Stories from the Tea Realms - The Museum (Part One)

Once upon a time, or so the Mystics claim, there existed a Museum beyond the mountain range of the West. This Museum held such wonders from all of the Tea Realms and beyond. The owner of the Museum was a simple looking man who wore a dark suit and a purple flower in his buttonhole. Every day, he welcomed the visitors to the Museum, treating them as though he'd known them for years. Just what did the Museum hold, you may ask? The still brightly coloured hair of a long forgotten Goddess; books on every subject, with a wing dedicated to the Leaf; stored dreams freely given; statues that moved on their own, and other wonders. However, those things paled in comparison to the one item that most visitors came for - a copy of the Book of Forbidden Teas within a glass case. This book was created by a Mystic, now rogue and living in unknown parts, whose only crime was having an over-curious nature.

Every day, the owner, whose name was Paul, received many offers regarding the Book - from wanting to touch the book and possibly read one of the pages, to wanting to set it on fire so that one less copy "lived" in the Tea Realms. People, for the most part, were afraid of the Book and its contents, streaked with a curiosity that couldn't be denied. Was it true that one of the Teas in the book caused a person to speak with the Dead? Or another that allowed one to experience the purest form of insanity? Paul greeted each request to destroy the Book with a small smile while replying, "This Museum is a collection of wonders from around the Tea Realms. To destroy one part would go against what the Museum stands for. Have a lovely day." Day after day, the Book remained untouched and sometimes avoided, yet many eyes had to have only the barest of glimpses of that strange tome.

One day, as Paul began the closing of the Museum for the evening, he heard someone cough in the room where the Book was displayed. He walked in to find a woman with long brown hair pulled into a ponytail wearing a deep green robe while standing in front of the glass case.
        As he approached, the woman turned to face him, showing off her beautiful deep blue eyes. Paul suddenly stopped in his tracks, bowed low, and said, "My Lady, it warms my hear to see you here."
       The woman bowed low before him, then replied in a light tone, "Forgive me for coming right when you are about the close, yet I had to see the wonder myself."
        "It is no trouble for me at all, especially when a Lady of the Matcha pays a visit." The woman blushed, causing faint green colour to rise to her pale cheeks. He stepped closer. "I see your curiosity brings you to the Book of Forbidden Teas," he said as she nodded.
        "To have been told of such a Book and of its dangers," the woman replied, "of course, I had to see it for myself." The Order of the Matcha was seen as one of the higher Orders within the Tea Realms. It was said that even the Mystics themselves consulted the Order of the Matcha when they had a matter before them and no decision could be made. The Order was also, strangely enough, known for their good sense of humour and their professional ability at the art of conversation. Paul moved a bit closer toward her and could smell the faint grassy scent wafting from her. He wanted to swoon, yet held himself in check.
       "Would you care to touch the Book?" Paul asked, to which the woman shook her head no.
       "For my kind to touch such a thing would actually cause the powder in our blood to weaken. That is how we live for so long." It was said that all Matcha on the Human side was actually crafted from the Order's blood, given freely and willingly. "I simply can not, but thank you." She winked at Paul, causing him to feel a warmth in his heart that was not displeasing.
       "Well, at least enjoy looking at the Book," Paul replied, "and I'll return in five minutes. If you like . . . I can walk you to your House."
       "That would be lovely and my name is Parsha." Paul and Parsha bowed to each other, then Paul returned to his closing duties. Five minutes later, on the dot, Paul sauntered into the room to find Parsha still standing in front of the glass case.
       "Parsha . . . my Lady," Paul said in a sweet tone, only to frown when she didn't turn around or reply. He walked up to her, tapped her on the shoulder, then gasped and  quickly fell back as she slowly turned around. Strange symbols now covered her green tinted face, as her eyes were now the brightest green and wide with shock. She slowly raised a hand toward him.
       "My lady," Paul gasped as Parsha slowly moved toward him. "Please, let me get someone for you!" Before he could flee, he screamed as several of the symbols flew from her arm toward him. He swatted at them, but to no avail as the symbols landed on his face. He rubbed his face vigorously, then looked as more of the symbols appeared on his hands. He looked up with horror to see Parsha's mouth moving silently. Just then, he heard a soft male voice speak within his mind: Open the door. Open the door and walk through. Paul noticed that Parsha's mouth "spoke" the same words, yet he could only hear the male voice. Paul's eyes rolled back as he crumpled to the ground without a sound.

To be continued.