Gaia's Library

The world was meant to be this way, scars healing over now that the infection had been cured. As it was once said:  'Time heals all wounds'and 'That which we have received, we must return.' Gaia, who had the land taken from her and sealed under concrete and stones, was slowly reclaiming this place and returning it to their true state. 

The crumbling stones leered down into the large room, disappointed in the state of it's contents. Bookshelves, once polished and proud, were being overrun by nature's tangled limbs that clung lovingly to the old wood. The bark of growing trees wound affectionately through the shelves, growing limbs careful of the holes they protruded through as to not disturb the resting paperbacks or untouched hard covers. 

The playful winds shuffled in through the open windows, accompanied by the sweet aroma of fresh rainfall and damp soil. Swirling and arching through the isles, the collections of books un-phased by their morning dance. Emerald leafs swayed to the unheard music of the morning, letting dewdrops fall like tears into the puddles on the concrete floor. 

The mid-morning sun shone through the open arches in the walls, glittering off the reflective surfaces and speckling the large room with soft light. And as a nod in return, the bronze tables and chairs glittered back with a soft hue. Bordered bronze protected worn crimson leather, though the back of the chair was pealing and molding ever so slightly from the constant exposure. The table fared slightly better, though nature's limbs crept up the leg to get to the top, as if trying to reach the decorative lamp that waited for the soft night to come again. 

I let out a small sigh of content, admiring form afar the beauty of this lost treasure. This was where I prefer to spend my time, nurturing the budding growth and protecting the lost wealth of knowledge that was held here. I ghost along the endless shelves, preserving the poor leather bound journals and discarded tomes from Time's unforgiving hand. 

It was Fate that I found this place all those years ago. It was Fate that She would shelter me here and put this place into my care. And like any gift from Gaia, I promised that I would take care and protect this sacred space. 

I maintain the last relics of an old age, updating it with stories travelers would leave as repayment for their short rest from the outside world. But, as so many of the disease has evolved to, there are some who wish to steal the priceless artifacts of time for selfish reasons. Then it is not my job to be the kindly caretaker, but the means upon which Gaia's wrath will be extended onto the human scum that dare to take more than they are offered. 

I thank Gaia every day for the sanctuary she has gifted upon me, a human who deserved none of Her kindness. And as my thanks, I remain here. Even after my body has become one with the soil to feed the growing plants, even after my last agonizing breath has left rasping lungs. 

I walk among the books, tracing my fingers across the spines and smiling. I leave no trace of the path I walk, I leave no blemish on the sleeping tomes that await for hands to hold them open and devour with their eyes the history that they hold close. But this is both my blessing, and my punishment.

A punishment that I will gladly serve after all my kind had done to scar Her, to wound Her, to take from without equal exchange.  And in the name of Gaia, Mother of Nature, I will remain until this place has fully been reclaimed. It will take time, as all things do, but I am but a spirit that haunts the Library of Gaia. 

Time means nothing to me.