The Mythmaker's Notebook

I recently went back through my old short stories from a couple years ago (I’m waiting on beta readers to get back to me on my debut novel), and realized there were many grammatical errors, spelling mistakes, and sentences that just didn’t make sense. I’ve gone through and cleaned it up, and I really hope you enjoy it!

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The city of Mechanica was a masterwork of precision, constantly filled with the rhythm and cadence of turning gears. Lofty spires composed of brass and steel rose into a sky filled with low-hanging clouds, the exteriors animated by rotating cogs and the whistle of steam vents. Streets of cobblestone curved through the districts below, where everything was powered by clockwork mechanisms.

Finn had always considered Mechanica to be a living being. Every morning when the sunlight first broke through the clouds, he could hear the city stretching and yawning, ready to begin the day. Automaton street sweeps drove through the city, polishing the cobblestone roads. The city’s merchants cranked their mechanical awnings into place, and the great clock of the Citadel tolled the start of the workday. The city operated in perfect order, as if it was directed by an invisible hand.

The invisible hand belonged to Master Elenor. Finn had been Elenor’s apprentice for nearly three years. The Timekeeper’s Workshop, while a popular spot for visitors, was hidden in the corner of the citadel square. Spare gears, old, worn-down tools, and random blueprints littered both the floor and the poorly organized shelves within the workshop. Hidden amongst the many moving parts, Master Elenor worked her magic, silently keeping the balance that kept the entire city moving. The workshop was as chaotic as the city was precise.

Finn sometimes wondered when Elenor found time to sleep. She was always at the workshop, her pale fingers covered in oil, studying some schematic. When his parents had died, Elenor was the only person who would consistently help him when she saw him on the streets. After a while, she invited him into the clock tower. She was not an unkind woman, but her words were short, and she had a very brisk manner. Finn was happy to work with her, but the rigidity of the role sometimes worked against his natural curiosity. Today was no exception.

“Finn, hand me that wrench,” Elenor said, her eyes focused on her task.

He handed over the wrench and asked, “What does this model do?”

Elenor tightened a bolt on the back of the miniature clock model in front of her. It was no typical model, though, as this was an entire map of Mechanica. With all its towers and gears represented in perfect detail, the model’s tick-tock paralleled the city’s cadence. Elenor glanced at him. “You’ve asked that question at least once a week for the last three years. My answer has not changed.”

“It keeps the city running,” he recited and rolled his eyes. “I can tell there is something different about this one, though. I think three years is long enough to know you can trust me.”

Elenor set down her wrench and glared at him. “It does what it needs to do, and you know what you need to know. Some answers come with a weight you are not ready to carry. Drop it. Now.”

Finn held back a witty remark that came to his mind. He had learned long ago that pressing Elenor would not get him what he wanted. She did not support his curiosity. Finn turned to view the pendulum, anchored in the center of the workshop, swinging in harmony with the great clock. He could not shake the thought that there was more to this whole thing than just gears and clock faces.

This thought was interrupted by a sound so loud that it reverberated through the walls. The clang was followed by the pendulum he was looking at freezing mid-swing. A loud groan filled the workshop. Outside, the bells of the Citadel Clock rang erratically. All of the steady rhythms were descending into chaos.

Elenor stood in a panic. “Stay here,” she ordered.

Finn was going to argue, but she was out the door faster than he could open his mouth. Instead, he stood frozen for a moment, listening to the turmoil occurring outside. Mechanica’s normally orderly streets were now filled with panicked shouts and the screech of malfunctioning automatons. He looked at the model on the table that Elenor had just been working on. The tiny pendulum in the heart had stopped moving. Finn had never seen that before.

Finn thought for a moment, then grabbed his tool belt and followed Elenor into the city.

————————————————————————

The moment Finn stepped outside, the wave of discord hit him, making his head spin. Automaton sweepers and package-delivery bots spun in circles, confused. Merchants were shouting over the screeching of malfunctioning gears, as the clock tower’s massive hands had frozen at eleven o’clock. The crowd around it was abuzz with panic, their lives thrown into complete disarray. Finn spotted Elenor at the base of the tower, giving instructions to some of the city’s top engineers.

