Introduction to the Keepers
By Kimberly Price
Copyright © Winter of 2000, Keepers
Company
A young boy no older than eleven slept soundly on a bare
mattress. The cot supporting the matters was sitting on the ground
in the corner of a small, white room. The boy stirred slightly and
pulled the soft blanket that was on him over his head, taking in the warmth.
Suddenly, the boy awoke, his body not recognizing anything around him.
The small boy sat up and gazed around him at the white
room. His body was sore and tired, but he forced himself to sit up
regardless. The boy was not very handsome, but he was not bad looking
either. He was just plain. His hair was brown and messy from
the night’s sleep. His eyes were brown as well, with hardly anything
unusual about them. His build was what most would expect an eleven-year-old
to look like, though maybe a bit smaller.
The boy’s eyes caught sight of the only color in the room.
It was an old purple pot with a small, pink tea rose planted in it.
The boy reached out and grabbed the pot, pulling it up on the mattress with
him. He looked down at the plant as a few weak thoughts floated into
his mind.
He remembered very little. All he could remember
was less than a day ago he had been sleeping inside a strange metal machine
wedged between two structures that were tall enough to touch the sky; or
so the boy thought. The machine was shaped like some version of a monster,
with glass eyes and iron teeth. Inside the machine were three soft
places to sit or to rest. From the inside, he could look outside and
see the two tall structures that rose over him and the machine. The
structures seemed identical in appearance, but on closer inspection, he found
slight differences between them, especially in the small openings that lined
both of them. The boy did not know the name of the strange machine
or of the structures, he just knew that was where he was when they came.
They. He wondered where they were now. He
did not know who they were or where they came from, he just knew they came
and asked him if he wanted to know something other than this. The boy
had said yes, for he knew not where he was or who he was. The boy’s
next memory after that was waking in the bare room.
His only companion when they had come was the small tea
rose in his hands. It was the only thing he knew anything about, though
he was not sure what he knew or how he knew it. The boy reached over
and touched a bloom with his figure tips. Suddenly, he felt a wave
of information hit him. He knew everything about the tiny rose.
Where it originated from, how to care for it, the uses of the plant, even
the exact name of it. The boy jerked his hand away from the plant the
moment he had felt the information enter his mind. Now, his mind was
blank again, and all that he knew was what he had started with. The
young boy looked to his hands as he slowly reached to touch the delicate
rose again. He wanted to know more about the plant. He wanted
to know everything.
The door to the small room slid open silently and a woman
of about eighteen looked in. The boy removed his hand from the rose
and looked to her. It was one of them. He gazed at her curiously,
but dared not speak as the woman moved into the room. She only stood
about five feet tall, but seemed to hold a great deal of power within her.
She wore a black T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, but her strange eyes caught
the boy’s attention. They seemed to look upon him all knowingly and
yet, with an understanding that he could not pin point. Her eyes were
hazel green in color, with a star burst of gold around a jet black center.
A ring of dark blue rested on the very edge of the other colors, creating
for the penetrating aspect of her eyes.
The woman stopped a few feet from him and gazed down at
him. The two studied each other in silence some moment before the woman
finally spoke, “How do you feel?”
The boy paused for a moment, understanding the words,
and yet not knowing why he understood them. He then found himself answering
her, “Tired and sore.”
She nodded slowly, “I expected that. You will rest
in due time, but first I must see what you understand.” She paused
for a moment as she sat on the mattress near him. “What do you understand?”
The boy shook his head, “Nothing.”
“Come now . . . You must have learned something by now?”
The woman spoke softly, as she motioned to the tea rose that sat in the boy’s
lap.
He picked up the plant and held it out to the woman, “I
understand this.”
“Good, good . . . ,” she smiled softly at him. “But,
do you know who or where you are?”
The boy thought as hard as he could for a moment, but
he knew neither. “. . . No,” he answered her slowly.
“I see. Then, I believe we are going to have to
find you both. Let me start somewhere simple.”
The boy nodded, not speaking.
The woman continued, “I am the Raptor. You may call
me Raptor or Rap, whichever suits you better. I am just like you are,
though you do not know it yet. We are of the same race. Do you
understand thus far?”
The boy nodded again.
The Raptor smiled softly as she went, “We are called Keepers.
We have great powers.”
“How many are there of us?” The boy jumped in before she could go on.
“Almost a hundred, though not all of us live here.”
“Where is here?”
“Here is far away from where we found you, but
do not be afraid, for you are safe here. You will soon learn everything
there is to know about ‘here’.”
The boy paused for a moment, letting this sink in.
He wondered about the others that she spoke of and of the name Keepers.
He looked to the Raptor, “Who am I?”
She sighed softly, “I do not know. You will discover
that for yourself in due time. You are also going to learn about the
powers that you hold. I am to be your trainer and guide in this.
You must listen to my words well and do just as I say.”
“What are my powers?”
“You cuddle that plant as though it were the answer to
all the questions in the world. As though you knew how it felt.
Am I correct?”
