Chapter 1 – The Girl From Nowhere
Long ago in a land unknown, there was an old clock-maker who lived alone with his daughter.
The clock-maker was of exceptional skill, but the ticking hands of his pieces were lifeless, for the spark of his passion vanished along with the presence of his wife. His daughter, on the other hand, was talentless but heartfelt, and her clumsy creations always had a bit of joy.
In order to make a living, the two decided to combine their abilities. The clock-maker would build the frame, and the daughter would fill it with love. Together, they made the finest clocks in all the land.
But the daughter did not simply want to guide her father’s listless hands. She wished to find her own skill, to become exceptional all on her own. So on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, she set out…
– Excerpt from, “The Girl Who Walked Through Time”
----------------------------------------
“Gwendolyn? Gwendolyn?”
A hand waved in front of her face.
“Your food is getting cold.”
Pale gold eyes blinked slowly as she reluctantly slid her attention away from the page. She had been reading an interesting short story about a girl that walked through the past to find the whereabouts of her mother, who disappeared when she was young. Though the premise was simple, the tale was engrossing enough to carry all the way to the breakfast table.
But as her host had succinctly pointed out, her distraction by reading had caused the plate of eggs in front of her to grow cold.
“Sorry, Primrose,” she said curtly, gently closing the book. “I picked up another fairytale today.”
Gwendolyn raised her gaze up even more, coming face-to-face with her host. Primrose was a dark-haired woman with a bob cut who was dressed in a knightly fashion. Her armor was light yet practical and didn’t inhibit any movement and she wore no helmet, leaving her exasperated expression open for all to see.
“It’s only been two days since you got here and you’ve already gone through half of my collection…” She sighed. “Are you really the same girl that could barely talk just yesterday?”
Gwendolyn chewed on her cold eggs, thoughts swirling. “Is my improving condition not a cause for joy?”
“No, that’s not what I– I mean, it is but that’s–” Primrose stuttered at the terrible insinuations behind Gwendolyn’s innocent question. “Yes, I’m glad you’re getting better, but I’m… lost, I suppose. I’ve never taken care of anyone who…”
“Lost their memories?”
“Yes. That.” There was an awkward pause for a moment. “Do you really not remember anything?”
Gwendolyn gingerly put down her eating utensils. This was not the first time this question had been asked. Just a few days ago, when she was barely able to sit up in bed, they gave her a slate and chalk and asked her about everything they could think of. “Where did you come from?” “What’s your name?” “What happened to you?”
They asked and asked and asked, trying so earnestly to help her recover. But no matter how much she searched the inner recesses of her mind, the slate they gave her remained empty and unused.
Even the name she used now was merely a substitute until her real one could be found.
“I don’t,” Gwendolyn stated plainly. “The moment where my memories begin was when I woke up in that bed, my health examined by the healers.”
Primrose rubbed her forehead at that, straining to hide her concern. “I thought this would be temporary,” she admitted. “You didn’t look all that hurt when you showed up at the gate. More exhausted than anything. The healers swore up and down that you had no major injuries, much less any on your head.”
Gwendolyn simply nodded at that, unable to think of anything to add. Paradoxically, her generous host seemed more vexed than she was about her condition.
After sipping her coffee, Primrose continued on. “Not to mention the rest of you. I know those features of yours aren’t decoration, but it seems so unreal. The horns, the scales, and the tail…”
“It’s not something you’ve seen before.”
“It’s not something I think anyone has seen before, Gwendolyn.”
Subconsciously, Gwendolyn felt said tail swish back and forth. One of the things she had noticed after waking up was the puzzled reactions of the healers that took care of her during the brief time she was in the hospice. The thin black horns that circled her head drew eyes, the riddling of patterned scales on her limbs elicited surprise, and the thick tail that trailed after her never failed to prompt a gasp of shock.
No one knew what to make of it. Not even herself. And such unusual features on an already unusual girl did nothing but bring up more unanswerable questions.