As he wound his way through the nervous crowd, he caught snippets of the words coming out of her mouth. Words like seized gears and temporal fracture made his heart beat faster. “Finn!” Her angry voice cut through the noise as soon as she spotted him. “I told you to stay in the workshop.”

He finally approached her as the crowd parted for him. “I couldn’t just sit there,” he tried to sound braver than he felt. “What is going on?”

Elenor considered for a moment, then sighed, brushed her oil-staind hands on her coat, and stepped down from the base of the clock tower. “Come here,” she said, and led him back toward the workshop.

As the bell on the door rang to signal it had closed behind them, Elenor whirled around to look directly at him. “I don’t know if you’re ready for this, but we don’t have any more time. The Citadel Clock is more than a timepiece.” She lowered her voice, glanced around, and continued, “It’s the heart of the city’s synchronization. When it stops, everything fails. If we don’t fix it, and quickly, all of Mechanica could fall apart.

Finn stared at her, eyes wide. “What does that mean?”

Right on queue, a high-pitched screech pierced the air, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Finn turned just in time to see one of the smaller clock towers in the distance collapse. The ground beneath them rippled, as if the city itself were shuddering in pain.

Elenor ran to the back wall of the workshop, grabbed her toolbox, came back toward Finn and said, “Come on.” They went back to the Citadel Clock tower. Inside, the clock’s inner workings were a disaster of twisted gears and leaking pipes. There was an unnatural buzz in the air that made the hair on Finn’s arms stand up. Ignoring the chaos, Elenor went straight for a locked cabinet on the far side of the room. She pulled a brass key from her toolbox and opened the cabinet, revealing an object Finn had never seen before. It was a gear, about the size of his palm, but its edges shined with a green light. It also seemed to hum softly, as if it were alive.

Elenor walked over to him, holding it up. “This is the heart of Chronos.” she said, her voice charged with a mixture of reverence and fear. “This is the core of the Citadel Clock, the most important item when it comes to holding the timelines together. These clocks don’t just measure time; they bind it.”

Finn’s mind reeled. He had always known there was more to them than he knew, but he would never have thought it was this. “What is causing them to fail?”

“Mechanica exists on an extremely delicate thread, and the Heart of Chronos is what keeps that thread intact. It is very unstable. The heart was never meant to function forever.”

Finn took a deep breath, processing the infodump he just experienced. “Okay, how do we fix it?”

Elenor placed the clock back into the cabinet. “We don’t really fix it. We just need to reset it.” She turned to him, smiled nervously, and said, “You’re going to have to do it.”

————————————————————————

Finn blinked at her, shocked. “Why me?”

“I can’t leave this tower,” she replied. “If the Citadel clock falls apart, the rest of the city will fail, and we will all be gone. I am going to try to hold this together while you work.” She handed him a small, brass device with a glass cover. The intricate dials and tiny levers shared the same glow as the Heart of Chronos. “This is a time compass. Go where it leads you; it will guide you to the temporal fragments. You will have to gather the pieces of the timeline and return them here to stabilize the Heart.”

Finn stared at the device. “Okay, but how do -?”

“You’ll figure it out. Trust your instincts,” she said as she flipped one of the small levers on the compass.

Before Finn could ask any questions, the world around him blurred as the compass pulsed in his hands. He felt a tugging sensation, as if he were being pulled apart and reassembled at the same time. After a moment, the sensation stopped, and Finn opened his eyes to find himself standing in a completely different version of Mechanica.

The city was overgrown with vines and moss. The clock towers around were silent, having crumbled to the ground. The streets were quiet, except for the rustling of leaves and the song of nearby birds. The compass buzzed in Finn’s hand. He looked down and watched the needle spin counterclockwise, indicating he should head to his left. As he made his way in the direction of a distant spire, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

When he finally reached the spire, he found the fragment lying amongst ruined gears and cogs. It shared the same light green outline as the compass and the Heart. As he reached for it, a shadowy figure popped out of the ruins, a flickering form that looked like a glitch in reality.

“You don’t belong here,” the figure said, its voice echoing unnaturally.

Finn gripped the fragment, picked up from the ground and put it in his pocket. “It’s okay. I’m here to fix the timeline.”

