd be lost. Please comment and vote. I don't care if it's good or bad, I just love feedback.

******

Jackson Travers bent back a thin, white birch branch growing across his footpath. No one ever came out this way. Jackson knew the area well though. He jumped down into a limestone ravine following it along until he found a natural staircase where the rock jutted out in sharp, grey-green points and climbed up to the other side. Hunters never came out this far, nor hikers. It was his own place when he wanted to get away from people.

It had been a wet winter and the underbrush grew back thick and green. Today was the tenth consecutive day in the high nineties. The sweat beaded along his brow and stained the armpits of his t-shirt. His friend, Mike, told him that the heat wave was part of global warming, but his mother said that was all hooey. His mom said it was all God's plan. But that was her answer to everything. Jackson thought it was just hot and that one day it wouldn't be anymore. Winter would come. It always came in the mountains.

He let out a whistle peering into the trees. It only took a minute for the mutt to come bounding out of a thicket of brush, tail raised, and tongue hanging lazily from his maw. His sister named him Fudge due to his light mocha color. Jackson didn't make a fuss about it. He'd pulled him from a dumpster when he was just a pup and now the dog followed him everywhere. He was part chocolate lab and part pit bull as best as he could gather, and about as fierce as a kitten.

Fudge watched a squirrel scurry over a rotten log. He laid his head low and lifted his hind quarters high in the air wagging his tail excitedly. Then he let out a low growl and leapt forward in a clumsy, playful manner trying to give chase. Jackson laughed and waited.

It felt good to laugh. He wiped the sweat from his brow and slicked back his thick blonde hair. He thought about his sister, Stacy, again. She'd been so upset when she ran into his room this morning with tears streaking her innocent cheeks. She crawled up into his bed and nuzzled her head against his chest and held him so tight. He tucked her blonde curls behind her ear and held her there. Jackson cared for her deeply. No doubt his mother had laid some guilt of the Lord on her again. One day they'd both get out of this little town and away from her guilt.

The leaves rustled in the distance. An eight point buck lumbered cautiously and then startled and darted off in swift movements. Jackson snapped back to attention and continued on adjusting the weight of his climbing pack. He'd waited an entire week to get back out to this spot—to investigate his discovery. It took another hour before he made it to the limestone rise. It had been covered with dirt and moss when he stumbled upon it last week. He had quite literally stumbled and tripped scraping his knee. When he had looked back to see what caused his fall and brushed away the leaves and dirt, he saw the circular stone edge peeking out from underneath the muck.

The stone looked oddly too circular, Jackson had noted. So he kept clearing away the debris, which was as much as a foot thick on one side, until he sat back covered in filth staring at something that he was certain was manmade. It was a stone as flat as could be, perfectly round, with edges that looked to be cut with precision. The disc was five feet in diameter and easily a foot thick. It looked too well made to be of any age, he thought. There weren't any signs of tooling on its surface, but then he couldn't figure out why someone would make such a thing just to dump it out here. Not unless they hid something underneath. He had laughed off the notion initially, but all week he dreamt of this stone and eventually decided to make an adventure out of it. At the very least it got him out the house, and he liked it out here.

He set out all his tools. Then he dug into his bag and removed his camera and took a picture from a few angles. Best to document things, he thought. Fudge came running out of the woods and skidded to a stop next to him. Jackson set the camera down and picked up a crowbar. He tried to slide the edge under the lip of the disc. He just hadn't accounted for the weight of the thing. There was no way he could lift it on his own. If there was something hidden underneath it then he'd have to move the disc in pieces, he thought.

"If I can break it..." He said aloud, thinking. Then he looked at the thickness. It was a huge chunk of rock. "It might be too big to break."

He walked back to his pack and pulled out the sledge hammer. Standing in front of the disc, he pulled the sledge up over his head and with all the strength he could muster he brought the peen down dead center. The crack rang out through the forest. He brought it back up again. Crack! And again. Crack! He spent a half hour pounding at it while the sweat soaked his shirt. He took another determined swing.

