The Clockwork Prophecy

The Clockwork Prophecy

Bonds of Clockwork and Blood

Copyright © 2024 by Blaze Drake.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

First Edition : March 2024

Content

Chapter 1 : The Discovery

Chapter 2 : The Awakening

Chapter 3 : The Hunted

Chapter 4 : The Assassin

Chapter 5 : The Resistance

Chapter 6 : The Revelation

Chapter 7 : The Betrayal

Chapter 8 : The Clockwork City

Chapter 9 : The Inventor

Chapter 10 : The Spy

Chapter 11 : The Escape

Chapter 12 : The Scholar

Chapter 13 : The Sentinel

Chapter 14 : The Confrontation

Chapter 15 : The Sacrifice

Chapter 16 : The Revelation

Chapter 17 : The Betrayal

Chapter 18 : The Final Piece

Chapter 19 : The Clockwork War

Chapter 20 : The Choice

Chapter 1 : The Discovery

The gentle ticking of clockwork filled Aria Winfield's workshop as she hunched over her workbench, focused on the delicate music box before her. She carefully manipulated the final brass cog into place with her tweezers, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.

There we go, she murmured, sitting back and admiring her handiwork. Another perfect creation.

Aria reached for the key and wound the music box, watching as the miniature figurine twirled gracefully to the soft, tinkling melody. Pride swelled in her chest. No matter how many clockwork devices she crafted, the joy of completing a project never faded.

A sudden, sharp knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts. Aria? her father's muffled voice called. Are you in there?

With a sigh, Aria set down her tools and pushed away from the bench. Yes, Father. Come in.

The door swung open, and Ezra Winfield stepped into the workshop, his kind eyes immediately drawn to the music box. Ah, another masterpiece, I see, he said, smiling warmly. Your talent never ceases to amaze me, my dear.

Aria ducked her head, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks. It's nothing special, she mumbled. Just putting my skills to use.

Ezra shook his head, approaching the workbench. Don't sell yourself short, Aria. You have a genuine gift. His expression sobered as he met her gaze. But I'm afraid I come bearing troubling news.

A flicker of unease twisted in Aria's gut. What is it?

Her father hesitated, as if weighing his words. The technocracy has increased their presence in the city, he said gravely. More patrols, more searches. They're looking for something, but I don't know what.

Aria's heart sank. The oppressive technocracy, with their strict control over clockwork technology, was a constant threat to independent inventors like her and her father. Those who dared to create without their approval often faced severe consequences.

What do you think they're after? she asked, trying to keep the worry from her voice.

Ezra sighed heavily, running a hand through his graying hair. I wish I knew. But we must be cautious, Aria. Promise me you'll stay close to home and avoid drawing attention to yourself.

Frustration bubbled up inside her. She was tired of living in fear, of hiding her talents. But the pleading look in her father's eyes made her bite back her protest. I promise, she said instead, forcing a smile.

Relief washed over Ezra's face. He squeezed her shoulder gently. Good. I have to go meet with a client, but I'll be back before nightfall. Stay safe, my dear.

As soon as he was gone, Aria's curiosity got the better of her. She glanced around the workshop, her gaze landing on the old, dusty trunk in the corner. It held countless clockwork parts and devices her father had collected over the years.

An idea sparked in her mind. Aria crossed the room and kneeled before the trunk, rummaging through the jumble of cogs, springs, and gears. Her fingers brushed against something unfamiliar, and she frowned, pulling out a small, intricately carved wooden box.

Strange symbols adorned its surface, seeming to hum with energy as Aria traced them. With trembling hands, she lifted the lid, revealing a complex clockwork device nestled inside.

The moment Aria's fingers touched the cool metal, her world exploded in a kaleidoscope of light and sound. Visions assaulted her mind—turning gears, burning cities, a shadowy figure rising from the ashes. An ancient, powerful voice echoed in her ears:

"When the gears of fate align,

The Clockwork Savior shall arise.

With the power to control the very time,

The world's future in their hands will lie."

Gasping, Aria jerked her hand back, the device clattering to the floor. She stared at it, chest heaving, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The clockwork mechanism pulsed with an eerie light, as if alive.

What are you? Aria whispered, both frightened and enchanted.

She knew, deep in her bones, that this was no ordinary device. It held secrets, a prophecy that somehow connected to her. Aria's mind raced with questions. Who was the Clockwork Savior? What did it all mean?

Determined to unravel the mystery, she carefully placed the device back in its box and tucked it into her apron pocket. She would study it further, decode its hidden messages. But first, she needed to keep it safe from prying eyes.

Just as Aria closed the trunk, a thunderous pounding shook the workshop door. She froze, heart leaping into her throat.

Open up! a harsh voice commanded. By order of the technocracy!

