Spin, spin, the clock at the center of the world continues to spin, a wheel spinning out new hours, six, then six, then twelve again and dawn rises as it always does.
No one from the world disturbs its little basement. It's a calm place, filled with gears and water wheels, a little bit outside time, as this is where time is spun.
No one from the world comes here, but it's not currently unoccupied.
"You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?"
"I haven't any fate. Don't you think that's a poor way to introduce oneself?"
"You haven't been cursed?"
He has a perpetual, fixed grin. Pointy ears, a backpack festooned with masks... the narration really wants you to call him the Happy Mask Salesman, for some reason.
"I was expecting someone cursed to pass this way. And you're as good as transformed into a spider, aren't you?"
That's a ridiculous moniker, and the narration should know its place.
"I was born a spider, so to speak, and I don't feel that it's a curse."
She glances around; performatively, there isn't anything to learn she doesn't already know.
"Not many are going to pass this way, are they?"
"I expect just you and I. Oh, but what am I to do, if you don't have a curse to lift?"
He grins solicitously.
"Won't you hear me out?"
"It would be my pleasure, if you can contain your prejudice against spiders. Perhaps I'll break the mold and you'll see us in a new light? And I have no doubt your words will be a great help in getting myself oriented."
He pantomimes some sort of... exuberant grinning dance of joy.
"Wonderful! Wonderful! I'm in a predicament, you see. I'm the Grinning Mask Salesweirdo, a merchant who trades in masks!"
"Oh, forgive me. If you've decided to introduce yourself properly after all, I can hardly object to your choice of name, can I? Please go on."
"No, no, the fault is mine. Ahem."
"I'm the Happy Mask Salesman, a merchant who trades in masks! Not long ago, I went to considerable lengths to acquire a very rare, very valuable mask. But, oh, misfortune fell upon me! I was waylaid by an imp, and robbed of this precious mask."
"I suppose if I step outside, I can gainfully track down your thief and recover your stolen goods, then? I'm pleased to have such clear direction at the outset."
"As you count gain, spider, perhaps. I was to offer the breaking of a curse as incentive; now I can only prevail upon your better nature."
Grin (not that he was ever not grinning). "Or your curiosity?"
"But the matter has some urgency! You see, I am always travelling, and I must depart this place in three days."
"I shan't ask if your ominous emphasis relates to how you're to be found hiding outside of time."
"Dearly. I'll take my leave, then."
She pushes open the door. As is her habit in an unfamiliar place, she invisibly weaves a strand of brightest shadow as she goes, to mark her path.
(It may be a door from outside the world to in, but she's climbed a strand of web across the void beyond voids itself. She hasn't met the metaphysics that can break her thread, and doesn't ever expect to.)
– First Day
– 06:01
It sounds like something before it looks like something: hammering and sawing, and of course the clockwork running behind her, ticking out the seconds. Shouting, from the carpenters swarming the square, hard at work on their tower.
This is a walled town; not that large, estimating from the curve of the wall to the south. Assuming it's circular, but how could it be anything but?
Radial is the best sort of symmetry! This place seems pleasant and orderly.
Additionally, a blue haired boy wearing a yellow fox mask is walking into the square.
Standing out is dangerous; it might get you talked to.
She realizes around now she doesn't particularly have a description of this "rare, valuable" mask, or the "imp" accused of stealing it. Not that this boy or his mask particularly seem to fit; he's a child wearing what looks like a simple toy for children. But would she know if it did?
Hurrying across the square, dodging carpenters.
"Pardon me."
She's ignored. The boy drops something in the mailbox, then runs off back where he came from.
Some children prefer not to talk to strangers, as ever.
Might she want to follow up on this? Or is she just tempted to stalk some poor boy out of sheer nosiness? Well, web is free. She pursues in shadow.
– First Day
– 06:04
He ran off to a little back alley. It's not very shadowed, but he's not paying much attention, hurrying back very urgently.
There's a sort of artificial pond built back here, clear and fed by a waterway, sedately filling and draining with the passage of time. Some flowers grow nearby, a lone frog relaxes improbably nearby.
The boy is crossing a bridge; there's a door on the other side, which is the only place he can be going, unless this town reveals some very well-hidden secret doors in its walls.
She doesn't need to mark the lad himself. But his probably-unrelated mask is now webbed, in case children's toys become unexpectedly relevant.
He's just headed inside, where he'll stay put.
However, a tiny floating sprite hovering above the water has taken notice.
"Your Majesty?" she(?) says timidly. "Please hear my plea?"
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