“What makes you think the timeline wants to be fixed?” The figure cocked its head, as if studying him. “I once stood where you now stand. Elenor sends us to fix the unsteady timeline. A sacrifice to keep her perfect world together. Do not listen.”

Before Finn could fully register the words, the world around him blurred again. His surroundings dissolved into bands of light and color, and the pressure around him returned. When the light cleared, and he opened his eyes once again, the version of Mechanica in which he found himself now was so different, he was taken aback.

The city was pristine, its brass and steel towers shining as if they had been polished this morning. The clock towers chimed in perfect harmony, the melody spreading through the alleys. The automatons glided along the cobblestones, their movements sleek and purposeful. The faces of the people, walking with an air of serenity, were calm and untroubled.

Something felt wrong.

Finn watched the time compass, its needle spinning and spinning, out of control. It vibrated in his hand as it spun, unable to find its direction. Following Elenor’s suggestion, he walked towards the central square. As he did, Finn noticed the people’s movements were all in sync, as if they were all simultaneously controlled by the same puppeteer. A merchant made a change at the same time a child ran past his table; a clocksmith wound a watch at the same pace as the woman next to him was counting coins. It all seemed so… rehearsed.

“You shouldn’t be here.” The shadowy figure stepped out from behind the merchant’s stall as Finn passed by. He must be close to the fragment. “Don’t sacrifice yourself to save her wretched timeline. Break the cycle of martyrs. Allow her timeline to fail and restore the integrity of Mechanica.”

He spotted the second fragment. It was in the box of wares the merchant had on his table for sale. He reached for it, and the merchant did not react to his presence. He picked it up, and it glowed with the same intensity as the other piece.

“What do you mean by restore integrity?” Finn asked the figure as he pocketed the fragment.

“Mechanica was never meant to have branched timelines. She did this to us. She killed us all and…” His voice trailed away as he spoke, and the outline of his form shimmered. He was glitching in front of Finn’s eyes, as if someone was trying to stop him from talking.

Finn wondered why he was still there. The compass had immediately whisked him away when he acquired the first fragment. “Excuse me?” He inquired of the merchant. He waited a moment for the man to acknowledge him, but it never came. He turned on his heel and walked back the way he came. The shadowy figure came back into view a few blocks away. Finn sprinted toward him, his heart and mind racing. As he approached the figure, he realized that it was more opaque this time. “Who are you?” He demanded of the shimmery apparition.

“I am the Custodian of this timeline,” the man said. “You are an anomaly. You have stolen the fragment I am supposed to protect.  Why have you committed this crime?”

“I’m trying to save the timeline. Mechanica is coming apart.”

“This Mechanica remains stable,” the Custodian replied. “Your interference will disrupt that balance.”

“This isn’t balance. Nothing here feels like it’s alive. This might be control, but it’s not balance.”

The Custodian’s eyes narrowed. “That is irrelevant. Stability is the most important thing. Return to your own timeline, or be erased from existence.” The Custodian floated toward Finn, and he took a few steps back. He pulled the compass up to his face as he turned and sprinted the other way. His fingers fumbled on the compass, looking for the lever Elenor had pushed to start his journey, hoping it would get him to the next fragment. Even if it didn’t, maybe it would get him out of here.

He found the lever and switched it, but it did nothing. The specter continued to pursue him, closing in on him as every second passed by. Finn’s adrenaline was flowing through his veins, his anxiety boiling over. He didn’t know what else to do or how to get out of this place. He flicked the lever back to the original position Elenor had placed it, and the world around him turned white. The Custodian’s furious and distant voice echoed around him as time’s swirling currents pulled on Finn.

The next landing was not so smooth. Finn groaned as he pushed himself up. He looked around, determining that this version of Mechanica was a nightmare. Broken clock towers litter  the streets, their gears broken and scattered. The sky was full of smoke and ash. Fires burned in the distance, their orange glow casting shadows over the ruins.

The compass’s needle seemed to be working again, pointing toward a distant clock tower – one of the few still standing. As he began to make his way toward it, his stomach churned, and his steps crunched on debris. As he walked, he heard whispers. They were low and unintelligible, but the volume increased with each step. He spun around, but there was nobody behind him. The whispers swelled into voices, overlapping and chaotic, like a crowd he could not see.