Jackson stopped for a moment as he watched a hairline fracture grow through the surface of the stone. He took the sledge and cracked it into the stone one more time. The small fracture widened until the disc split into three jagged pieces and sunk inward at the center.

"It's hollow underneath." He whispered. Fudge whined and tucked his tail between his legs. "What's wrong, Fudge?" The dog just backed away and kept his distance.

A smell of stale air rose up between the pieces of broken rock. Jackson tied a rope around the largest piece and threw the other end over a branch using the leverage to pull it back a few feet. The other two pieces teetered over the hole. Jackson grabbed his flashlight and shone it down into the darkness.

"What the..." The hairs on his arms stood up.

In the darkness, a set of stone steps descended into the black below. They were narrow and steep and barely wide enough to walk on comfortably. He couldn't judge the size of the cavern. Jackson leaned back and set about securing the last two pieces of rock before they slipped into the opening. His heart was racing faster now. He hadn't really considered what he might find.

Jackson tied his rope to a tree and dropped the other end down into the cavern. If the stairs are broken, he thought, I might need a way back up. He wrapped the elastic band of his headlamp around his head and checked that it worked. Then he tucked another flashlight in the pocket of his cargo shorts and tightened the laces on his hiking boots. He walked to the opening of the cave and knew immediately that this might be a terrible idea.

"Please don't let me die today." He whispered.

Jackson took a few deep breaths and stepped down onto the stairs. The cavern was narrow and the steps were carved into the walls wrapping around into the darkness. He took his time edging himself down, careful not to slip. He glanced over the edge letting his headlamp illuminate the cavern. The bottom was another forty feet below.

Once he touched the ground, he breathed a sigh of relief. An underground stream emerged from one end of the cavern floor, cutting through the rock, and disappearing under the wall at the other end. The cavern itself wasn't very large at all. It was an oval shaped chute that went down roughly seventy feet. It stretched about forty feet in length and twenty feet across. The walls were craggy and cold. Jackson turned around and stared curiously at a set of ornately carved stairs in the wall leading to a doorway hewn out of the rock. Not limestone anymore, Jackson thought, this part of the cave was bedrock, granite maybe. The stonework was impressive with intricate glyphs adorning each stair.

He stepped closer feeling uneasy. His heart beat fast in his chest as he ascended slowly studying each glyph. When he reached the doorway his legs felt weak. Turn back, he thought. Just go home. The glyph above the door glimmered when it caught the light of his lamp. He tried to commit it to memory. On either side of it was a rudimentary eye.

Jackson gathered his courage and stepped into the doorway. "My god!" He shuddered breathlessly.

The room was cut out of solid rock. The walls covered in writings he couldn't understand. A language he had never seen. In front of him, a long stone table stood in the center of the room with five metallic books resting on top of it. Jackson walked closer, blood pumping. His fingers reached out and touched one of the books. It shone green under the light. The cover was latched and locked.

Jackson glanced over at two stone basins along the far wall. They were the only other items to be found. He walked around to the larger basin and peered inside. He let out a scream and fell back onto his ass crawling away on his hands until he bumped into the stone table behind him. His breathing was heavy. It took him a few minutes to gather his courage and look again. Inside was a skeleton of unusual size. The bones were larger than they should have been, the skull slightly misshapen. Jackson guessed he must have been almost eight feet tall. A medallion glinted in his bony fingers. Jackson felt an urge to have it. He needed it. A hunger burned inside him.

He reached into the stone crypt and carefully pried it from his bony grasp. The metal grew hot in his hands until it glowed a wondrous, luminescent green. A surge went through his fingers and up his arms. He couldn't drop it if he tried.

******

The council sat in the high chamber, nine members in all, ruling from their gilded thrones adorned with precious metals. Each of them had long, pristine white hair and translucent grey eyes, their skin shone so bright that it seemed they had a halo of light about them. They wore silken white robes cinched together with thin bands of gold. Slave girls tended to them obediently washing their feet and bringing them platters of fruits. The girls were naked except for their gilded collars distinguishing them as property of the Gods.

