The Dark Crystal: VotSatE: Stars

The Dark Crystal: Visions of the Start and the End

Stars

It had been a little over a week since skekHak’s funeral. Nobody had spoken much about the Machinist after the event. skekTah’s alliance hunkered in close to him on occasion, concerned for him. The Note-Taker always carefully rebuffed their concern, reassuring them. “I’m fine,” he would say.

But he was not fine. He was far from fine.

The funeral had given him a brief sense of peace. Keyword being ‘brief’. Soon after, the dark thoughts and crushing misery returned. He was…

What was the Gelfling term again?

Ah, yes. Heartbroken.

He spent many of his evenings outside. He’d slip away after dinner to stare up at the many stars that managed to peek through the clouds that tended to gather over the castle. They distracted him from his worries.

Last night, he’d found a new activity to do involving the stars. If he pretended to draw lines between the stars, like ink blots on scrolls, he could make pictures in the night sky. Granted, they were blocky and hardly realistic…but it was interesting to see what images his mind crafted from the lines and stars he connected.

It was distracting enough. It took his mind away from the misery roiling in his chest, in his head. It gave him a smidge of comfort, doing something creative.

Perhaps he should paint again. It was messy but skekSa always said he looked so relaxed when spreading paint around. Yes, maybe the Note-Taker would paint. Perhaps tomorrow?

Tonight was a little clearer, though the clouds looked far darker than usual. skekTah paid little mind to it. He was mentally drawing lines, creating images. A Gelfling here, a fish over there, a large tree here, and…

The pointed shape of a beak was the beginning. His brain didn’t initially piece together what he was drawing now, only that there was a beaked face. A single star shone vibrantly, like an eye. Some kind of bird, perhaps?

Songbirds and other tiny avians were crossed out when the body was made. It was too big and hunched for a tiny bird. The wings were too thick also. No, this was a big bird. Perhaps a raptor of some kind?

Tiny points at the ends of the wings differentiated it. No, these were not wings. Those were hands and fingers, attached to arms. Not wings at all. Some type of mountain-dwelling winged beast then, it surely had to be.

The lower body billowed out beneath a line—a belt or sash. Smaller stars twinkled across its chest, like gems. A tail stuck out from the trailing end.

skekTah’s mind inserted the colors just as he began to realize what he had done. Soft earthy tones. The wrinkles and designs were etched into his mind. A familiar face, covered in soot, goggles sparing their eyesight from the worst of their work.

skekHak.

He had drawn the Machinist in the sky.

skekTah shook his head, blinking rapidly. Then he looked up. He could still see skekHak, as if the other had made a place for himself up there. He wasn’t moving but the Machinist stuck out in the sky like a Podling among Skeksis. There was no denying it.

The Note-Taker smiled softly. The rush of misery and pain in his chest began to lessen. Somehow, his discovery of his old friend had lightened the burden on his shoulders.

skekTah would return to this balcony night after night for many, many trine. And skekHak was always there to greet him, shoving aside the darkest of clouds. Even when the sky was devoured by a near-constant storm hundreds of trine later, the Machinist cut his way through.

The Note-Taker felt relief at the sight of the image. It was his savior.