The young boy looked down at the rose in his hands.
He touched it again, but the thoughts of information did not flood into his
mind as it did before. He knew the information now and did not need
the plant to know it. Yet, he still clung to it like it would offer
him more knowledge or protection. He felt as though he needed the plant;
as though it needed him.
He looked back to her, “I don’t understand.”
“Think, my boy, think. You know more about that
plant than anything else right now”
The boy sat there, thinking about her words. She
was right, all that he knew was this plant. He could feel the plant
growing in his hands and he seemed almost to hear what it was thinking.
He looked back to the Raptor, speaking slowly, “. . . Plants?”
“Very good,” the Raptor smiled at him. “Now you
have it.”
“What about you?”
“My powers? I deal with the animals. I know
what they think and how they feel. You will soon become the same with
plants.”
The boy set the plant down on the ground near him and
then stood up slowly, though it pained him greatly. He felt as though
every cell in his body had been removed and then put back in a different
place. He looked down at the Raptor’s feet, “What if . . . What if
I don’t want this? What if I don’t want to be a Keeper?”
The Raptor sighed, “I was afraid of this . . . If you
truly do not wish to be one of us, then we will take you back to where we
found you. Your memory will be erased of this experience and you will
only know what you knew before we found you, which, let me remind you, is
nothing.”
The boy paused a moment as her voice dropped slightly
in pitch and became a bit cold. She was again right. All that
he knew was that the rose was his companion, and now, he knew everything
about his companion. He liked the knowledge that he had found, though
he was unsure of what it all meant.
“Will I learn more about plants?”
The Raptor stood, smiling softly, “You will know all that
you wish to learn and more.”
“Maybe . . . Maybe I will stay,” the boy nodded, speaking
softly.
“That is only the good thing. There are bad things
about being a Keeper as well.”
“Like what, Raptor?”
“Like dangerous missions. Pain and suffering, even
death.”
The boy thought a moment at this. He knew not of
these things, though the words did spark a fear in him. He looked back
to her, “Why do it then?”
“Because it is worth it. Because I enjoy what I
do. The power is incredible and the rewards are great. Know this.
Nothing is without some form of sacrifice. If you choose to go back
to where we found you, I guarantee that you will know pain, suffering, and
death very quickly. Here, you at least will be ready for them.
There, I don’t know what will happen.”
The young boy shuddered. He wondered if she told
him the truth, if such things would really happen. He thought back
to the strange machine that he was in and the structures around it.
He remembered other things before he was found. He remembered darkness
and strange noises that scared him. He remembered furry creatures that
awoke him in the darkness, though he could not see them, he sensed that they
could see him. He remembered voices that shouted all around him and
then a loud noise that had sent him to tears in the darkness. He did
not know why he had cried then, nor why he cried now.
The Raptor moved over to him, but did not touch him.
“Hush, child, what is the matter?”
The boy slowly sank to the bed, covering his eyes with
his hands. The Raptor gave a soft sigh, picked up the blanket that
was laying crumpled at the foot of the bed and wrapped it around him.
The boy gained his courage again, and forced himself to
speak, “What if . . . What if I have no powers?”
The Raptor gave a short laugh, “That soreness you feel
is your new power. You have been given all that you need.”
The boy slowly stopped crying and looked to her, brushing
a tear away. He pondered over these powers that he had been give and
wondered if he would be forced to stay if he should wish to leave.
The Raptor spoke again, seeming to guess what he was thinking,
“Yes, I was sent to convince you to stay, I won’t lie to you. But,
if you truly wish to go, then we will undo what we did. You have nothing
to fear from us, least of all myself. You’re a smart boy, but you don’t
know it yet. I hate to see such talent go to waste.”
“To waste?” The boy blinked, not understanding.
“If we send you back, the chances of your mind being put
to any good use at all are near zero. Your chances of death are near
one hundred percent.”
The boy nodded slowly, not catching everything that the
Raptor was saying, but he figured it would become clearer as time passed.
“I will leave you so that you can think about this.
It is a big choice,” the Raptor said as she started to turn for the door.
“Wait . . . ,” the boy called after her.
The Raptor turned back to him, “Yes?”
“Don’t leave. I don’t like being alone.”
The Raptor stepped over to him and then sat on the bed
near him. “Then I won’t.”
The boy looked from her for a moment in thought and his
eyes caught sight of the rose sitting on the floor. He reached down
and picked the potted plant up, setting it in him lap. Then, he looked
back to the Raptor, “Who am I?”
“I don’t know. It seems you lost your memory before
we found you.”
“Then how did you find me.”
The Raptor smirked, “Fate has a strange way of dealing
us the things we need. We found you by accident and decided to take
you with us.”
“You need me?”
“Yes. We are missing a Keeper of plants, and you
are it.”
The boy started a bit as those words came together in
his mind. He did not realize that such had already happened, that it
was ever going to happen.
The Raptor went on before he could ask a question, “The
Keepers were created to help keep balance in the universe. It is our
job to protect the objects known as the Quester Stones with our lives.
