Paintings, books, poems, statues all across the history gather behind the walls of an endless tower.

  It exists to store and protect the things stored and the outside world.

  "hmm~ hm~ hm~ hmmm~" soft and kind humming of a man who's face bore the mask of a bird.

  He was watering every flower, tree and plants that were at his neverending garden.

  It holds every plant that has gone and even those who have yet to grow.

  Forests, deserts, mountains and oceans laid bare in his garden that stretched for eternity.

  in it animals both extinct and living resided, and creatures of legends also appear.

  From an insect that brought destruction to the lives of many to corpse of a dragon long thought destroyed.

  The caretaker collected many paintings, from those that show beauty of nature to those that do not show their face.

  For their paint is made by the souls and memories long lost.

  One can only hear the paintings wail the words it told by it's souls.

  Some were screaming, others singing and some spoke to the crowd.

  As the caretaker continued to hum a tune to himself while going upwards and upwards to the very limit only he knew.

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  And before him stood a door not connected to any walls or ceiling, one could easily go around it and nothing would change.

  Yet opening it a different sight was seen.

  Crystal as red as morning poppy and inside it was a disfigured man, skin as white as bones covered with necrotic tissue.

  Hair reaching all the way to their back and it's color shared the tone of it's skin.

  "YOU WATCH IT LIKE A CHILD WATCHING A FLAME"Can one not look at an old friend." The caretaker answered

  "YOU LIED TO YOUR LORD TO RECEIVE A PAGE WITH LIESThe caretaker turned towards the voice "Yet you seek it as well and failed where I succeeded, oh great Father~"

  Caretaker mocked the voice that spoke, it was a heart yet beating with half the ribcage and one left wing protecting it, their size rivaled the very mountains on which the world sits. "And you too will speak your truth once help you."

  The voice stayed silent, it had nothing to say.

  And so he moved to crystal moving his bare arm across the face of it.

  A stone cold crystal, felt soft and as warm like the touch of the loved one.

  Living or dead, betrayed or loyal, the caretaker will always be obsessed with the one in the crystal.

  For he was and still is the very first scholar of the Empire and he will always serve the Emperor no matter what.