"Even the clock which has stopped tells the correct time twice a day, But what about the man who has forgotten how to tell time totally?
- Anonymous Fragment
The rain was falling like falling tines, each drop had a rhythm across the broken stone above him. He didn't wake up because of the noise, he woke up because of the silence. The silence was too complete, too intentional.
He opened his eyes.
Gray colored sky, Iron towers, A city driven by gears.
Aeren realized that he has forgotten his own name,
this wasn't the first time he forgot his name.
He sat up on the rooftop, Breathlessly like a newborn. The pungent smell of the burnt oil and copper surrounded him. Far below, a mechanical tram whistled it's way through the rain soaked rails, and vanished into the fog that throbbed with amber glow.
His coat was worn, heavy. Inside the lining, stitched in thread, were two words:
"Forget Nothing"
He blinked.
A flash.
A symbol.
An ouroboros devouring a gear. A scream without sound. A name carved into rust.
Then... nothing again.
The buildings around him towered like a forgotten cathedral of industry. Somewhere near bells rang thirteen times. Always thirteen.
He reached to his pockets, only to find a single item. A clock.
But the hands of the clock moved backwards and it was warm.
In the shadows if the alley below, something moved.
Not Human. Not Flesh. Not even a machine, but something in between.
It kept a careful eye on Aeren.
"When memory is uncovered, all the remains is just the instinct. But what if that instinct leads you back to the very sin you wanted to forget?"
- Codex Fragment: The First Winder