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墨書 Inktalez
Lily's fingertips trembled on the yellowed parchment, the musty scent of the sheepskin mingling with the aroma of cedar ink wafting into her nostrils. Moonlight streamed through the attic skylight, casting an eerie glow on the seal at the end of the letter—an hourglass entwined with thorns, its fine sand shimmering with a ghostly blue light within the glass.
"In the sixteenth century, during the plague..." Arthur's deep voice resonated clearly in the silence. His long fingers traced the blurred characters on the letter. "Seven alchemical families built a barrier here, offering memories as sacrifices in exchange for eternal peace."
The old Pine Floor of the attic suddenly creaked under their weight, startling Lily into knocking over a brass candlestick. As wax dripped and coiled like a snake across the floor, Arthur abruptly grasped her wrist. His palm was damp and cold. "Look at this part—on a full moon night, standing beneath the iris window on the Top Level of the clock tower, you can hear the memories of the dead flowing between the bronze gears."
The silver chain around Lily's wrist suddenly tightened, its dangling amethyst pointing toward the town square. They made their way to the west side of the clock tower, guided by the chimes of midnight. The ivy crawling up the stone walls glimmered a deep iron hue in the moonlight, and Lily's skirt became heavy with dew.
Arthur suddenly pressed her hand down as she was about to push open a window. "Wait, the third brick." His fingertip brushed over the damp mortar, revealing half an etched Hexagram beneath a layer of moss.
As the hidden door slid open, a wave of aged incense mixed with the decaying scent of sheepskin paper rushed out to greet them. The copper handrail of the spiral staircase was thick with green rust. Just as Lily's ankle boots touched the first step, a thunderous grinding noise erupted from within the clock tower as gears meshed together.
When Arthur pulled her into his embrace, indigo sparks erupted from above where a mechanical bell loomed. The sight in the attic library took their breath away simultaneously. Floating fireflies pieced together a Star Map in midair; twenty-seven intricately carved oak bookshelves formed concentric circles around an altar at their center, where a gilded tome lay bound by chains.
Suddenly, Lily's silver chain emitted a buzzing sound; the crystal pendant cracked open with a sharp snap, revealing half a bronze key inside. "Seven Families, Seven Keys." Arthur's voice tightened as he retrieved his ever-present pocket watch from around his neck.
Lily watched him twist open the back of the watch; another half key of identical design glowed ominously with a blood-red sheen. At that moment when both fragments aligned perfectly in the lock, gilded chains sprang to life, wrapping around their wrists.
The diary opened on its own amidst crimson mist, and purple ink began to seep through its pages: "In Frost Month of 1693, on the eve of the seventh memory harvest, the youngest daughter of the William Family discovered the truth..."
Lily's pupil suddenly constricted as she gazed at the yellowed illustration. Beneath the cloak of the Night Watchman, a sleeve embroidered with purple irises peeked out—identical to the pattern on the handkerchief her mother had clutched in her final moments.
Arthur's breath brushed against her ear. "Look at the last sealed chapter."
Words formed from Blood Mist twisted in the air: "The Night Watchman must spill the blood of the Seven Clans whenever the new moon rises..."
A sudden, thunderous clatter of gears echoed from outside the attic. As Lily turned, she caught sight of a Crow Mask swaying outside the vent; the silver hair of the figure glimmered in the moonlight, mirroring her own pearl-gray locks.
"That night at my mother's funeral..."
Lily's nails dug into her palm.
"I saw this mask flash by the Lying Coffin."
Arthur abruptly shoved a torn page of a diary into her collar, the cold paper sliding against her skin. "Seven Days until the new moon; we need..."
His words were cut off by the sound of gears crashing through a broken window. A clockwork Copper Sparrow swooped in, clutching half a yellowed piece of paper.
As Lily caught it, blood droplets began to seep from the map on the paper, forming the outline of the Catacombs of the Church under the moonlight. The silver-bell laughter of the Night Watchman surged from all directions, mingling with the clinking of chains around Arthur's wrist, creating an eerie resonance that echoed through the bell tower's dome.
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