“I understand why you’re confused,” Gwendolyn said softly. “But I really don’t know what to say.”
She knew there was nothing to be done now, otherwise she would have done something long ago. She accepted this as fact.
She wished others would do the same soon.
“...Sorry, I shouldn’t push you.” Primrose shook her head. “How about we put this behind us for now? Since you’re feeling good enough to walk around, I can give you a brief rundown of Cassius. I think it’ll do you good to get some fresh air.”
Gwendolyn palmed the fairytale book, feeling the urge to sit down and read the rest of the day instead. However, her natural curiosity overtook her desire to indulge herself, and she found herself nodding along. “I would be agreeable to that.”
“Great.” Primrose downed the rest of her coffee. “Let me grab my spear first and then we’ll be off.”
“I’ll be waiting by the door.” Gwendolyn rose from her seat. “What about the dishes?”
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Primrose’s steps halted as if finally remembering there was now an extra chore to do. “...Just run some water into the oily parts and leave it. I’ll wash them when I get home.”
“If you’re certain.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it! It’s fine.”
‘You don’t sound very fine though,’ Was the sentence Gwendolyn did not voice. Instead, she followed Primrose’s instructions, leaving her plate with the rest of the dirty dishes before heading to the door.
After a minute, Primrose rejoined her, now wielding a spear on her back. She gave her a nod, her eyebrows still pinched in that same worried expression that she wore around her all the time. “Ready to go?”
“Yes.” Gwendolyn turned to the door. “Please take care of me.”
Primrose needed no further confirmation.
A gentle gust flew in through the now open door, welcoming Gwendolyn to a whole new world. Even from her perch inside Primrose’s house, she could see the stone-paved streets and the bustle of activity. Neighbors greeted each other from across their warm-colored houses, a few of them tending to the flowering plants that grew on their windows. A part of her wanted to take in these sights, to relish the serenade of life that had appeared before her, but Primrose was already out on the street, beckoning her over.
For a moment, Gwendolyn hesitated, but the feeling quickly passed. In a single step, her scaled feet crossed the boundary of the house and was warmed by the sunlit stones.
She glanced upward, drinking in the experience of being under the bright blue sky as she closed the door behind her.
“Huh…” Primrose muttered, pulling Gwendolyn’s attention back towards her. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since you got here.”
The horned girl reached up to touch her cheeks, only now noticing the way they taunt. “How strange,” she said, but her smile didn’t fade. “Mayhaps I was an outdoors kind of girl before all this?”
“Maybe.” Primrose smiled back. “Come on. I don’t have too much time before I have to head to the office. Captain duties and all that.”
“Of course.”
They left the house side-by-side, with Primrose sticking close to Gwendolyn. To her surprise, the guardian was an excellent guide. Every description over twists and turns was suffused with local pride, a tender love for her hometown that shone like the waxing moon. Gwendolyn could hardly get her mind off those tales, the memories being carefully curated like a museum’s most prized displays.
It was almost enough to get her to ignore the needling stares that followed her every step.
“As you can see, Cassius is a bit of a jumbled town. We don’t have any formal districts, but businesses and trades still tend to congregate together, so our buildings are split into their individual sections.” Her guide counted on her fingers. “There’s the Bazaar, Tradesmen, Administrative Districts to the North. And where we are is the Middle-Class District, bordered by the Low-Class and High-Class Districts. The entire Residential Areas are located in the South. All of this leads into the Central Plaza, which has two main roads leading to the West Gate and the East Gate.”
“Mhm.”
“We’ve got signs everywhere and message boards with maps on them, so it’s hard to get lost. We’ll have to split up once we get to Central Plaza, so take advantage of that if you want to explore.”
“Mm-hm.”