Panic seized Aria. She hastily smoothed her hair and wiped her sweaty palms on her apron before hurrying to the door. With a deep breath, she pulled it open, finding herself face-to-face with two technocracy soldiers.

The taller of the two, a grizzled man with a jagged scar cutting across his cheek, stepped forward. Aria Winfield? he barked, his steely eyes boring into hers.

Y-Yes, Aria stammered, fighting to keep her voice steady. How may I help you?

The soldier pushed past her, his partner following close behind. We have orders to search the premises, he said brusquely, already sweeping his gaze over the workshop. For illegal clockwork devices.

Aria's stomach dropped. She forced a smile, hoping it didn't look as brittle as it felt. I assure you, everything here is perfectly legal, she said, gesturing around the room. My father and I hold licenses as clockmakers.

The scarred soldier narrowed his eyes. We'll be the judge of that. He nodded to his partner. Search everything. Leave no gear unturned.

As the soldiers tore through her workshop, Aria fought the urge to fidget. She silently prayed they wouldn't find the wooden box hidden in her pocket. If they discovered the strange device and its cryptic prophecy...

Minutes crawled by, each second an eternity. Finally, the soldiers finished their search, empty-handed. The scarred man turned to Aria, frustration etched into his features.

Looks clean, he grunted. But don't think you're off the hook. The technocracy is watching. One wrong move, and we'll be back.

With that chilling warning, the soldiers stalked out, slamming the door behind them. Aria sagged against the workbench, knees weak with relief.

But even as the immediate danger passed, she knew her troubles were only beginning. The discovery of the clockwork device had set something in motion, something she couldn't yet fathom.

Aria pulled the box from her pocket, staring at the pulsing light within. At that moment, she decided. No matter the risk, no matter the cost, she would uncover the truth behind the Clockwork Prophecy. Even if it meant defying the technocracy and everything she'd ever known.

Four deep down, in a place she'd never dared to explore, Aria had always yearned for something more. A purpose, a destiny beyond the confines of her quiet life. And now, with the weight of the prophecy in her hands, she knew she could no longer ignore the call.

Squaring her shoulders, Aria tucked the box away and turned to face the workshop, her sanctuary. It was time to delve into the heart of the mystery, to unravel the secrets that had been hidden for so long.

As she picked up her tools, a flicker of excitement mingled with the fear in her heart. The gears of fate were turning, and Aria Winfield was ready to meet her destiny head-on.

Chapter 2 : The Awakening

Aria's mind raced as she paced the length of her workshop, the wooden box containing the mysterious device clutched tightly in her hands. The cryptic prophecy echoed in her thoughts, a puzzle begging to be solved.

The Clockwork Savior, she murmured, tracing the intricate symbols on the box's surface. What does it mean?

A sudden knock at the door made her jump, nearly dropping the box. Aria quickly tucked it into her apron pocket and hurried to answer, her heart pounding.

To her relief, it was only her father, Ezra, looking weary but unharmed. He stepped inside, his brow furrowed with concern.

Aria, he said, his voice low and urgent. I heard about the soldiers' visit. Are you all right?

She nodded, trying to calm her frayed nerves. I'm fine, Father. They found nothing.

Ezra's shoulders sagged with relief, but the worry didn't leave his eyes. This is becoming too dangerous, he said, running a hand through his hair. The technocracy's grip is tightening. We must be more careful than ever.

Aria bit her lip, the weight of the device heavy in her pocket. She longed to tell her father about her discovery, to share the burden of the prophecy. But something held her back, a whisper of caution in her mind.

Father, she began hesitantly, have you ever heard of the Clockwork Savior?

Ezra's head snapped up, his eyes widening. Where did you hear that name? he demanded sharply.

Aria flinched at his tone, taken aback. I... I found something, she admitted, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the wooden box. A device with a strange prophecy. It spoke of the Clockwork Savior.

Her father's face paled as he stared at the box, a mix of fear and recognition in his eyes. Aria, he said hoarsely, you must forget you ever saw that. Put it back where you found it and never speak of it again.

But why? Aria pressed, frustration rising in her chest. What is this prophecy? What does it mean?

Ezra shook his head vehemently. It means nothing but trouble, he said firmly. The Clockwork Savior is a dangerous myth, a legend that has brought ruin to those who sought its power.

Aria's mind reeled, trying to make sense of her father's words. But the device, she argued, it showed me visions, spoke of a destiny. I can't just ignore it!

You must, Ezra insisted, his voice rising. For your own safety, Aria. The technocracy has been seeking the Clockwork Savior for years, destroying lives in their pursuit. If they learn you have this knowledge, they will stop at nothing to possess it.

A chill ran down Aria's spine at the intensity in her father's gaze. She had never seen him so frightened, so adamant. But the pull of the prophecy was too strong, the need for answers too great.

I can't live in fear forever, Father, she whispered, meeting his eyes. "This prophecy, this device... it's connected to me somehow. I can feel it.