Machinae mundi

xv. the contract (pt. i) [20k]

MORI GLANCED AROUND, BREATH GHOSTING IN FRONT OF HIS FACE.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting on to see on Elete, but surely this wasn't it. Suddenly, Junot's reaction made sense. She'd thought they were lying, about visiting Elete, because the world no longer existed. But how had she known about Arkos, so soon?

Mori shivered, his thoughts returning once again to Arkos, to the tower fragmenting. This was all that would be left of it now — this fractured, desolate world. No light, no land, just the crumbling tower and heavy, choking darkness.

"I thought it was just Arkos," Mori whispered. "It's happened here, too?"

"Apparently." Argent scanned the scene below him, a hard glint in his eyes. "We should get back."

He took out the traveller's timepiece. But before they could do anything, what was left of the platform. Mori tried to grab at the timepiece, but it slipped away from his grasp. Mori tumbled after it, down into the thick shadows below them. The darkness slid away to let him through. He heard disembodied voices whispering at his air, fingers in his hair, on his skin—

He landed on his back with a grunt. On what, exactly, he couldn't say. The ground beneath was soft but sturdy, giving way gently under his feet as he stood. Mori rubbed his head and looked around, but everything around him was just pitch black nothing.

"Well, well. Hello, Mori." A voice rumbled through the darkness. Light and playful and laced with danger. "It's wonderful to finally meet you."

Mori swung round, but only rippling shadow greeted him. "How do you know who I am?"

The air around him rumbled. Mori supposed it must be laughter.

"What a trivial question," the voice said. "I know all the clockmakers, as I would my own flesh and blood." Something touched his chest and dug in, pricking his skin. "The rites you took with Ren are a contract. Your power binds you to me." A breeze fluttered over his shoulders. A cold breath chilled his ear. "In a sense, we are one."

Mori shrank away. "Who are you?"

"Ah, I am known by many names." The presence receded. "But most simply know me as the space I inhabit — the void."

"The void?"

"This space is my power. And everything within it —" Icy fingers snaked around Mori's throat — "belongs to me."

Mori swallowed. Dread seeped out from the touch at his neck, chilling his skin like freezing water. He recognised the feeling – the frantic panic from his nightmares, the dread at the pit of his soul. He thrashed, but the grip merely tightened. The thick air piled into his throat, and suddenly he couldn't breathe—

After a moment, the pressure on his throat fell away. Mori staggered away, coughing. The void laughed again, a grim chuckle that echoed in his chest long after the noise had stopped.

"I suppose I should be more hospitable. It has been a long time since I have had a visitor."

Some of the shadow drew away. Mori could just about make out a figure, floating just ahead of him. Mori stumbled forward. It was a young woman, hovering on her back in mid-air, unconscious.

Mori couldn't help but stare. She was oddly beautiful, delicate tan skin smoothed by slumber. Copper-brown hair curled around her face, dying rose petals wilting amongst her curls.

"What happened to her?"

"Consider it a cautionary tale of sorts. This is what becomes of those who search for knowledge beyond their limits." The void sighed, then focused its attention back on Mori. "You will join her soon enough. You and that...other one you brought." A pause; the void appeared to be considering something. "Bashko?" It harrumphed. "Perhaps not. No matter. Both of you have sealed your fate."