Sempiternity (COMPLETED)

XIV

The clock tower was, without a doubt, the tallest structure for miles in the Thousand Eternal City. Constructed of the same drab dark-gray stone as every other building in the City, the only details of the tower that made it stand out besides its height were the sensations of life that still protruded from the tower’s walls. 

None of the clocks on the exterior of the tower worked. 

Three of the sides had clocks that were simple and elegant; plain white background, numerals from a forgotten age dictating the time of the day with hands that should be moving with clockwork; nothing out of the ordinary. But facing Arend, who walked towards the tower with the Ark falling towards him, was a clock unlike the others. It was much larger, for instance, and had a black background with golden time numerals. Above the original black clock was a much smaller one that projected from a large black needle in the center of the background clock, and this second layer was in a perfect circle with no letters or numerals written on it. The only things gracing this second clock were small scratches – billions and billions of small scratches that, from a distance, created what appeared to be a black coloring on the clock that was actually purely white. Besides the scratches, only a large, unnatural crack graced both of the clocks.

In a flash of lightning, the sky momentarily lost its red hue and cloudy mask – the Ark was shaded completely dark, as if it caught no light; all the planets, scattered about the sky became visible; the moon and the Sun vanished; a handful of dust wafted past Arend’s face. In an instant, the flash was gone, and Arend arrived at the doors to the clock tower.

Frigid winds blew past the boy, but he did not feel them, nor did Klaytaza. Not anymore.

The door to the tower opened, then flickered and disappeared from existence. No input was necessary here. Not anymore. 

Arend walked inside, followed as silently as ever by Klaytaza. In front of the two was a room of pure darkness. Its area was immeasurable, for its boundaries were invisible; a dim light shone only on a spiral staircase some distance in front of them, one that climbed into the tall depths of the tower with a substance of twisted, vain, and ancient metal. Arend began to climb them.

After the two had walked up the steps shrouded in darkness for some time, light suddenly began to shine from above and to the side of them. What began as little beads of light soon evolved into rivers of light, flowing and rushing outside of their reach as they climbed the stairs. Upon closer inspection, Arend realized that these light beams were actually free-standing streams of water, flowing and rushing organically down the dark chasm of the tower. The waters, separated by the stairs and composed of only clean and pure molecules, made no noise as it cut through the darkness. Arend and Klaytaza continued to ascend.

Soon these waters began to illuminate the chasm around them. Slowly but surely, the two of them could see around them, with the amount of darkness lowering proportionally with the height they climbed on the stairs. At first, only dark clouds were visible near the bottom of the chasm, where they had started to climb. Still below them, layer upon layer of cold steel began to appear above the clouds. These layers of architecture soon overlapped so well that no sky was visible beneath them. The layers all differed slightly, but had similar themes of minimalism and untouched quality.

Even higher up, these layers of steel began to fade in color until they eventually turned pitch black. The darkness was so strong that it appeared to completely overtake the lightness below, once again taking over the visual aesthetics of the previous atmosphere. From these equally minimalistic dark layers, tall columns of twisted steel arose, some of which bent into cross shapes in the top of their heights. As Arend and Klaytaza rose, so too did the heights of the metal stalks. Soon, with the shining of the light onto these scarecrows of industry, it became clear that roses – colored both red and violet – grew and tangled around these steel saplings.