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The Silent Clock

Summary:

Westnorth was a town not on any of Sustin’s maps; it lay deep in the southern bogs with only one train to take there. Sustin thought nothing could match the Athena, but a fire in the town’s past and a journal left by his uncle proved him wrong. The secret of the Lost Mystery Club began in Westnorth, and the journey looming on the horizon crept closer to destroying everything Sustin thought he knew. Starting with why the clocktower in the centre of town is silent.

*The last book is not necessary to understand this one.

Chapter 1: The Westnorth Report

Chapter Text

Lost Mystery Club,

In The Silent Clock

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Prologue

The Westnorth Report

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Dated September 28th, 1901

Chairs shuffled in the background

Girl > “¿Do you really think this is necessary?”

I > “Your friends had no trouble with my questions.”

A pen clicked and papers rustled

Girl > “I heard your questions before.”

Girl > “I don’t see why you need to ask them.”

I > “Humour me.”

A minute of silence passed

Girl > “Okay…”

I > “Thank you miss.”

A chair scratched on a hardwood floor

I > “¿What happened the night of the Westnorth fire?”

Girl > “Nothing.”

I > “You have no need to lie.”

I > “I will believe you, promise.”

The girl sighed

Girl > “I saw something.”

I > “¿Could you describe it?”

A few seconds of silence passed

Girl > “It looked like a dragon…”

I > “¿And this dragon helped you and your friends put out the fire?”

Girl > “I don’t know…”

I > “Then tell me what you do know.”

The rest of the transcript has been torn off, and no other records of this interview survived the fire.

Chapter 2: Chapter One | Town of Isolation

Chapter Text

Lost Mystery Club,

In The Silent Clock

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Chapter One

Town Of Isolation

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Memories flooded her mind, the sight, beyond her imagination. Never did she think of returning, but fate had other plans, they were watching. Old friends didn’t recognize her, her name faded from their minds. She was someone new, different… lost to time...

Summer always brought more rain than sun, in the northern bogs an old rusty track ran through the land, shaded from a rare clear sky. An emerald green steam train chugged along the track; eyes watched from the brush and wolves howled for the train’s arrival. Sustin and his guardian – the illustrious Lady J – were heading to a small town at the end of those tracks. Built from stone and brick, Westnorth stood for longer than anyone thought it should. Long-lived, but eventually forgotten, it stood proud against the backdrop of moss and drooping trees. The home of the willow wisp and a being called the bog king. Sustin spent the night before looking for the Westnorth on a map, but he couldn’t find it, like it never existed. If he was a little braver he would’ve asked the ticket man if he knew about the town. However, Sustin recalled the face the man made when Lady J paid for the ticket, surely if the man knew then he wouldn’t tell Sustin.

Together, Sustin and Lady J were cramped into a small compartment. The light hung above them flickered when they turned corners. The sound of the wheels echoed in his ears when they entered a tunnel. Sustin stared out at the passing darkness, then he looked to Lady J. She had a ‘Ladies Home Journal’ in her hands, they picked it up at a bookshop in the town surrounding the train station. This one had a soft blue cover that Lady J loved, it might even become her favourite. Sustin held a letter in his hands, the reason for their latest move. They had barely been at the last town for two months before Lady J told him to pack again. He read the letter again and again while they packed and loaded their things onto one train after the next.

‘Dear Lady J

I hope this letter finds you well. I would like to inform you a little town has been on my mind as of late. ¿Do you remember Westnorth? I miss the isolation and the quiet of the bog around it. I remember the days of our youth when we would venture deep inside the swamp looking for mysteries to solve. I have not had the time to return to Westnorth, perhaps you could take Sustin around our old stomping grounds. I’m sure he would find the town fascinating.

Signed Freid B. Aenther’

His uncle rarely sent letters. After a phone had been connected to the research lab he worked in – he preferred to call. However, sometimes Sustin got a postcard. Those were only sent when his uncle liked the picture attached to the card. This letter was odd, the stamp came from France instead of Brazil, he could tell by the picture of a grapevine and empty wineglass. His uncle had never suggested a town before, and with how quickly Lady J had them visit, Westnorth had to be special. But all Sustin had seen for the past week was bogs and swamps. He didn’t look forward to the bugs and humid heat.

“¿Can you tell me about Westnorth?” He asked Lady J. She looked up from her book and thought for a moment.