For this reason, the Keepers all specialize in every field of study imaginable.
This way, we each know a little bit, but together, we know everything.
Without the Keeper of plants, we have a hole in our knowledge.”
The young boy reflected on this a moment. They protected
the universe. He was not sure just what a universe was, but it sounded
worth seeing. He then looked back to her, having looked away for a
moment, “What is a Quester Stone?”
The Raptor stood up from the bed and stepped away from
the boy, her back to him. The boy watched as she picked up a
thin golden chain from around her neck and then pulled something out that
was hidden under her shirt. The Raptor turned back to him with a large,
tarnished gold key held out to him between her figures.
“This is a Quester Stone.”
The boy knew that this object was not a stone. He
was sure of it.
The Raptor went on, seeing the puzzlement in the boy’s
face at the sight of the key. “I know this isn’t a stone. Quester
Stones can take many forms other than a rock. That is just the name
we have given them.”
The boy gave a nod, that made sense. “What do they do?”
“It is a complicated subject, but I will see if I can
sum it up.” The Raptor paused a moment glancing down to the key that hung
on her neck and then back up to the young boy. “There are laws that
control this universe and it is the Quester Stones that control these laws.
Sometimes, there are laws that conflict with each other. This is where
the problem comes in and why we were created. Quester Stones that cover
different laws are hostile toward each other. We are here to make sure
that nothing goes wrong in these battles.”
The young boy blinked once, trying to come to terms with
all the information she had given him. The Raptor was right. This was
a complicated subject. He did not comprehend most of what she had said,
but he accepted her words as the truth.
“Will I get a Quester Stone also?” He asked at last.
“No . . . Only Questers have Quester Stones. Some
Keepers are also Questers, but not all.”
The boy paused, again in though, “Are you a Quester?”
“Yes.”
The boy looked across the room to the door, his thoughts
toying with him. He was afraid about what had happened to him and about
what would happen to him. He was scared to go back to that strange
metal machine, but he was equally scared to find out what was behind that
door. Yet, simultaneously, the idea of being a Keeper thrilled him.
He wanted to find out what the Raptor was talking about. He wanted
to see this universe and to learn everything. The boy day dreamed a
moment, forgetting where he was. His hand went to rest in his lap,
but it rested upon the thorns of the small rose bush that still sat in his
lap.
“Ouch!” He quickly jerked his finger away from the sharp
sting and looked at it. A small dot of blood came from the prick and
swelled thickly on the surface of his skin.
The boy blinked at the red liquid, puzzled, but not frightened.
“Pricked yourself, did we?” The Raptor spoke as
she stepped over to him. She pulled out a white cloth and wiped the
blood from his finger. Another drop did not form after she had removed
the first.
“That . . . That felt strange,” the young boy said, looking
to the Raptor.
She nodded slowly, “Every rose has a thorn, or so I am
told. That was your first taste of pain, it seems.”
“Will I feel it again? I do not like it.”
“There is a chance, yes.”
The boy looked down at the rose bush. So, that was
pain. He remembered her words well of there being a bad side to the
Keepers. He looked to his finger again. It was no longer tingling
like it once was. The pain was gone. He wondered if all pain
faded like that. The boy thought that maybe in time, it did, just as
his small wound did.
Nevertheless, the rose had reminded him of the only reasons
he wished to say here. To learn who he was, but mostly, he wanted to
learn about the plants, though he knew not exactly why.
The boy looked back to the Raptor, “You are called Raptor,
but I do not know what I am called. Can I have that?”
“A name? Yes, of course you can,” the Raptor smiled
at him softly. “Choice any name you wish.”
He shook his head, not understanding.
“Let me see . . . ,” the Raptor said, becoming thoughtful
for a moment. “I am named after a class of animal. Great birds
of prey, specifically. Maybe we should name you after a plant, since
that is your field.”
The boy nodded, “Like what?”
“I don’t know many plants.”
“Could you just say a few, maybe?”
The Raptor nodded again, looking at him as she started
to list off the names of plants she knew, “Bluebonnet, honey suckle, pecan,
oak, carrot . . . Oh, I’m afraid this may take too long.”
“Go on, please?”
The Raptor sighed softly and continued, “Sycamore, pumpkin,
rose, English ivy, snapdragon, Venus’s flytrap, pitcher plant . . .”
“Wait,” the boy suddenly interrupted her.
“Yes?”
“Go back to that last one.”
“Pitcher plant?”
“The one before that.”
“Venus’s flytrap?”
“Yes, yes. That’s it. Can that be my name?”
The name for some reason intrigued him. He imagined it was a plant
that was more alive than the rose in his hands, yet at the same time, it
was just the same. He wished for that kind of quickness in himself,
instead of hesitating in his actions as he had been doing all day.
The Raptor paused a moment in thought about this, “Maybe
we should just shorten it to Venus?”
The young man smiled softly, “Yes. I like that much
better.”
“Then Venus it is. Venus it is . . .”