Luthien

►Info

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Name: Luthien Occupation: Watchmaker Build: Workshop Fighter

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► Memories

Luthien leaned over her desk, squinting through her magnifying glasses. A chorus of ticking could be heard all throughout the workshop – ranging from the low sounds of a grandfather clock to the much lighter tick of each stopwatch displayed in the counter towards the front. Aside from this, the room was completely silent, eerily so. It could’ve been enough to drive one mad. Luthien didn’t mind, though. She’d come to appreciate the monotonous ticks, they were soothing in a way.

The workshop was empty aside from her, it had been that way for years now. She’d tend to the watches, get them working again, and leave them in the display case, and they’d be gone when she returned the next day, with treasure to be found in the register. Generally, she worked at night, but today, she’d gotten caught up in her work and hadn’t noticed the sun begin to peek in through the window to her right. Only when it began to reflect on the surface of her magnifying lenses did she realize that time had gotten away from her.

Luthien grumbled, getting up to close the blinds so that she could continue working. This watch was being particularly stubborn, and she was set on completing it before she left for the day, regardless of how tired she was. She hadn’t stayed this late in years, and she could feel the fatigue wear at her. Rubbing her eyes, she sat back down on her stool and lifted the pocketwatch to reassess the situation.
As she tapped at a gear, Luthien heard the bell on the door chime. Startled, she looked up to see who was coming in. Nerves rose in her stomach – she hadn’t dealt with a patron in years, her customer service had never been great, but now she wasn’t sure she could remember how to deal with people at all. Much to her relief – and confusion – when she looked up, the door simply fell closed again, not a dragon in sight. She shrugged, returning to her work. Probably someone realizing they had the wrong shop.

An adjustment here and there, and Luthien gave the watch another little tap. The hands began to move, and she smiled all too soon. Just as quickly as they started, the hands got stuck and stopped ticking forwards. She growled, setting the watch down on the table and taking a deep breath. As she rubbed at her closed eyes, the cash register popped open and she nearly hit the ceiling. She got up, looking warily around the workshop. There was still no one in sight. Approaching the register, she cocked her head and stared at the display. According to the register, a sale had been made.

She jumped back as the register slammed shut of its own accord, then backed up to the wall behind her and took in the room. Could this be some supernatural occurrence? Didn’t these things typically happen at night? Why with the daylight, did things appear to be happening on their own?

As if in mockery, the door chimed as it opened and closed without a soul entering again. Luthien shook her head, then walked back to her worktable. She was tired, she must be imagining things. As she went to pick up the pocketwatch she’d been working on to put it away, she realized that it was gone, the table clear of all her tools and work. There was no way she had imagined this, everything had been laid out on the table, she’d been working all night. Now the table looked as if no one had used it at all.

Rushing over to her toolbox, she popped open the lid to find her tools neatly put away. Something wasn’t right, this was all too strange. Maybe the day brought about spirits to take care of the shop. She didn’t care what the reason for these happenings were, she just felt she needed to get out as quickly as possible, a sinking feeling overcoming her whole body. She snatched her shawl down from its hook and ran out the door, this time no bell to accompany its opening.

What she didn’t see was the youthful dragon smiling behind the register, pleasantly attending to each customer as they came in, bell chiming each time. The patrons gazing at the beautiful watches she’d been working on for years. The shop’s owner putting her tool chest away out of the view of the customers.

Everyone knew that the expert watchmaker who made this place so special had died years ago, yet the shop was seemingly enchanted. Each morning, new and beautiful watches could be found in the display cases, and watches brought in for repair were always fixed as if by magic. The workers who ran the shop now had no idea how this worked, but didn’t question anything so long as business stayed lucrative.

Sometimes someone’s gift, a skill so special, is enough to keep them going long after death.

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By Hoku

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► Visions