The Retainer of the Clock Tower (Part 1)

Transcript

Stepping out into the mid-morning sun, she paused, struck by just how different the world around her was. She knew what she had been getting into, and the conversation with the picturesque knight just moments before had prepared her. Or so she thought.

The cobblestone ground under her feet was familiar enough, but her fundamental understanding of how reality ought to be ended there. The architecture and materials used in the buildings around her could have only existed in a city that went painstakingly out of its way to preserve a thousand-year-old history, and the people that mulled about them would have been wearing impressive costumes had it not been for the grime, sweat, and wear and tear of their daily lives that forced the thought into her mind that this was indeed just that, and not an elaborate stage play. The language that came out of their mouths was all she was familiar with, and even then with the alien world she had been forced into, even the way their lips moved seemed foreign in a manner that she could not comprehend.

It was not the feeling a child has when abandoned in the store, and their mind starts to swell as their body starts to turn, their vision blurring by the moment until it erupts in a scream of absolute terror from their lips. Instead, it was that of a dream. A very upsetting dream, lingering somewhere on the border of fever and nightmare, every moment and every detail only confusing you more as you desperately try to piece it together and make any sort of sense while anxiety lurks around each corner like a predator waiting to pounce and instill in absolute dread.

It was the towers that caught her eyes first, and began to anchor her into this new reality, for they loomed far above any other rooftop, and could be seen anywhere within and for miles outside of the city. There were three of them, spanning from her left to her right, perpendicular to the line that the sun crept through the sky on. The southern tower, the one that Lux had spoken of as being his own residence, was in such a dismal state that even from the great distance at which she stood, she knew it would not stand much longer, and that each stone in its foundation was cracked and each pillar of wood that made such a height possible was rotting away.

It was such a stark contrast from the man who had so warmly greeted her inside that she snapped her eyes away in denial, and turned towards the center of the city where the second tower lay. It was larger and taller than the other two by a noticeable amount, as if an arm was extending from the ground, keen on keeping everything inside the walls within its reach. It was in better condition than the one to the right of it, but she did not linger there for long, because the tower in the north soon demanded her attention.

The sound of the bell carried itself through the city in such a way that it was impossible for any not to hear it. Though the sight alone was enough to hold her gaze. It was as different from the first two as they had been from each other, if not more so, for the white face of a massive clock, standing out with such contrast between the blackened stone that held it up, was something she had never expected to see in such a place.

And for a moment, it almost made her question if the sick dream she had sunken into was beginning to fade or not. But of course, that was all so long ago, wasn't it? I wonder how much time has passed since you first laid your eyes on the clock tower.

It was your first day. Can you remember how many have come and gone? I can, of course.

That's something I keep track of very carefully, because I know you won't. So here you are, headed towards that ominous monolith, just like you were before, but this time with a purpose, right? You're not aimlessly wandering through the city, no.

You understand it a bit more, or, well, so you like to think. I hope you didn't forget that letter you were supposed to bring. Another? How many pathetic, insolent peasants come knocking each day? The guards are supposed to turn anyone of less importance away, I swear, if I see another.

Hello, my apologies, but the master's gone to bed already and can't be bothered. I have to advise you to come again in the morning. Thank you for stopping by, and I do hope you have a good evening.

Wait! Excuse me. Please, accept my dearest apologies.

We have had beggars and merchants knocking all day, I jumped to conclusions. But I shouldn't have. I see that now.

You are the woman from the shipwreck, correct? I thought so. I had been given a description of you, but thought you had left the town.

Had I known otherwise? Ah. Well, of course I have a description of you.

Visitors to Extempore are rare enough in this season, and word spreads quickly, but when a vessel crashes and a single soul is left among the ruin, well, it spreads all the faster. But obviously, you are no merchant trying to bother Lord Umbrian too. Well, whatever it is you need.

So please, tell me. How may I be of assistance? A letter for the king.

You are aware that the clock tower is not the king's residence, aren't you? Hmm. Well, I suppose Lux would be right in that.

Short of a response from the king, Umbra is the closest one can get. And the letter being from Lux himself as well, you should have said so right away. Who am I to deny another lord? May I have the letter? Oh no, I am not Lord Umbra.

Come, please step inside. It's cold out and the night is getting darker. I can't imagine what Umbra would think of me if I left his guest waiting on the doorstep.

There, that's better, isn't it? Now where were we? Ah, yes.

I'm afraid the answer is no, I am not the man you were looking for. Umbra is away, off to meet with Tenebris in the north. He's been gone two nights now, and I imagine he has only just arrived.

It may be another week before he has returned and settled. So in lieu of the lord, allow me to introduce myself. I am Lakardu, but please, you can simply call me Card.

I am the retainer of this clock tower and Umbra's right hand for all matters. You may certainly leave the letter in my hands if you wish. If it would put you at ease, you are also welcome to hold on to it until he returns and deliver it to Umbra himself.

But I assure you that I will also hand it directly to him. Hmm, you seem hesitant. Please, I would never hold you here against your wish, nor would I dare pry that paper from your hands.

If you would prefer it, I can send for you, wherever it is you are staying, once Lord Umbra has returned, and are free to do as you wish until then. I suppose you are free to do as you wish after that point as well, if you wish to deliver the letter or not. Ah, not hesitation then, but urgency.

