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The sharp blinding light searing through my house. A pale figure grabbing, twisting and a scream. The water hit my skin like bullets as I sat all alone in the rain on my seventh birthday.
The slam of the door still lingered in the air, the echo filling the room. Through the small circular window, I admired the picturesque view of the sea. The lighthouse stood at the edge of the rocks, faded red and white painted onto the cylindrical building. The small beam of light shining from the light house reflected off the water. I turned my back onto the view too hurt to look at the sight.
My room was on the highest floor making it freezing in winter. The drafts howled against the slate roof, and at night the wind hollered against the closed shutters. My window was the smallest of all of them in the shop. The pensmith workshop had wide double-glass windows that showed a beautiful view of all the Christmas stalls. Coloured lights were twined all over the street lamps and people were getting ready for Christmas by making fruit cakes, treacle puddings and hams.
The workshop was the one place I wasn't allowed in but of course, I didn't care about that. On the morning of Christmas Eve, I snuck downstairs before my grandparents woke up. It wasn't my first time down here, but the shop looked much different. Stockings and Christmas decorations were hung around the room and new pens were put in front of the glass display boxes. The mahogany desk was littered with peculiar objects.
The first one was an old rustic typewriter that my grandfather kept. The second was a golden tipped feather quill that was half dipped in fresh ink. The last was a little velvet bag which I of course had to open. Inside contained a small brass pocket watch that was encrusted with little quartz diamonds that shimmered in the sun. The hands of the clock were very peculiar as they swung in the opposite direction and instead of two hands there were three. I widened my eyes as I heard footsteps down the stairs and quickly slipped the watch into my pocket. I quietly ran to the back door and winced as the bells jingled subtly. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I pulled over my fur hood and proceeded up to the attic.
When I was sure I couldn't hear anybody, I slowly took the watch out of my fur lined jacket. On closer inspection I saw very small engraved symbols on the face of the clock. On the back, there was a very faint outline of two words: The 'Chronometer'. I looked curiously at the brass hands that seem to have no control. Suddenly, I saw a small corner of parchment sticking out of the watch face. I peeled off my gloves and slowly twisted the glass dome on top of the clock. Inside was a very thin piece of parchment. It read, 'Perditus factus est non inveni'. Underneath these words was a giant blot of ink concealing the writer's identity. I looked in wonder as I experimented with the dials. I twisted one to a clock, one to a tree and the final to a fox. I heard a small click and I heard the sound of gears whirring inside the watch.
A bright light engulfed the room and when it faded, all that was left was an abandoned pair of peacock blue leather gloves.
The sharp jades, limes and emeralds swam before my eyes revealing a thick foliage of shimmering gold fireflies. All I could do was stand in awe. This magical coven was perfect and yet there was not a single person in sight. This secret hideaway seemed frozen in time.
The only thing in sight was a spark of rich reds and golds. A fire fox kept out of the iridescent sunlight and sparks flew. Something was wrong. This fire fox was not any normal creature. It could speak and it had a very important message for me. The inhabitants of Elysium are in grave danger from a power that is ever thirsty from ambition. The future of Elysium is in your hands.
In the misty distance, a towering forest stood stealing the sunlight. The only sound heard was ticking. Ticking from clocks. I reached back into my pocket to grab my pocket watch with pale shaking hands.
I slowly headed into the direction of the forest until I heard a deep rumbling sound. "Who dares to disturb the great guardian," I revealed myself to the great clockwork giant . He was created with twisting vines, gnarled roots and knotted trees. This was no ordinary forest warden.
"May I enter your forest?" I fumbled hoping the warden hadn't seen the watch. " Foolish children think they can enter at their own will, if you can clear all the leaf litter in the forest by sundown you are free to enter." I knelt down before the earth and apologized to the forest nymphs hoping they would help protect the trees. Lighting a match, I watched the flames creep against the fallen leaves. It was almost sundown and I had completed the task. I had the feeling that perhaps I needed to be nice to get out of here alive. This was only one of the difficult tasks to come. I listened to the forest and let it play me its song.
