She sat for a long while, thinking... "there has to be a solution to this dilemma".
The more she contemplated the question of what to do about the corrosion, the more she realized she had to go to the one place that may have that which escaped her reasoning, the answer.
It was there, in the Temple of the Word, a place she had never seen for herself, she felt certain the truth could be found. The temple was the arc where knowledge was contained, safe from the prying eyes of the common people. The Word was the one remaining book on the planet, all other forms of written word had been destroyed centuries before in the Great Reformation. And years later, after the corrosion had taken hold and had destroyed all other forms of electronic data, the Word was all that was left that held any reference to the Elder Days.
She, without thought, made her way down the spiral stairway to the street below. The view before her was dismal. Cracked, ruined loudspeakers and immense LCD screens hung above, reminders of a time passed by when everything citizens heard and believed came from those now silent relics ... long dead and voiceless, now just rusted icons of a world as it once was. That world had denounced all individual thought and persecuted those who dared brake the ever increasingly strict laws and statutes. The people had been fed daily, hourly doses of brainwashing by the ruling class until they finally believed everything they heard and complied unquestioningly.
She had made her way along several blocks of broken concrete sidewalk to the steps that led up to the Temple of the Word. She passed a few people who dared brave these plutonian streets without notice. To her they may have just as well been statues, unmoving...so slowly their time clicked by. It was only she, and those who had been blessed with true knowledge, who moved in "true time". And even though the complete understanding was denied to the Timekeepers, they were given enough of the Word to enable them to keep up with their duties at the Clocktower. Now she stood, gazing up at the towering structure, in great wonder. "Not a trace of corrosion" she thought to herself, "how very remarkable".
The sentry came foreward, arm upraised in an attempt to halt the timekeepers' advance. With a single gesture of her staff, the timekeeper stopped the guard, who stiffened as if frozen in place. ( Even though she did not control time, her staff could suspend it for individuals indefinitely.)
Slipping past the woman, she cautiously opened the door and slipped into the Temple.
Once inside she made her way along pristine, polished marble floors, completely in awe at the condition of the place. The rough hewn stone walls towered high above her and everywhere she looked hung fine drapery and linen cloths covered in arcane designs and symbols.
The timekeeper knew she wasn't alone in the temple. The Guardian of the Word would surely be somewhere lurking, watching her progress towards her goal. Unfortunately, she had no idea of where that goal was to be found... so many doors to open. Yet, instinctively, she knew the One Door would be distinct. Perhaps even look like the portal that stood at the end of this very hallway, the one with the adorned, golden symbols etched into it's frame.
Above, the Guardian of the Word watched... her eyes narrowed to the tiniest of slits, a soft almost moaning sound issued from her lips as the timekeeper twisted the handle of the door and silently crept inside...
to be continued:
Production CreditsDanie - DM's Outpost Tower
marforno - DM's Outpost Tower
shadownet - Rilaun
StudioArtVartanian - Kouros hair
Aug 15, 2012 1:09:01 amby brewgirlca Online Now! Homepage »
For some reason I really like the use of just a textured background and I love the uniform color pallette that you have used. There is an earthy sensuality to this work - a harmony in the symphony.
The Great Reformation brings forth "memories" of the burning of the library at Alexandria. Probably one of the greatest crimes against humanity ever committed.