The Keeper Brothers

Though he'd seen it a thousand times, the sight of the large tree, lit up in the night never failed to take his breath away. He looked around in wonder at the rainbow of lights surrounding the tree and reached out toward them. They seemed so close that he could touch them, yet his outstretched hand could not quite grasp them. He went closer and looked up, the multi-coloured lights filling his vision.

Smiling, he watched the lights swirl and dance about, turning into little shadow-movies of sorts a short while before they were simply lights again. His breath caught in his throat as he heard a faint sound, growing slowly in volume. Turning around, he released the breath and smiled at the sight of his brother, who waved, a cherry grin spread firm across his own lips. The brother was clad in stripey blue, a long tail and an old-fashioned bed hat, almost identical to him but for the blue his brother wore where he was clothed in yellow.

It took the brother a few short steps to reach him, and they stand together, arms round one another's shoulders, their gazes on the rainbow lights, dancing and swirling in the dark night sky, under the shade of the big tree. After a moment, the blue brother pointed a little to the side of the tree under which they stood, toward another tree surrounded by lights of dancing silver. That's your tree. He told him telepathically. While the brothers were mute, they had become so close that they could hear one another's thoughts.
I know, said the yellow brother. But yours is so colourful and pretty!
dreams are pretty, said the blue brother, but memories can be beautiful too. Without memories, there would be no basis for dreams..
We are both magical, agreed the brother in yellow. the dreamer and the rememberer, the dream keeper and the memory keeper
Yes said the blue brother as they both set about the work. Everyday they would meet here by the Keeper Trees as they were known, the dreamer to collect dreams to make people smile, and the yellow brother to gather memories, those lost, those momentarily forgotten. To help people who had lost their minds remember, to remind those in trouble of those good times amidst the bad.

The brothers looked at each other, the dreamer with his sack full of dreams slung over his shoulder, the rememberer with his suitcase, filled with memories in hand. Together, they walked up the path, stopping and turning to one another at it's end.
Here is where dreams begin, said the Dreamer.
Here is where memories lost are restored, said the Rememberer.

And so the brothers set out into the world, shadows under cover of darkness, whispers in the wind. They went about their work without anybody noticing, afraid of what it might mean if they were seen. They don't look as ordinary as you and I. The Keeper brothers are special, and they;'re important. Be sure to thank them the next time you recall a treasured memory, or find yourself in an unbelievable fantasy while you sleep. Because you may not see them, or even hear them, but they can hear us, and it's always nice to be thanked sometimes.
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This story is a sequel to Dreaming Winds, which you can read here