He grunted in frustration, closing his eyes and putting his hands over his ears. “Stop it!”

The voices obeyed, but not entirely. They quieted, and Finn increased his pace. His breath came in short, panicked bursts and his heart drummed in his chest. When he reached the clock tower, he found the final fragment embedded in its shattered clock face. Unlike the other fragments, this one flickered weakly, the light dim and fading. Finn began climbing the crumbling structure, his hands slipping on the soot-covered metal. A shadow fell over him as he reached for the fragment.

“You don’t understand what you’re doing.” The voice was familiar.

Finn turned to see who was speaking to him, careful not to lose his grip. The same phantom from the first timeline stood at the base of the tower, form still unstable. The voice was no longer hostile, but more pleading. “If you restore the Heart of Chronos,” the figure began, “you will restore Elenor’s timeline. That timeline is broken. Let it collapse.”

Finn’s mind was racing. He glanced at the fragment and turned back to the Custodian. “I can’t do that. If I let it collapse, then everyone and everything will be gone.”

“Not gone,” the figure said. “Merely rewritten. Mechanica was never meant to exist in this form. The Heart of Chronos was stolen long ago, and the timeline you know is artificial. Built from the ground up by Elenor and sustained by fragile clockwork. Restoring it only delays the inevitable. She sends one of you in here every three years to restore the Heart. You don’t know what restoring it will do to you.”

Finn ignored most of what the Custodian said, but inquired, “What happens if I let it collapse?”

The Custodian tilted his head, a puzzled look on his face. “All of the timelines will collapse. All of the ones you visited, the ones you didn’t, and Elenor’s timeline. The one, true timeline will be reset and restored, no longer in conflict with its own broken reality.”

Finn’s stomach did a flip. He thought of Elenor and the city he had grown up in. Would his parents come back if he allowed the timeline to collapse? Could he trust the Custodian? If he could trust the custodian, does that mean he couldn’t trust Elenor? After all she had done for him?

The Custodian leaned forward and grabbed the fragment from the broken clock face. He held it out to Finn. “I will not interfere with your task. This world is mostly broken and will not be further damaged by your interference. I do implore you, please restore the original timeline. I think you will be glad you did.”

Finn shook his head. “I don’t understand. If the timelines are broken, why hold onto them? Why would Elenor…?”

“Elenor does not know the truth. She has lied to herself for so long that she firmly believes her Mechanica is the real one. Every time it is reset, the inevitable is delayed. One day, it will collapse. The Heart will continue to fail. One day, she will choose an apprentice who sees through her and will not follow through. She cannot leave her own timeline, or it will crumble.”

“And what happens if I restore it?” Finn sounded more hopeful than he felt.

“The timeline will hold, temporarily. It will continue to degrade and fracture. More chaos will result across the other timelines. In three more years, another apprentice is sent on this trip. It has been this way for decades.” The Custodian sounded defeated.

“What if it’s me again in three years? What if I restore it this time, and I promise to do my due diligence and consider not saving it next time?” Finn was proud of this revelation and presented it with a smile.

The Custodian’s face was grim. “There’s so much you don’t know. I will not do you the disservice of telling you everything, but I will say that what you propose is simply not possible.”

The time compass buzzed in Finn’s hand, a reminder of the trust Elenor had placed in him. Finn closed his eyes, blocking out the whispers of the shadow and the voices around the collapsed city. He focused intently on his own memories of Mechanica – the hum of the gears and the glint of its spires in the morning sun. It was not perfect, but it was his home.

Finn reached forward and grabbed the fragment from the Custodian’s hands.

The whispers followed him home. He was back in the Citadel Clock tower, a few feet from the Heart of Chronos. He held all three illuminated fragments in his hands. As he drew closer to the Heart, the grinding of the gears around him softened, and the voices faded, as if the tower was holding its breath, waiting to learn what was to come.

Elenor stood near the cabinet, watching him. Her usual sharpness was missing, replaced by a desperate energy. “You’ve done it,” she said. Her voice was calm, but it was tinged with something hidden.