The slam of the door still lingered in the air, the echo filling the room. Through the small circular window, I admired the picturesque view of the sea. The lighthouse stood at the edge of the rocks, faded red and white painted onto the cylindrical building. The small beam of light shining from the light house reflected off the water. I turned my back onto the view too hurt to look at the sight.
My room was on the highest floor making it freezing in winter. The drafts howled against the slate roof, and at night the wind hollered against the closed shutters. My window was the smallest of all of them in the shop. The pensmith workshop had wide double-glass windows that showed a beautiful view of all the Christmas stalls. Coloured lights were twined all over the street lamps and people were getting ready for Christmas by making fruit cakes, treacle puddings and hams.
The workshop was the one place I wasn't allowed in but of course, I didn't care about that. On the morning of Christmas Eve, I snuck downstairs before my grandparents woke up. It wasn't my first time down here, but the shop looked much different. Stockings and Christmas decorations were hung around the room and new pens were put in front of the glass display boxes. The mahogany desk was littered with peculiar objects.
The first one was an old rustic typewriter that my grandfather kept. The second was a golden tipped feather quill that was half dipped in fresh ink. The last was a little velvet bag which I of course had to open. Inside contained a small brass pocket watch that was encrusted with little quartz diamonds that shimmered in the sun. The hands of the clock were very peculiar as they swung in the opposite direction and instead of two hands there were three. I widened my eyes as I heard footsteps down the stairs and quickly slipped the watch into my pocket. I quietly ran to the back door and winced as the bells jingled subtly. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I pulled over my fur hood and proceeded up to the attic.
When I was sure I couldn't hear anybody, I slowly took the watch out of my fur lined jacket. On closer inspection I saw very small engraved symbols on the face of the clock. On the back, there was a very faint outline of two words: The 'Chronometer'. I looked curiously at the brass hands that seem to have no control. Suddenly, I saw a small corner of parchment sticking out of the watch face. I peeled off my gloves and slowly twisted the glass dome on top of the clock. Inside was a very thin piece of parchment. It read, 'Perditus factus est non inveni'. Underneath these words was a giant blot of ink concealing the writer's identity. I looked in wonder as I experimented with the dials. I twisted one to a clock, one to a tree and the final to a fox. I heard a small click and I heard the sound of gears whirring inside the watch.
A bright light engulfed the room and when it faded, all that was left was an abandoned pair of peacock blue leather gloves.
The sharp jades, limes and emeralds swam before my eyes revealing a thick foliage of shimmering gold fireflies. All I could do was stand in awe. This magical coven was perfect and yet there was not a single person in sight. This secret hideaway seemed frozen in time.
The only thing in sight was a spark of rich reds and golds. A fire fox kept out of the iridescent sunlight and sparks flew. Something was wrong. This fire fox was not any normal creature. It could speak and it had a very important message for me. The inhabitants of Elysium are in grave danger from a power that is ever thirsty from ambition. The future of Elysium is in your hands.
In the misty distance, a towering forest stood stealing the sunlight. The only sound heard was ticking. Ticking from clocks. I reached back into my pocket to grab my pocket watch with pale shaking hands.
I slowly headed into the direction of the forest until I heard a deep rumbling sound. "Who dares to disturb the great guardian," I revealed myself to the great clockwork giant . He was created with twisting vines, gnarled roots and knotted trees. This was no ordinary forest warden.
"May I enter your forest?" I fumbled hoping the warden hadn't seen the watch. " Foolish children think they can enter at their own will, if you can clear all the leaf litter in the forest by sundown you are free to enter." I knelt down before the earth and apologized to the forest nymphs hoping they would help protect the trees. Lighting a match, I watched the flames creep against the fallen leaves. It was almost sundown and I had completed the task. I had the feeling that perhaps I needed to be nice to get out of here alive. This was only one of the difficult tasks to come. I listened to the forest and let it play me its song.