Chapter Text
She had always craved for another, maybe a child or a lover. But life was not kind to the young lady. It was often filled with hardship and crazies. Thankfully, she had always been quite astute, and very good with the flute. She did what she could for money and would wander over yonder for honey. Eventually, back when boat trips were cheaper and good work was cleaner, her temporary crew had landed in a dangerous brew. An island full of odd critters that skittered and full of beasts that were grittier and withered. Eventually she came upon an edge where a ghost in the future would pledge. Here, before tragedy of the future would befall she saw what she could only call:
Clockwork
The primordial’s title could only be pronounced with a chime,
That which is an incorrect name
For which could only be rhymed with time.
I come for a claim
Whispered the ticking of metal and sand,
Ticking quietly as if worried about breaking something, about keeping a plan.
Yes, yours will do nicely I say
Come, won’t you come my way?
I know what your mind craves,
With it I can pave.
Yes, I shall carve you a child,
One whom shall be reviled,
Then, once The Ancient King awakens,
I’ll evaluate which paths he has taken.
That way I can evaluate humanity’s fate
And then take that Herald as my gate.
In return, you can have a child of your own
With no man to tie you down or condone.
You shall live your life
Together as a family, free of outside strife.
Alongside this, humanity shall gain a chance to save their face.
For, in a future, they're condemned to a grueling facade;
Full of horrors and fears,
Fueled by terrors and tears.
Yes, I see this as fair,
Between wind, sand and ancient flair.
Do you agree, child that I have deemed right
To whom the clocks have chimed tonight?
The woman looked at the clockwork amalgamate in keen horror. This beast was no organic monster, who was she to call herself an explorer!? Mechanical wings that clicked and ticked, endless eyes which pierced and twitched. She stared quietly until something clicked, something that made no sense so it had to be tricked. “You want to gift me a child? Why? Why would something so reviled?”
The creature cocked its ‘head’ sideways, a head made of iron and false feathers. The bells on its electrical wings seemingly sing of praise, as its body becomes more tethered. Slowly, the machines turn more rapidly, they turn and turn insensibly. Finally, the clog-work slows down, but what is revealed makes her frown. In the center of steam-work halls lies a woman who stands just as tall. Then stands a man with a brown hat. Then stands a shadow with a desire for a chat. The chiming sings out brazenly and a different her stands heavenly.
Why, I told you already.
If you would calm down and tell me,
What would your answer be
Then I could leave carefree.
The Other Woman, clockwork and pipe-work and iron coating all around her, pouts childishly, yet she does not react defensively. Whatever this thing is does not mean her harm, yet it does not mean to arm. It simply does what it wants, with a few flaunts. Nevertheless she has heard of tales like these before, and if she is to sell her soul she wants to know what is in store.
“If I agree to this, what is the cost,
what must I sacrifice, what will be lost?”
The Other Woman shifted back into the brown wearing lad, he had a smile just brimming with what she once had. Unlike her all those years before, he is different in what he wore; and, just like The Other Woman, he had gold sand in his eyes and clockwork in his mind. Just who was this man, were they from the same kind?
You lose what every mother has sacrificed
Feel thankful, The Others don’t play nice.
Now, please, accept what I have enticed
And I can guarantee a kinder price.
“I. . .” why was it so hard to think? There had to be a way to get away from this sink! But her heart was heavy with loneliness. Maybe it was worth it, she’d have a child all of her own, one who would never know sharpness. At least in youth. A child who would decide the future truth. A creation between something beyond eternal and something bound by, to be ephemeral. Yes, her child will be exceptional.
“Yes,” she states, “I accept.”
“Alongside that I have a precept,”
“I-"
Worry not, I already know what you will decree.
I am all that has been, could be, would be, and will be.
Your proposal was predisposed, which is how it is won.
Be not afraid, for you have conceived a much greater son.
“Wait, son?”
In a flash she awakens to the morning sun.
She searches her pockets and finds a pocket clock, for too expensive to be her own.
3:10pm, then she seeks a nearby person for the date and they laughed at how fast time had flown.
Her crew had set sail an hour earlier, and, supposedly, had sailed even readier.
“Good thing you missed it ma’am,
That ship went down like a clam!”
She laughed even when he paused, confused at his rhyming.
“That’s odd,” he murmured, “I’m not one for timing.”
“It's fine,” she states, oddly confident.
“It’ll work out in the end,” she says with intent.
In the following months she finally gets steady employment.
In the ninth, she awakens in a hospital bed with a baby in hand, she laughs in enjoyment.
“Congratulations, it's a boy. What would you name your Little Herald?”
“Why I think I’ll name him Howard.”
She pauses abruptly in her joy,
Silently, she stares up at the nurse, Troy.
His eyes are hazy and not-looking, clockwork ticks in his irises.
“Howard, Howard Plunkett, what a human name.” He said like the word contained viruses.
“Oh well, that decision is yours to make.
Welcome to motherhood, Miss Plunkett.
I hope you don’t make me take
What you and I made, Prophet.”