I understand my mistake. Well, while I can turn the gears above us faster, to move the hour forward, I'm afraid I cannot actually control time itself. And Lord Umbra will return when he does.

But come, if we are to discuss this, I won't do it standing in the entranceway. It seems so crude and rushed, for something which, as you have just said, is important. Here, please sit.

It does not matter where. I know the furniture looks nice, but it is intended to be sat on, not stared at. Are you thirsty at all? I could grab some water, if you would like.

No? Just me then. Well, I suppose that's normal enough.

Now, about that letter. May I see it, or would you prefer to open and read it? Thank you.

Let us see, what do we have here? Addressed to the king, to be taken seriously, though I am not sure what other purpose someone would write to the king. Here we are.

Something is awry. Something indeed, Lord Lux, and I am glad you agree. The plague, yes, a subject that we are all well aware of, but something deeper than that.

A curse. You didn't like that word, did you? Oh, there is no need to explain, I could tell.

You did not like it for the same reason many don't. Myself, and as he goes on to explain, Lux as well, included in that many. It's foolish, and such things don't exist.

Plague, curses, spells, their stories, superstitions to be put lightly, but I think Lux knows that. He's a very smart man, after all. He has lived longer than his appearance might let on, and unlike most, I believe that each day of his life has been one of learning and understanding.

The man has been through quite a lot. If anyone does have the right to label something a curse, perhaps it is him. Are you sure you're not thirsty? No water? Very well.

Ah, yes, and then he mentions Vivette. Fitting, I suppose, that I had just said he had been through a lot. I see that expression, but I'm afraid that is a story for another time, and perhaps one he ought to tell you himself.

Moving on from there, ah, yes, the concerning mortality of this city and its civilians. The drownings, the accidents, the not-quite-so accidents, tragic, all of them, and certainly more than that. I myself was beginning to wonder where the King's response to this all has been.

Are you cold? I am so very sorry. I leave the upper windows open all the time.

Perhaps it's the clothing I wear, but I never seem to remember the draft they cause. Please, I can see how stiffly you sit. Take this blanket.

No, no, no, I don't need it, I swear. I have always had poor circulation. It's just my hands that seem cold, I can hardly feel it.

I'm fine. The blanket is yours. After we finish this letter, I can close those windows.

Perhaps it would be for the better. You never know when something might fly in. Is that better? If you would like, I could grab something warm to drink as well.

No? I'm jealous. I seem to always be thirsty.

Oh, no, I am fine. If my guest will go without, then so will I. Water is rather tasteless as well.

I will get something when we are done here. Pardon the interruption. Back to the letter, shall we? Let's see, closer to the end now.

Ah, yes, he mentions you, you know. Well perhaps that was a little generous. I should say, he mentions the sole survivor of the shipwreck, which, of course, can only be one person.

I like to think I would have included at least your name. It is always good to have your name be known by the king, and what a better way than attaching such a title to it. Sole survivor of the ship that, well, a dark subject for you, I'm sure, I'm sorry.

I won't dwell on it. And then, ah, Lux, ah, I'm sorry, you just, briefly, I should add, so perhaps I shouldn't draw that much attention to it. The rest of the letter seems perfectly logical, and he makes very sensible and meaningful requests, but I cannot help to notice what I interpret to be either his subconscious slipping through or him trying to subtly draw the king's attention to a place I'm afraid I disagree with.

Well, he mentions the rumors, you see, of the church in the north, in Orcasor. Ironically enough, likely the very place that Umbra has gone for his meeting. Now he does not go into detail, but even for a lord, to so much as mention these rumors is painful, perhaps.

Why? Well, because, because you are a newcomer, of course, I apologize, I forget that you likely haven't heard of such things. It's for the better, to be honest.

And if any were to tell you about these tales, I would rather it be I than a drunk in a bar who would sell his soul to convince you. There have been rumors, as I mentioned, of this church in the north, specifically of the cemetery there. Being a cemetery, many children, and perhaps it comes from their parents at bedtime, like to create stories of fear, horror stories, little visions to taunt their friends' nightmares, ghosts, ghouls, and the dead rising from their grave.

They are things anyone has heard at least once in their life, I'm sure. But for some strange reason, this specific cemetery has latched onto the people's words more than others. So much so, it seems, that even Lux, oh, Lux, it pains me to say, but I would sooner believe the stories of the monsters in the mountains to the south and in the woods to the northeast than I would these.

Hmm. Oh, they are just as foolish, I assure you. But perhaps the howling in the woods at night suggests Cades has a wolf problem.

Not necessarily a creature of another nature. Still, I think I would sooner believe in monsters than I would the dead rising. Are you all right? You look.

Well, that is more gracious. I'm sorry to say, but I was going to use the word exhausted. It's late, isn't it? It must be ironic that the keeper of the clock tower has lost track of time.

I am so very sorry. I didn't intend to keep you so late. I will have the guards escort you back to where you are staying right away.

It will only take a moment. You are staying somewhere, aren't you? I mistook your expression before, so correct me if I'm wrong, but this time I do think I am seeing hesitation.

Not yet.