Then glanced at the bog, “Westnorth was the town my parents moved to when we left France, I met your father and uncle there.”

“It has been quite a while since I last visited.” She laughed, “But I think you will love Westnorth.” Lady J said sweetly.

“I’m sure I will.” Sustin agreed.

He stared out at the small stone houses that begun to appear around the track. They were nearing the station. He sighed and steeled himself for the new town, it wouldn’t be like Old Langhart, no Athena to haunt his sleep. He tapped his fingers on the windowsill when he felt a nick in the wood. He looked under the window, there he found another dragon carving. This time he somewhat knew what the dragon meant. But that didn’t stop the sinking feeling he got every time he spotted one. Sustin didn’t want to think about ‘Smoke’ or the Athena, he wanted to leave it behind. Luck wasn’t on his side. The train arrived in the station, Sustin followed Lady J onto the uncovered platform. There, he saw a small building selling tickets at the stairs down to the dirt road. The trees around the station reached for the mossy ground. He followed the click of Lady J's heels on the cobblestone platform.

They got a carriage from a guy, then some men helped them load it with their luggage. Sustin climbed onto the driver’s bench, Lady J joined him and they rode into town. The buildings were mostly made of the same grey stone and straw roofs, but in the town centre, a tower that looked older than the buildings around it, had a clock built on top. It looked tacked on with the newer wooden siding and slate roof. Sustin watched the clock hands strike noon, he waited for the tower to ring, but nothing happened. Now that he thought about it, the entire town had been oddly quiet. The people around the centre mumbled to each other, but he couldn’t hear them, the sound of the carriage wheels were also muffled.

He looked to Lady J, who – like usual – seemed unbothered. Sustin kept his concerns to himself. She drove through the town and to a road lined with mossy trees. He tried to think of what the Westnorth manor would look like, but nothing could prepare him for what he would see behind the gates. A four-story stone fortress stood on top of a hill. Round and square towers were scattered around the large building, the roof made blue tile and the foundation covered in a pale moss. It looked like the manor had been added and added upon without care for how the final building would look like. ¿They were staying in a castle?

Chapter 3: Chapter Two | Friend Of The Bog

Chapter Text

Lost Mystery Club,

In Silent Clock

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Chapter Two

Friend Of The Bog

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¿Friend or friendly enemy? Trust was earned, and she knew what she offered wasn’t enough. They looked down upon her, they judged and questioned every move. She had faith, they had control. By her side. ¿Were they true or trustworthy?

Sustin climbed the stairs to his room. The walls were covered in paintings of the bog, one stood out. It was of a woman in a white flowing dress, she sat by the edge of a pool of water, her dress flowing into the mirrored surface. Her reflection stared at him from the dark frame, in a completely different direction from where she was looking. He passed the painting and opened the door to his room. A canopy bed sat under a large stained-glass window. Sheer fabric was draped over the bed and on the curtain rod. Sustin placed his bag on a small roll-top desk, and he sat on the bed. It gave him a perfect view of the door and dresser. Small flowers were painted on the wooden furniture, their pale petals stood out from the dark stain. He swung his feet off the side of the bed. Then his foot hit something under it.

Sustin crouched down and looked under the mattress. He found a red and brown box. He pulled out out from under the bed and tried to open it, only to spot the lock keeping it closed. He looked around the room and inside the closet. Behind a hatbox, he found a small shoe with a key tied to the laces. He used the key to open the box, and inside he found a black leather journal. The lock on the cover was open; Sustin flipped to the first page. Someone named Amella used to own this book; her name was written in cursive with holly under the letters.

Sustin flipped through the pages, which looked like a diary or a research journal. There were entire pages dedicated to drawings of bog plants and ruins. Then there were pages filled with French or English text. Sustin flipped to the middle of the book, a story took up several pages. It detailed the fire that nearly burned down Westnorth. Amella and her friends somehow put out the fire and saved the town. Apparently they even had a plaque outside the town library. From what little Lady J had told him, Sustin never would have guessed Westnorth had a great fire. Everything looked like it had been untouched for centuries. He flipped back to the beginning, there was a date written in small print in the corner. Amella wrote this journal in the summer of nineteen-hundred. The paper was stained with dried tree sap and water damage.