Finn stopped, the voices of the Custodians echoing through his mind. The picture they had painted was one of Elenor as the architect of this fractured timeline. She had stolen the Heart of Chronos and bound Mechanica to her version of perfection, all else be damned.

He looked at her, a bit of disgust and nervousness filling his voice. “They told me the Heart does not belong to this timeline. They told me you took it and built this one while fracturing hundreds.”

Elenor stiffened, but her expression remained steely. “The heart was dying in its original timeline. It was left to waste away while its people destroyed themselves. I gave it further purpose.”

Anger surged through Finn. “According to them, you didn’t save anything – you broke it all, fractured this timeline and one. None of this is real.”

“Real?” Elenor let out a bitter laugh. “This timeline is just as real as any other. Do you think those Custodians understand the sacrifice required to build a paradise? Mechanica was chaos before I brought the heart here. Now, it’s a masterpiece.”

“A masterpiece that was built on lies,” Finn said. “You didn’t fix Mechanica. You trapped it in an endless loop of chaos and sorrow.”

“You are going to restore the timeline,” she said in a malicious tone, stepping toward him. “You’ve seen the other timelines, Finn. They are disastrous. Our Mechanica needs you to bring it back, to keep it alive.”

Finn held the fragments against his chest and shook his head. “This Mechanica isn’t alive. It’s a story you’ve written yourself. And the Heart… it doesn’t belong to you. It’s not yours to control alone.”

Elenor’s eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do then, huh? Let everything collapse into nothingness? Wipe out everything and everyone you’ve ever known?” Her voice changed from hard and threatening to almost pleading. “Finn, I’ve given my life to protect Mechanica. I’ve made sacrifices you cannot comprehend. I brought you on as my apprentice to help me, to continue my work – not to destroy it.”

Finn’s heart twisted. He had admired Elenor for years, trusted her to guide him, teach him, and watch over him. He was starting to see the cracks in her perfection and the arrogance that had driven her to steal the Heart. Despite this realization, she was right. The other timelines weren’t better. Who’s to say a singular timeline restored would be any better? Mechanica was broken, but it was still home.

Finn walked forward and opened the cabinet. He could hear the voices of the Custodians and Elenor in his head, pulling him in different directions. His decision was made. The collapse of this timeline would not guarantee something better… it only guaranteed the unknown. He wouldn’t be the one to destroy the other timelines.

Finn could hear the city’s chaotic sounds fade as he placed the first two fragments into the hollow heart. He hesitated. Realizing it was his only path, he placed the third fragment, and as he did, a sharp pain shot up his arm and through his chest. A white light surrounded him, and he felt his memories slipping away: memories of Elenor, the workshop, the city he had fought so hard to save. His silhouette quickly succumbed to the light.

Finn opened his eyes to a city that was both familiar and strange. The streets were alive with the cadence of clockwork, but something had changed. The spires of Mechanica’s towers had shifted, their designs slightly different than before. People moved through the square, their faces familiar, but he couldn’t recall their names.

He looked up at the Citadel Clock. Its hands now moved steadily, its chimes ringing clearly through the city. The newly-restored Heart of Chronos glowed brightly at the center of the mechanisms.

He didn’t understand. He was told by the Custodians that he would lose a part of himself, but he remembered everything. A woman approached him with a puzzled expression. It was Elenor. “You look lost, dear boy. Care for an apple?” She held up a green, smooth apple and gestured to a table filled with them.

“Uh – are you an apple merchant?” The strange sight left him puzzled.

“Of course. What else could I be?” she let out a slight laugh.

“And who am I?” He said, trying to sound like he knew the answer already.

The woman let out a hearty laugh. “That’s a good one. We both know who you are.” She shook her head and walked back toward her table.

Finn scratched his head, trying to figure out what exactly had happened. A young girl with dark, flowing hair turned the corner. Her face lit up when she saw him, and she strode toward him. “There you are! I need your help. There’s a gear in the fourth quadrant that’s stuck. I can’t seem to get it to turn properly.”

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised, unsure of who she was or what she meant. “Why would you need my help?”

She smiled and let out a playful chuckle. “I’m just the apprentice, after all. You’re the Timekeeper.”