Chapter Text
The only sound that dared echo through the halls of the tower was that of her own heels. Long, purposeful, practised strides striking the ground at every second exactly, perfectly echoing the rhythmic ticking of the metallic clock of her being.
It was melodic in a way she couldn’t describe. Gave her a sense of calm as if to tell her everything was progressing smoothly, orderly, and without delay.
Azure banners hung from every other white marble stone pillar, casting soft blue light onto the hall from the tall stained-glass windows behind them. She didn’t look at any of those. Way too gaudy for her taste.
Two sharply dressed men with clocks instead of heads moved to open the pair of large wooden doors at the end of the hall, etched with intricate designs of galaxies, waves, and flowers.
The door led to her office, where she spent most of her time these days.
She paused in front of the open door, and a deafening silence washed through the hall. Movement inside.
No one was supposed to be in there.
The Warden put on a stern face, half expecting to find one of the maids tidying up a mess she expertly ignored, and stepped into the room.
It was a massive, vertical, colosseum-shaped space, with soft, warm light filtering in from a skylight high above. The inner workings of the massive clock face outside led into here, huge wooden cog wheels and mechanisms held up by scaffolding and maybe a little bit of magic keeping the world in perfect sync.
Any and all free wallspace was lined with bookshelves, filled to the brim with works by Aristotle, Ptolemy, and Galileo to name a few big names. Mumei would often come and hang out here, sometimes adding her own works into the mix -- though it was getting hard to find space to put new books, and she was running out of vertical space fast.
The Warden peered around the space, listening for the shuffling of flats, the shifting of fabric, or the soft ticking typical of the residents of her tower, but heard nothing. She stalked towards her desk as quietly as she could, checking around it for the downy feathers that she’d rag on Mumei for leaving everywhere, and then moved towards the set of circular stairs inset in the wall directly behind it.
This was the most excitement she had gotten all day, she was not letting this one go.
The first level housed books about the Creation, stories about The Paradise and the Ancient Ages written by a race long since gone extinct. Most of it was just existential gibberish, and she’d read all of them many times before.
The second and third levels were about the evolution of life, dawn of man, and all that sort of stuff. There were a few other things scattered in there as well, but the Warden never really bothered to look into that.
The fourth, fifth, and sixth levels were a random mix of anything, and usually where the Guardian would spend most of her time. The Warden didn’t know half of the stuff that was up there, and trusted that it was organised in some fashion. There was the sound of shifting fabric on the sixth level.
The Warden took one step onto the platform and paused, straining her ears over the rhythm of the clock. A buzzing feeling resounded deep within her being, typical of stray Artefacts or other magic objects, and followed the feeling towards a nook she hadn’t known about until just then.
Books were piled in heaps, having been thrown out of their places, some lying open, others with folded pages. The Warden regarded them only briefly before locking eyes with the being.
“Who are you?” Her voice resounded, deep, commanding, expectant. The being only stared up at her, wide-eyed; a mortal, a human, and the last person she’d expect to be in her clocktower.
She wore a tan deerstalker and overcoat, covering a sensible white collared shirt and brown-plaid skirt. Black thigh-highs did little to conceal the S&W Model 10 at her hip.
The Warden would be remiss if she didn’t think this was a very 1910s police detective.
The detective clutched a rather large, purple-covered book close to her chest, remaining deathly still as the Warden regarded her through narrowed eyes. She drew one of her swords, tapping the blade against the ground to the rhythm of the clockwork high above.
“Answer me.”
After a moment she spoke. “I- I’m uh… I’m running short on time right now, we’ll have to talk later--”
The Warden’s eyes snapped toward the watch as she pulled it from her pocket. Her heart thrummed loud in her ears. Only four were made, expertly crafted by the Warden herself as a gift to each of the members of the Council, channelled with her own power so they could visit her whenever in Time she was.
“Where did you get that?” She drew her other sword, her voice echoing dangerously as she stepped towards the detective. “How did you find it?”
“Uh…” A flash of fear in her eyes. “Gotta go!” A click of the crown and she was gone.
The Warden slammed the blade of the sword deep into the wood where the time traveller disappeared, making a tsk noise. Whose watch had she stolen? What was she going to do with it? Gods, this was going to be a pain.
Instead of directly following the detective to wherever she ended up, the Warden reached deep into her consciousness, pulling the beings of the other Concepts to her tower. No need for communion or extravagance or whatever, this was important.
Civilisation appeared first, still caught up in a doodle. She waved at her giddily.
Nature came next, her eyes closed, quiet, serene.
Space was third, pouting already (she was probably messing with black holes before this).
And Chaos was the last; upside-down, but watching her expectantly with those all-knowing eyes.
“There is a purpose for this meeting.” She confirmed firsthand, stern, commanding, serious. “There is a time traveller on the loose. She has one of my watches and has taken the Tome of the Ancient Ones.”