Sustin closed the book and placed it into his bag. He climbed down the stairs and joined Lady J in the kitchen. Out the windows, the trees blew in the breeze, some had flowers growing on the drooping branches. Lady J sat at the kitchen island with a pot of tea and store-bought cakes. Sustin sat with her, and she poured him a cup. The lavender cleared his senses and calmed his mind. The move had brought nerves about being in an unfamiliar place, especially since he didn’t know anyone in Westnorth.

“Mr Sustin, I hear there is a park in the centre of town.” Lady J spoke, “Maybe we can visit.” She offered.

“I would love to.” Sustin responded between sips of his tea. Lady J nodded approvingly. She cleaned up the island and placed the cakes into the icebox.

Sustin jumped out of his seat and ran back to his room to grab his bag. He then joined Lady J in the entrance hall, they walked back to town. The sounds of the bog became muffled the closer they got to Westnorth. Right as they came to the first cluster of houses, the world became nearly silent. Sustin shook off the uneasy feeling the silence created. He couldn’t judge the source of the quiet so soon after arriving in the town. Lady J took him to the square; above the entrance to the park was a sign that read ‘Sǣlġe biþ sē þēodsċipe þe þone feþerbǣran hlēowdryhten ġeǣneþ’. Sustin couldn’t tell what language the sign was written in, but his best guess would be Old English. He wished he knew more about the language, for now the message was a mess of letters he couldn’t read.

Lady J stayed at a gazebo that overlooked a river cutting through the park. Sustin followed the path to a playground. A bench sat opposite of it. He approached the steps up to a small castle, the metal groaned and creaked when he put his weight on the first step. Sustin backed off the playground, it clearly had been rusted beyond what was safe. He sat on the bench, the wood creaked under him, but it held. He pulled out his sketchbook and started to draw the playground. His charcoal pencil glided across the cotton page, he made lines following the shape of the playground before filling in the details. Someone stood in front of him.

“Excuse me, but you’re blocking my light.” Sustin politely spoke. A girl wearing a bucket as a hat mumbled a ‘sorry’ and moved out of the way. She stared at his drawing, watching him draw the final details.

“I’ve never seen you before.” She spoke up.

“Oh, I’m visiting. My family has a manor not far from here.” He told her with a smile.

“People don’t visit Westnorth much.” She stated, “You’re strange.”

“¿Thanks?” He questioned. She nodded and sat next to him. Her boots had a frog’s face moulded into the rubber. She wore a pair of faded overalls and a striped sweater with bright orange buttons. Overtop it all was a bright blue raincoat.

“¿You’ve heard the clocktower?” She asked.

“¿No? It didn’t make a sound.” Sustin spoke.

“It never has.” She informed him, “For longer than I’ve known Westnorth, the clock has never made a sound.”

“¿Really, why hasn’t it?” He fully faced her. Her skin was covered in sun spots and freckles. Her long, dirty blonde hair was choppy like she cut her own hair without a mirror.

“Don’t know, it’s probably magic though.” She shrugged. The girl spoke with a thick accent he didn’t recognise.

“Right…” Sustin trailed off. He closed his sketchbook and pulled out the journal. There had to be a page on the Clocktower.

“I have one of those too.” She pointed to the black cover.

“¿You do?” Sustin immediately asked.

She stuck her hand impossible far into the bucket on her head and pulled out an identical journal. She picked at the lock before it unlocked and she turned to the first page. Her journal was written by a boy named Benjamin B. Under his name was a branch with an apple blossom next to the ‘j’. The girl flipped to the same page Sustin was on, a similar story about the Westnorth fire was written on the page, the edges were burned, and the paper had a leaf-shaped stain over the words. She flipped to a page with the playground drawn above a short note, ‘rusty and unsafe’. Sustin nearly laughed at how little had changed since Benjamin wrote in the journal.

“I’m Sustin. ¿What is your name?” He offered his hand.

She took it and they shook, “Constantia. I live under the bridge.”

“¿Do you ask for a toll before people can cross?”

“Nope, but that’s a good idea.” She winked. Sustin laughed, and Constantia's smile grew.

“My guardian, Lady J, is buying sandwiches at a shop in the square. ¿Do you want to join us?” He asked.

“¡You betcha!” She followed him to a small shop in the centre of town. They found Lady J talking to the woman at the counter. She turned to Sustin when the woman pointed at them.

“¿Is he the Aenther boy?” The woman asked.