"Brother." The high lord spoke looking down at Enoch. "What brings you to the high chamber?"

"I have translated the last of the Books of the Ancient Knowledge."

"So you will bestow on us more power? May we rule ever longer!" The rest of the council clinked their rings against the golden arms of their thrones as they murmured their excitment.

"No, brother." Enoch responded. "We are mistaken! The Ancient Knowledge has been misused. The fifth book speaks of something far different than we imagined. The purpose was misunderstood."

"Look around you! You call this misuse? We rule such a kingdom!"

"We are worshipped as Gods. This planet was never ours to rule. And the Ancient Knowledge was never meant to enslave a people. It is meant for its true disciple. I know this now."

"The Ancients are long dead, brother! What disciple would be true? There is no one truly worthy. No bloodlines left."

"But you are wrong! The Ancient Knowledge does have a true disciple. The Knowledge is meant for one and one alone."

"You would have this knowledge for one man? We have built cities and empires. We have taken concubines. We have conquered enemies across worlds. For millennia."

"And for millennia, we have never been able to understand the true reason the Books were forged. It is not ours to judge the purpose of the Ancients. If they meant this to conquer worlds or to conquer nothing, if they meant it to destroy enemies or heal their wounds, it is not ours to determine."

"So what would you have us do? Give it away? Bury it in a dark hole to wait for some chosen one that may never come?"

Enoch thought that was exactly what they should do. "Without the books and the key, the Ancient Knowledge will no longer serve us. I fear if we give up the Books then we will lose that which has made us great. I am troubled. That is all."

"Now you come to your senses, brother!" The high lord rang out. "Take a whore and some drink and forget these troubles. I fear you spend too much time reading books and too little time with other pleasures."

"Yes, that might be true. I'm sorry to have troubled the council."

"Rest easy, brother. We are Gods, remember. And you are The Lord Librarian, The Keeper of the Ancient Knowledge. All our people have, we owe to you. We'll speak again when you have rested yourself."

The council clinked their rings again giving affirmation of their gratitude. It was Enoch that had deciphered the original books and first harnessed the power of the Ancients. He stood rising to his full eight feet and gave a gracious bow. He dwarfed the slave girls that stood at the side of the chamber. The high lord stared at him as he turned and walked through the silver doors that rose twenty feet tall.

Enoch knew he would not sway the council. The power of the fifth book had brought him visions. He couldn't allow the council to know its truth. Even he could not know its whole truth. Out on the high gallery, well above the kingdom where the high council sat, Enoch looked at the marvel below, the great city forged in blood, and the people held in bondage. It would all be lost to history and relegated to myth. That he'd seen as well. It was a sacrifice he would make to honor the intentions of the Ancients.

He had to move quickly, that much was certain. His silk robes fluttered behind him as he descended the rose marble steps from the high gallery to the pavilion that stretched across the city to the only remaining star ship. Enoch had already packed the books in the small cargo hold. If he removed the keys, the powers of the high council would be gone. Not so, for the true disciple, he thought. His power would permanent. Oh, how he wished he could live to see it.

******

Four hundred suns had risen and set since he made his escape; Enoch had not been concerned about his brothers finding him. They assumed he traveled to the stars, but he was on the other side of this world in a dense forest he had seen in a vision. He found a small cave and cut the stone with the Ancient ways and built a vault where the books would wait. He pitied his brothers when he thought of them and their crumbling kingdom.

It was a warm evening when he sent the star ship into the sky to be lost in the stars. The sun bathed his face one last time before he used the Ancient ways to move the great stone cap in place and sealed himself beneath. The days had been long and lonely while he prepared the sacred place for the disciple, like his vision foretold.

He touched each book making sure it was placed just right. Then he removed the key from each book and fit them together to create his medallion, the key that opened their secrets. He laid down in his crypt holding on to the treasure.

