It was a place out of this world, one she knew no person could ever walk in flesh and bones. But she did, if in spirit or mind she could not know.
Alissa moved further and further down the landscape, taking in the beauty of her surroundings. The more she approached the center of the white ground, the chillier the air got, and the more goosebumps raised on her skin. Reaching the center of the land, her gaze settled on the weirdest thing she had ever seen.
A clock five times Alissa’s size stood amid the white field. No tower or ropes held the clock perfectly still, yet it floated in the air miraculously, inches above the ground. Its exterior was completely adorned with thick gold, the numerals she could only read from their positions on the rounded frame. The clock hands, shaped like an arrow, moved slowly at first.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
The peaceful pace did not last long as hours suddenly passed in minutes. It started at midnight, moving faster and faster until both pointers reached a state of constant, exasperated movement, the sound ringing by the milliseconds.
Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock
Although Alissa had the impression of time passing by as the huge clock desperately indicated, the sky never changed colors, the wind never shifted sides, and the chilly air that froze her bones didn’t get any warmer. Still, all she heard was the relentless chimes, now so fast her brain couldn’t process the ticking sound anymore.
A woman came out from behind it as Alissa watched the gold pointers move frantically. A woman she recognized from the canyons and from a dream. The silver sparkling hair flowing with the wind, her blue eyes even more impressive under the colorful sky above than she remembered from their last encounter. The first time she had seen this woman, she thought of her as a ghost, but now… now she was an angel.
“You,” Alissa whispered.
“I didn’t figure you as rude when we last met. Why don’t you call me by my name, Alissa?”
Alissa’s cheeks turned red. “I don’t know your name.”
The silver-haired woman shook her head in disapproval. “Looks like you still have work to do.”
“Who are you?” She tried to approach the young woman, but her hands went straight through her again, as if through a mirage.
“That’s your job to find out.”
Alissa frowned. “You are the key, aren’t you?”
The young woman nodded.
“Is my daughter going to die if I don’t find the cure?” Alissa asked in the hopes that Dhalia would be an exception to the rule.
“Senectus Subita has never failed to kill before, Alissa. Not even with me.”
Alissa’s eyes widened. This woman had been a victim of Senectus Subita herself. She needed to find out more about her: who she was, how it all happened, whether she really was a princess as Dhalia had said. But before Alissa could ask anything else, the silver-haired woman interrupted her thoughts.
“The clock is ticking, Alissa.” Her voice faded as she completely vanished from sight.
The clock, however, remained there, ticking faster, aggressively, mocking Alissa. A rough reminder she had no time to waste. Even in the urgency of the moment, she knew: if the clock still ticked, then her time was not over—she could still save her daughter.
The streets of Golheim were always empty this early, and it was liberating to wander through the city’s splendor without the fear of being pursued. In the evenings, they took extra precautions—walking through the building’s shadows, opting for longer routes instead of direct ones, and disguising themselves beyond recognition. But now, when the sun was rising, they could afford to be a bit reckless, taking the main streets to admire the beauty of the city, even though their disguises remained in place.
Alissa still couldn’t shake the dream from her mind. Who could this girl, who stubbornly appeared in her dreams, be? She didn’t know her name, but that seemed crucial. She couldn’t understand how the woman could have been a victim of Senectus when her daughter had referred to her as a princess. All she knew was that the doubt was driving her insane.
Alissa’s face was mostly covered by the handkerchief of her uniform as they walked to the library, but it did not stop Eldric from catching the affliction behind her eyes.
He halted, gently taking her hand in his. “Is something wrong?”
Her eyebrows shot up; the realization of how well this man had come to know her after only a few months of acquaintance hit her. She cleared her throat, setting the fabric that covered her face down as she spoke. “How reliable do you think a dream can be as a source of information?”
“Not at all reliable,” Eldric said.