Tragedy of Divinity

Chapter 38: The Secrets of the Clock Tower

The clock tower loomed over Loyrn like a sentinel, its sharp spire cutting through the fog that clung to the city like an old, oppressive cloak. Its jagged design made it both a marvel of architecture and a foreboding presence, one that seemed to breathe as the hands ticked forward.

Lucian, Seraphine, and Quintin stood in the shadow of the tower as the city bustled around them, unaware—or unwilling to acknowledge—the murder that had reportedly occurred nearby the previous night. The whispers in the market had been subtle, veiled beneath layers of polite conversation, but Lucian's sharp ears caught fragments that hinted at something grim.

"Two bodies, drained of blood…"

"Near the clock tower again…"

"Shh, you'll attract attention."

Lucian turned to the others, his dark eyes narrowed. "This city's too clean. A murder like that, and there's no guard presence, no panic. They're covering it up."

"Obviously," Seraphine muttered, her expression unreadable. She adjusted the strap of her dagger sheath and looked up at the clock tower, her composure unshaken by the ominous air. "The question is, why? And who?"

Quintin, for once, wasn't grinning. He shifted uneasily, clutching his backpack like a shield. "Do we really have to investigate? I mean, it's not like we're detectives or anything. Can't we just… leave it alone?"

Lucian's scoff was sharp. "You think ignoring it will make it go away? Whatever's happening here isn't going to stop just because we pretend it doesn't exist."

Seraphine nodded, her tone firm. "We need to figure out what's going on before it becomes our problem—or worse, before it's too late."

Quintin sighed, resigned. "Fine. But if I end up as a corpse, I'm haunting both of you."

The Clock Tower..

The base of the clock tower was surprisingly unguarded, save for a wrought-iron gate that had been carelessly left ajar. The trio exchanged glances before stepping inside, their footsteps echoing against the stone walls.

The air was colder here, heavier, and the faint scent of iron lingered. The interior of the tower was dimly lit by flickering lanterns that cast long, distorted shadows across the floor. A spiral staircase wound upward, its steps worn smooth by time.

Lucian moved ahead, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Seraphine followed closely, her dagger in hand, while Quintin trailed behind, clutching a small lantern he had swiped from the entryway.

"This place gives me the creeps," Quintin whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Good," Lucian replied without looking back. "You should be scared. Keeps you sharp."

As they ascended the staircase, the hum of the clock's mechanism grew louder, a rhythmic thrum that vibrated through the walls. It was almost hypnotic, as if the tower itself had a heartbeat.

Halfway up, they came across a small landing where a dark stain marred the stone floor. Lucian crouched to examine it, his expression grim.

"Blood," he said flatly. "Not fresh, but not old either."

Seraphine knelt beside him, her eyes scanning the area. "No sign of a struggle. Whoever it was, they didn't have a chance to fight back."

Quintin stayed a safe distance away, his face pale. "So… what killed them? And where's the body?"

Lucian stood, his gaze fixed on the staircase above them. "We'll find out soon enough."

The Upper Chamber

The staircase ended at a heavy wooden door that groaned in protest as Lucian pushed it open. Beyond it was the clock tower's upper chamber, a cavernous room filled with gears and machinery that clicked and whirred with mechanical precision.

The room was eerily beautiful, the golden light of the setting sun streaming through stained-glass windows that depicted abstract patterns of stars and moons. But the beauty was overshadowed by the scene at the center of the room.

A circle of runes, similar to the ones Lucian had seen in the alleyway, was etched into the stone floor. At its center lay a pile of ash, faintly glowing with an unnatural green hue.

"What the hell is that?" Quintin whispered, his voice trembling.

Seraphine stepped closer, her movements cautious. "Magic," she said, her voice steady. "Powerful magic. And dark."

Lucian circled the runes, his jaw tight. "Someone's been using this place as a ritual site. That's why the bodies are disappearing—they're being… consumed."

"Consumed?" Quintin echoed, his voice rising in pitch. "You mean, like, eaten?"

"Not physically," Seraphine replied, her tone measured. "But their life force, their essence—whatever you want to call it—is being drained and used to power these spells."

Quintin took a step back, his eyes darting to the ash pile. "Okay, I'm officially voting for leaving. Right now."

"We're not leaving," Lucian said sharply. He knelt beside the runes, his fingers tracing the symbols. "These aren't random. They're part of a larger pattern—someone's building something. Or summoning something."

"Summoning?" Seraphine's voice was calm, but her grip on her dagger tightened. "Do you know what?"

Lucian shook his head. "Not yet. But whatever it is, it's bad. And it's not finished."

The Watcher in the Shadows

As they examined the room, none of them noticed the faint rustle of movement in the shadows near the ceiling. A figure cloaked in darkness watched them, its eyes glowing faintly with an unnatural light. It moved silently, its form blending seamlessly with the shadows, its presence a mere whisper against the hum of the clock.

The figure's gaze lingered on Lucian, its expression unreadable. Then, as silently as it had appeared, it vanished into the darkness.

The Escape

Their investigation was cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps echoing up the staircase. Lucian's head snapped toward the door, his hand instantly on his sword.

"Guards," he hissed. "We need to move."

Seraphine glanced at the runes one last time before nodding. "Let's go."

Quintin didn't need to be told twice. He bolted for the door, clutching his lantern like a lifeline.

The trio descended the staircase as quickly and quietly as they could, but the guards were gaining on them. Their voices grew louder, barking orders in a language none of them recognized.

"They know we're here," Seraphine said under her breath.

"Brilliant observation," Lucian muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

As they reached the base of the tower, they found the gate blocked by a group of armed guards. Lucian didn't hesitate—he drew his sword and charged, his movements swift and precise.

Seraphine followed, her dagger flashing in the dim light as she disarmed one of the guards with a single, calculated strike.

Quintin, meanwhile, stayed as far back as possible, muttering, "Why does it always end with fighting?"

The trio managed to break through the guards and disappear into the foggy streets, the shouts of their pursuers fading into the distance.

Back at the Tavern

Safe in the dimly lit confines of the tavern, the trio caught their breath. Lucian leaned against the wall, his sword still drawn, while Seraphine sat at the table, her expression pensive. Quintin, slumped in a chair, looked like he might faint.

"That was too close," Seraphine said, her voice calm but firm.

Lucian sheathed his sword, his gaze dark. "It's going to get worse. Whoever's behind this knows we're onto them now."

"And what do we do about it?" Quintin asked, his voice shaky.

Lucian's expression hardened. "We keep digging. Loyrn's hiding something big, and I'm not leaving until I find out what it is."

Seraphine nodded, her resolve unwavering. "Agreed. This isn't just about the city—it's about the Nexus itself. If we don't stop this, no one will."

Quintin groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Why did I have to team up with the two most reckless people in the Nexus?"

Despite the tension, Seraphine allowed herself a faint smile. "Because, Quintin, you're the only one who can keep us grounded."

Lucian snorted. "Or weigh us down with all that food he carries."

Quintin glared at him, but there was no heat in it. "I swear, one of these days, I'm going to save both of your lives, and you'll regret making fun of me."

Lucian smirked. "I won't hold my breath."

As the trio prepared for their next move, the clock tower continued to hum softly in the distance.