"Listen! This is the key to the Books of the Ancient Knowledge. You don't need to read the books. Others have to translate them to understand their truth, but they will teach you in their own way. You are the True Disciple. Listen carefully; the fifth book requires the Submersion. It is prepared beside me exactly as they instructed. They call it the Lifeblood. It is for the first chosen Disciple to receive their gift. I believe I was chosen to pave this path for you. I spent a lifetime deciphering these books to guide you. You must take the book into the Lifeblood. The fifth book is the key to the Ancients, a civilization that survived a billion years. The Lifeblood will bind you, cleanse you, make you strong. The Ancients chose your species. The books have chosen you. I know no more. I only hope that more is revealed to you, the True Disciple. You must wake. Jackson! Jackson, wake!"

Enoch lifted his left hand and with a deft movement slit his own throat. The small blade fell from his grip and he clutched the medallion as he bled out.

******

The surge of energy shocked Jackson back to reality. His hands were trembling as they clutched the medallion, in much the same way the man had clutched it as he bled. His breaths came short and fast. He wanted to think he was delusional. That would be the easiest way to explain it. But he was holding this strange metal object that glowed brightly in his fingers, and there was a skeleton of inexplicable size in front of him. These were facts. He could see them and feel them. The images were real too. It felt as if he were there. It felt as if he were right there breathing the air watching the people. And this man, or whatever being he was, buried himself here willingly.

Jackson stood up and walked around toward the stone table. The medallion glowed brighter as he neared. This is the key. Jackson carefully pulled on the metal and the pieces slid apart. He set the proper piece in front of each book. And then he stood there with his arms braced against the edge of the table staring at everything.

"This is ridiculous." He whispered mockingly at himself. "This doesn't make sense. It couldn't be real." He took a breath. "Okay, Jackson... Best case scenario, a billion years' worth of knowledge and some kind of secret of the universe. Worst case, I turn into the undead. No, no. Worst case, this is some kind of hidden camera show and I get made fun of forever."

He lifted the first piece and placed it into the metal latch on the first book. It clicked into place. Don't read it, he thought. Jackson pulled the latch aside and opened the cover. The pages were thin sheets of metal. The markings inside were a combination of glyph and written language. It didn't make any sense to him. He reached out and placed his hand on the pages. They began to glow that green luminescent color, and Jackson's body stiffened. His eyelids fluttered rapidly, involuntarily. He could feel the mind numbing pressure in his head. It built and built until it felt unbearable. His jaw clenched so tight that he thought his teeth might shatter. Time ticked by slowly. Then it just stopped.

Jackson felt his face and his head, all in one piece. The pressure subsided immediately, and he felt fine. He tried thinking of something, of anything, but he didn't sense anything new. He didn't feel particularly smarter or know any great secrets. He took the second piece and placed it on the next book. The process repeated in a similar fashion, but he still didn't notice any changes. He was beginning to feel silly. He simply repeated it for the third and fourth book. Then he stared at the fifth book. This was supposed to be the important one, he thought. He hefted it off the table and carried it over to the basin. The second basin was filled with liquid.

He tilted his head over to the crumbling skeleton. "How long has this stuff been in here, anyway? I mean I really hope you know what you're doing because this looks disgusting." He reached his finger down to touch the surface. The liquid reached up from the surface to meet his finger. He pulled his hand back. "What the hell?" He waved his palm over the surface and watched the liquid respond beneath as if it sensed his movements and mirrored them. "I'm the Disciple. I'm the Disciple. I'm not afraid. I'm NOT afraid. Oh hell..."

Jackson peeled off his shirt. He set his headlamp on the edge of the basin next to him so the light pointed in his direction. He looked around and then he decided to drop his shorts and unlaced his boots until he stood there naked, feeling foolish. Without thinking about it anymore he hopped into the viscous liquid. It tingled on his skin. He pulled the book forward and placed the last piece, snapping it in place, and then leaning back. With his hands on the pages, the book began to glow and the liquid lit up a brilliant green. It illuminated the whole room and the mysterious writing danced on the walls as the liquid sloshed.