“Mr Sustin, I see you made a friend.” Lady J spoke sweetly, “¿What is your name, miss?” Constantia repeated her name, but left out where she was staying.

“You have a very lovely name, Miss Constantia. ¿Would you like to share lunch with us?” She asked.

“Yup.” She nodded.

Lady J ordered them a plate of sandwiches and three cups of tea. They sat down at one of the outside tables with their food. Constantia quickly ate her food, and Sustin finished his soon after. Lady J was eyeing them as they sipped their tea. There was a look in her eye, like she knew something Sustin didn’t, but wasn’t willing to say. Once they were done with lunch, Constantia took Sustin’s hand and dragged him to a bench overlooking the Clocktower. He stared at her as she glared at its face. The clock hands struck the third hour, and not a sound came from the tower.

“Maybe it’s only supposed to ring at twelve.” He proposed.

Constantia shook her head, “No, I heard the bell rings at every hour.”

“Oh, that might be worse.” Sustin stared up at the minute hand slowly moving, “Something must be wrong with the gears, or the bell is missing.”

“We should check.” Constantia ran up to the door at the base of the tower.

“¡Wait!” He rushed after her. She tugged at the doorknob, but the door didn’t budge.

“We can’t break in.” Sustin stressed. Constantia let go of the doorknob and stared at him with her hands on her hips.

“¿And why not?” She asked.

“¿What? What do you mean ‘why not’.” He gaped at her. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Constantia turned back to the door, only to jump when they saw a girl standing in front of it.

“¿Where did you come from?” Constantia spoke rudely. The girl brushed a dreadloc out of her face. She had on a pale blue dress with a matching bow in her hair.

She moved her hands, ‘¿The Clocktower door tried to open why?’ She signed. Constantia stared at her hands.

“¿What did you do?” She spoke slowly.

“She signed.” Sustin told her, then he turned to the girl, “We weren’t breaking in, my friend just got a little to excited.”

He pointed to the tower, “¿It’s cool, right?” He smiled at her. The girl looked at the door and shrugged. She began to walk away.

“¿Wait, what is your name?” Sustin asked.

The girl turned to them, slowly, she spelled her name, ‘J-U-N-A.’

“It’s nice to meet you, Juna. I’m Sustin, and my friend is Constantia.” Sustin spoke. Juna nodded and left.

Constantia looked at him, “Don’t tell me ya haven’t broken into somewhere before.”

“¡No!” He cried, “I haven’t.”

“And ya must’ve never been without a house to sleep in.” She crossed her arms like the idea was silly.

“Of course not. ¿Do you like sleeping under the bridge?” He asked.

“It’s cool in the warmer days, and it shelters ya from the rain.” She answered.

“So does a house. ¿Where are your parents?” Sustin followed.

Constantia shrugged, “Eh, I don’t have any. No one’s watched me since I turned ten.”

“¿And you’re how old now?” He felt a headache brewing behind his brows.

“Thirteen, going on fourteen. ¿You?” She asked.

“I’m eleven and ten months, eighteen days. I turn twelve on the twenty-eighth of August.” He spoke.

“My birthday was the eighth.” Constantia replied.

“That was four days ago.” Sustin gasped, “¿What did you do for it?”

Constantia shrugged again and got a pained look on her face, “I did really do anything. It was raining, so I spent most of the day under my bridge.”

“¿You didn’t celebrate with the people you care about?” He asked sadly.

“Well, I have a friend, and she will give me something the next time I see her. We don’t really do birthdays, there’s always too much to worry about and wasting time like that isn’t great.” She walked back to the park, and Sustin followed not far behind her.

He quietly questioned what she could be worried about. The Clocktower didn’t seem like anybody’s priority, least of all Constantia’s. She took him to a bridge crossing the river. He stared down a the bank under the stone walkway. Living in the mud wasn’t something he ever had to do, and it didn’t seem appealing either. He checked his watch; the sun would be setting soon, and Lady J wanted him to help her unpack. Sustin waved goodbye to Constantia. The walk back to the manor was just as quiet as the path to town. He squeezed the strap of his messenger bag. He had a familiar feeling, one similar to when he learned of Old Langhart and its connection to the Athena. There was another mystery, one he couldn’t ask Lady J for help with. This time a new friend was by his side, but this time he had even less information than last time. The Westnorth Clocktower can’t hide its secrets from him. Sustin will find an answer to the clock’s silence.

 

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