Travels of a Clockmaker
Yern examined the contents of her trunk briefcase, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Clothes, supplies, travel documents, everything was there. She attached the chain of her pocket watch to the breast pocket of her shirt, and slipped the old timepiece in. The clockmaker picked up the briefcase and left the building, locking up her shop before heading down the path out of town.
Every so often - on the eve of the three hundredth full moon - she had to go on a journey. Modern day conveniences made it much quicker now, so it had been much less of a worry the last few times. But it used to be a treacherous journey, full of danger. She had embarked on hundreds of these journeys, and had come close to death many times. But it was worth it, for it was how she managed to continue thriving.
As she walked out of town, she passed by the remains of an old mansion that had been ravaged by fire merely a few weeks ago. The sight of it brought a smile to her face.
She walked towards the airport, traversing across what had once been rich farmland, but was now covered in tarmac and concrete. Yern often missed the era before technology was so prevalent in everyday life; while aeroplanes and motorboats made journeying much easier, automobiles and other vehicles just served to destroy the natural world. It was the reason she both dreaded and looked forward to her travels. She hated having to witness how much of what she once knew was gone, but her destination let her escape all that.
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Several hours later, she stood at the edge of a forest. Her plane had touched down not long ago, and she quickly made her way to this place. Where she was now marked the edge of what used to be a village, the village she had been born in. Once the last of her people - Yern herself - left this place, nature took over unnaturally quickly. The woods that were now here were home to rumors of spirits and ghouls and supernatural happenings. Some of the rumors were just that, rumors (many spread by Yern herself); others had their bases firmly rooted in truth.
Yern entered the forest, the trees seemingly parting on their own to let her through. She knew exactly where she was heading, a small grove blocked off to everyone but herself. In this grove were only two things: a small cabin, and a sparkling pond. This pond was what rejuvenated Yern, what kept her alive and young. Tomorrow night she would be bathing in it under the light of the full moon. But for tonight, she entered the cabin, to rest after her journey to get here.