“I work near the walls, so if you need to find me, just follow the main roads. I’m stationed near the East Gate, but sometimes I’ll be at Administration to do some tasks at the Mayor’s Office. Will you be alright on your own?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Primrose gave her a weird look before turning on her heel and halting her steps. They had arrived at a scenic circular plaza, paved with fire-baked bricks and slowly crackling stone. Those roads led around the centerpiece of the plaza, a carefully cultivated garden of flowering bushes and dew-stricken grass, all of which surrounded one of the most majestic sights Gwendolyn had ever seen.
A sight she would later come to know as the Thyrsus Tree.
It was larger than anything she had ever seen, towering above even the roofs of Cassius Town. Its trunk was wide yet twisted, as though it were made up of several trees intertwining with one another. The gaps in between the darkened bark were filled with a glittering blue resin, sparkling with light not of the morning sun. And the filament branches that crowned the tree’s head were spindly and long, reaching out to the sky with translucent white flowers as its fingertips.
The Thyrsus Tree was more glass artwork than it was a living being, but the faintly sweet scent of its flowers spoke volumes of the soul within.
“I’m going to leave now,” Primrose announced, shaking Gwendolyn from her reverie. “Don’t get lost. Don’t hesitate to ask for help. I showed you around the Middle-Class district already, so take in the rest of the sights. Oh, and here.”
A small pouch was handed to her. Its insides were half-full with coins.
“Some Cole if you want to buy anything. It’s enough for a meal and some stationary if that’s what you want.” Primrose adjusted the straps of her spear sheath. “Well… See you.”
The guardian awkwardly waved goodbye, her expression pensive as she headed off to fulfill her duties. Gwendolyn made no note of this, however. Only carefully pulling the drawstrings of her new pouch before gazing upward at the tree that swarmed her mind for attention.
She approached it, her fingers tingling from the warmth as she touched the plaque that was stationed in front of the tree. It read as such:
“The Thyrsus Tree is the ceremonial supplier of mana conductive material in Cassius Town.
Legend states that when the White Tower broke through the world’s crust, the tip of its spire was fractured, and the pieces fell back down to the earth.
Those pieces became known as ‘Seeds of Light’, from which grew greenery never before seen.
The Thyrsus Tree stands as a monument today, for the legend of the Seeds of Light and for the creation of Cassius as it has come to be.”
A story of fiction and reality, interweaving to create a mythos that rests on the plateaus of belief. Gwendolyn had no reason to feel drawn to those tales, to the poetry of seeds falling like stars to bless the planet with its light. But as her eyes traced the indentations, so too, did her heart find its space.
The White Tower. She pressed her fingertips to the groove of that line. From what she had learned, the White Tower was the beating heart of the world; the final frontier of exploration that tied earth and heaven together. That was all she really knew, but for some reason, the knowledge of the White Tower pressed down upon her.
Something in the depths of her spirit shouted into the void.
And somewhere far away… an echo was cast.
Immediately, Gwendolyn flinched and drew her hand back, her hair whipping around as she traced the origin of that echo. Though invisible and non-existent, the call of an answer had appeared, and the delicate remains of her old heart trembled with desperation.
And whether by fate or chance or destiny, her gaze found the siren that cried out to her.
The White Tower.
Gwendolyn stood there in silence, gulping dryly as she drank in her first sight of the never-ending legend. Blue is the color of the sky, people die, and the White Tower stands. Those were the immutable facts of the world, and the basis of her impression about the massive structure. The impossibly large circumference of the tower was paired with an equally unfathomable height, each story standing atop one another like discs carved by giants. No one had ever seen the top of that tower, many unable to even reach the crest that breached the barrier of clouds.
A structure that could not be built by human hands.
A place where the Gods themselves must be residing, because only divine decree could explain the pounding urgency that beat through the hollow of her chest.
Some part of her hesitated, caught in the net of Primrose’s instructions and the daunting fear of the unknown. But a larger, more brash side of her felt that if she did not take the leap now, there was no future where she would ever.
There was no debating after that.
And so Gwendolyn went. Down the road of sun-kissed brick that warmed the soles of scale-covered hooves. Down the path that would take her to her origins, to the Gate that faced the monument.
Down to the White Tower.