Dawn had long broken. Sunlight stretched across the village, bathing the worn cottages in a golden hue. Edward sat quietly in front of his house, eyes scanning the landscape. It had been five hours since Elias had left with Hedric and his men.
At first, Edward had wanted to follow—but both his wife and the village needed him. And Hedric wasn't a man to underestimate. A high-tier Second Circle mage, nearly reaching the Third… Elias would be safer with him than with anyone else.
The village was eerily silent. Survivors worked in grim coordination—burying the dead, repairing homes, tending to the wounded. Clara was still unconscious. The healer had arrived earlier to check on her condition.
Suddenly, the door creaked open.
Edward stood immediately, voice trembling with urgency. "Madam Shelly! How is she? Will Clara be alright? And the child?"
"Calm yourself, Edward," the old healer said, raising a hand to still him. Then, after a beat, she began to speak. "Clara's going to be fine. The wound on her neck was shallow. And the child is unharmed but…" Her expression faltered.
"But what?" Edward's voice cracked, fear creeping in.
Madam Shelly's face darkened. "Her mind... it's strange. I sensed unusual patterns, shapes I can't explain…"
She looked as confused as Edward felt.
Then—movement inside. A soft groan.
Edward rushed into the house. Clara had stirred, her hand to her forehead. "Ah, Ed… my head is pounding…"
Edward's heart clenched.
When Clara saw the sorrow on his face, she frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?"
Tears streamed down Edward's cheeks. He fell to his knees beside the bed and took her hand. Voice breaking, he whispered, "Clara… I… I lost him…"
Clara gently placed her other hand on his head, concern flickering in her eyes. "Lost who, Ed? What are you talking about?"
"Elias," he sobbed.
"…Edward?" Clara's voice was cautious now. Her hand fell away from his head. When Edward lifted his tearful gaze, she looked at him with confusion.
"Elias? Is that a friend of yours?"
Edward froze.
"Clara… Elias is our son."
She blinked. Then slowly shook her head, tears filling her own eyes. "No, Ed. Please don't do this to yourself. We never had a child. You know that…"
Edward turned, stunned, toward Madam Shelly—still standing by the door.
"I'm afraid…" she began hesitantly, "...something has happened. Her memory might be gone. Or perhaps… erased. Specifically, anything related to that boy."
Edward's thoughts raced. Lightning struck through his mind.
The memory—Elias touching Clara's forehead.
The man from his dream. The one who seemed to control dreams and clearly knew Elias.
Could Elias have…?
Who are you, boy? What are you? A fallen angel? A devil hiding among men? Or something worse...?
Edward's jaw clenched. His gaze drifted to the sky outside the window.
No matter what you are… I'll find you, son.
---
Far away, in a place unknown, Elias awoke in a dim room.
Dozens of clocks surrounded him—each one showing a different time. The ticking echoed endlessly.
Elias sat up, blinking. "Where… am I?" He glanced around. "Is anyone there? Hello?"
No response.
Then memories hit him like a storm.
I… I think I died. Damn it… what was that? Was that really… me?
I remember crying, falling to the ground after Mother left… and then—nothing. I lost control. That wasn't me! I didn't kill those people! I didn't say those things! I could see everything, but I couldn't stop it—hngh…
Tears fell down his face.
"Are you really going to just sit there and cry like a child?" came a voice.
Elias jolted upright. He looked around—but saw no one. Just rows of clocks, all ticking.
"Who said that?!" he called out, eyes darting. "Show yourself!"
"We're right in front of you," said the voice, now coming from his right.
He turned—and found himself staring at a wall clock. It had a black frame, a photo of a castle within, and the word Perseverance written in gold letters beneath it.
"Yes," said the clock. "I spoke."
"Aaaah!" Elias screamed, scrambling backward—until he collided with another clock behind him.
This one had a crimson frame. Inside was an image of severed heads on spikes. The label beneath it read Cruelty.
"My, what a sweet little child. Let's eat him," it whispered.
Terrified, Elias jumped up and ran. But no matter how fast he ran toward the end of the room, the last clock always remained just out of reach.
Or maybe… he wasn't moving at all.
One green-framed clock caught his eye. Inside was a warm photo of a family, smiling together. Beneath it: Compassion.
"Aww, sweetheart," said the clock, its voice gentle. "Did they scare you?"
Elias froze, looking around. Each clock had a label. Each one showed an emotion—or something like one.
Rage. Hatred. Envy. Greed.
But others were warm:
Love. Devotion. Loyalty. Kindness.
Thirty clocks in total.
Some, like Compassion, comforted him.
Others, like Cruelty, terrified him.
The largest of them all gleamed in gold. At its center, a majestic crown. Its label read: Leadership.
Elias stepped toward it. "Strange… all of them are emotions, but you—" He paused, staring at the golden clock. "Why do you have a quality instead of a feeling?"
"Because leadership requires mastering all emotions and never letting them control you," the voice echoed from the largest clock.
Elias tried to speak, but the great clock cut him off and continued: "But you let your emotions take over. First your anger, then your disappointment, then your love, and finally the cruelty born from hatred."
"Yes, controlling it was easy," replied the clock named Cruelty.
"I... I just wanted to save my mother," Elias said, his voice breaking.
"Oh, look how sad he is," spoke again the clock called Mercy. "Hey, cruel fool, enough talk."
"Wait—are you my emotions?" Elias interrupted. "Then why do you look like this?"
The golden clock named Leadership began to speak: "Yes, we are your emotions. But emotions rarely take physical form. Only those with great power..." Before finishing, the clock's hands shifted as if revealing a face, staring at the young boy. "But Elias, you are very powerful. The reason we appear so grand is because, when the time comes, you will be the one to shape destiny, little one."
"Until then, grow stronger, and never let your emotions control you again. Otherwise, you will lose those you love."
Elias was stunned. "But why me?"
"Don't ask me that. When the time comes, you will find the answer yourself."
"Now go, and begin to grow. Strengthen both your skills and your control over your emotions."
Then, Elias's body suddenly began to crumble into dust. "Hey, what's happening to my body? Why—?" His voice faded, and he vanished.
From the shadows, a pitch-black silhouette with glowing red eyes appeared and addressed the golden clock: "Thank you, old friend. You've taught him a good lesson. I hope he never forgets your words."
The golden clock repeated the phrase, "I hope so...."