Evangeline Gearheart's Journal Entry #24

The Clockwork Valentine :14 February 2025

The dream always began the same way.

A city of brass and steam. Airships drifting through Gildengrave’s skyline, their engines thrumming in harmony with the ticking clocks of the marketplace. The scent of melted chocolate and rosewood twined with the crisp bite of winter.

Lady Evangeline Gearheart moved through the grand market halls, past stalls brimming with confections that whispered secrets of time itself. Here, chocolate was a craft, its creation as delicate as the inner workings of a pocket chronometer.

But the dream always faltered.

Reality fractured—a rupture, unseen yet deeply felt. Time tore itself apart, the gears grinding as she was cast into the unknown.

And then—

Light.

Wind.

Stillness.

The brass-and-steam world of Gildengrave had vanished. Instead, a city of glass and concrete stretched before her. The hum of engines was different here—quieter, smoother, devoid of steam’s defiant hiss.

Lady Evangeline had fallen into 2025, stranded in Knottingley, England, separated from the grand clockwork era she had once called home. But time, ever persistent, refused to leave her behind.

From the remnants of her past, she built Timekeeper’s Treats—a confectionery fused with the essence of time, where chocolates carried the craftsmanship of another era. It was only the beginning, a stepping stone, a foundation for something greater.

One day, she would see the rise of Cog & Cocoa Emporium, a collective of artisans and dreamers, bound together by the spirit of invention, time, and craft. But for now, she worked within the gears of the present, building toward the vision that whispered through every ticking second.

And then, on Valentine’s Day, a package arrived.

Wrapped in silk, sealed with a cog-shaped wax stamp, the ticking inside sent a thrill through her veins. Not fear, but recognition.

Carefully unwrapping it, she found a delicate heart-shaped chocolate, its surface gleaming with a sheen of rose essence.

Inside, a note.

"May your gears turn in harmony with the one who truly understands your time. —A.C."

A.C. again.

That name had followed her through time, surfacing when she least expected it, weaving itself into the very fabric of her existence.

Weeks later, another message arrived—hidden within the pages of a dusty journal at The Inventor’s Alcove:

"When the Equinox Clock turns, watch for the missing key. —A.C."

Her pulse quickened. The Equinox Clock—a relic from a world she once knew, now a forgotten artifact buried in history. It had measured time not in days and hours, but in portals, in possibilities. If the missing key had resurfaced, did that mean her timeline had left an imprint upon this world?

Another clue emerged beneath the brass gears of an old automaton—this time within The Artisan’s Enclave, signed with a golden cog:

"To find the heart of time, follow the whispers of midnight brass."

Midnight brass. The phrase unlocked something deep within her, stirring memories of the Celestial Clock—the only mechanism capable of bridging fractured timelines.

Had A.C. traced its remnants here?

The final message arrived on the eve of the spring equinox. Delivered by hand, within a clockwork locket—its engraving unmistakable: Timekeeper’s Treats, captured in miniature.

Inside, a single golden key rested in place.

"If you follow the ticking heart, you will find the answer."

Evangeline ran her fingers over the key’s surface, its weight pressing against her palm. A door was waiting to be unlocked. A path was waiting to be walked.

And time, relentless as ever, was watching.

Was this a test? A warning? A gift?

Or was it the first step toward a way home?