Apophenia (Volume 1)

Chapter 3: Message from The Past

(AN: Is it just me or is each chapter getting shorter? Meh, either way, enjoy.)

The receiving room of the Quillnaught mansion was seldom used these days. Since the passing of their parents, few visitors came calling, and those who did were typically directed to the more comfortable parlor or Sherbet's study. This room, with its formal arrangement and uncomfortable high-backed chairs, was reserved for official business and strangers.

Gloucestershire pushed open the heavy oak door, its hinges protesting with a low creak. Dust motes danced in the shafts of colored light streaming through the stained-glass windows. The room smelled of furniture polish and old books, with an underlying hint of something metallic that reminded her of clockwork.

In the center of the round table sat a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. It was smaller than she had expected — about the size of a large book — but had an unmistakable presence that drew the eye. The seal of the Horological Society, a circle containing five interconnected gears arranged like the petals of a flower, was stamped in red wax where the twine crossed.

Gloucestershire approached cautiously, recalling her sister's warning about wards. She circled the table once, examining the package from all angles before reaching out hesitantly. When her fingers touched the paper, she felt a slight tingling sensation, but nothing more ominous occurred.

The seal broke with a soft crack, releasing a faint scent of cloves and machine oil—Professor Pendleton's signature fragrance. Inside the brown wrapping paper was a polished wooden box, its lid inlaid with mother-of-pearl in a pattern that resembled a complex astronomical chart.

Her heart beating faster, Gloucestershire lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled in black velvet, was an object that made her breath catch in her throat—a pocket watch unlike any she had seen before.

Its case was crafted from a metal she didn't recognize, with a shifting iridescent quality that reminded her of oil on water. Around the edge of the case were engravings of the five moons in their various phases. The face of the watch was visible through a crystal window, revealing not just one set of hands but five, each tracking different measurements and moving at different speeds.

Beside the watch was a sealed letter with her name written in Professor Pendleton's spidery handwriting.
With trembling fingers, Gloucestershire broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

'My dear Gloucestershire,

If you are reading this, then I have met with the fate I have foreseen. Do not mourn me—the laws of chronological inevitability are quite clear on this matter. What must happen, must happen, and we who study the deeper currents of time must accept our place in its flow.

The device I have left you is called a Chronometer of Possibilities. It is the culmination of my life's work and perhaps my greatest achievement. It is also, I fear, what has led to my untimely demise.

In simple terms, it can perceive and measure deviations in the timestream—points where reality frays and alternate possibilities bleed through. The Horological Society believes such instruments to be purely theoretical, but as you can see, theory has become reality.

I entrust it to you because you, my brilliant student, possess both the intellect to understand its workings and the moral compass to use it wisely. More importantly, you are moon-touched and therefore, more resistant to the temporal distortions it may cause to those who handle it.

Three things you must know:
First, the Chronometer responds to intention. Hold it and think clearly about what you wish to observe, and the hands will align accordingly.