Page 90 of Chasing Eternity
I can feel it—I’m getting closer now, nearly there. The tangible awareness of nearing my goal sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, vibrating deep within my bones as the rings on my arm buzz with energy, urging my legs to carry me quicker.
Rounding the final bend, I clutch the fabric of my gown, lift it past my knees, and break into a full sprint, charging toward the marble statue that looms just ahead. The guardian of eternity itself, whispering the ancient secrets ensconced within its bounds, is soon to be in my grasp.
Secure in the knowledge that the Timekeeper who would normally challenge me is now guarding the entrance to the maze, I seize the opportunity to pause before it and examine it in greater detail.
The lion, as seen on both the Strength tarot card and the World card, is a symbol of bravery and power. Like the Strength and World cards, there’s also a laurel wreath, a symbol of victory and honor.
Drawn by the craftsmanship of this narrative forever captured in stone, I step closer. Noting how the lion, with its intricately carved mane and dignified stance, seems to pulsate with life, standing sentinel over the ancient treasure I believe is concealed within one of the two urns that rest atop its head.
My gaze remains fixed on those urns. On the Star tarot card, they stand as a symbol of healing the past and the present. Seeing them in this context, and knowing what’s hidden inside, I’m overcome with a profound connection to history, a hallowed bond with the lineage of Timekeepers who’ve ventured here long before me.
How many others must’ve stood in this very spot, aware of the magick, the miracle, hiding inside, but chose to leave it undisturbed for the betterment of mankind?
It’s a humbling reminder of the cycles of time—the rise and fall of empires, the personal quests that lead us through the complex labyrinths of our own existence.
Also not lost on me is the numerological link between the Star and Strength cards.
The Star, positioned as the seventeenth card in the Major Arcana, breaks down to eight (one plus seven) when its digits are combined and reduced, aligning it with the Strength card’s placement at number eight.
In numerology, the number eight signifies power, prestige, success, and wealth—all attributes Arthur has achieved long ago.
What he seeks now is tied to another card he gave me to use as a clue. And though it took me a moment to recognize it, beyond the wreath and the lion featured prominently on it, the card offered little help in pinpointing the location of the Star, though it did convey a much deeper message.
The World card, also known as the Universe card, marks the end of the Major Arcana journey. It symbolizes completion and the joy of achieving one’s highest aspiration.
The card represents the finale Arthur envisions—a future where he will rule the world and control time as he pleases.
But of course, my loyalties have shifted from serving Arthur to fulfilling my Timekeeper destiny. Which is why I must ensure his dream never comes to fruition.
For a moment, I stand in awed silence, contemplating the past and the uncertainty that lies ahead in a future unknown to me.
Then, under the lion’s silent vigil, I slip off my satin shoes, and with a resolve steeled by the weight of what awaits me, I begin the climb to the top, where one of those urns hides the glimmering gem I seek.
49
It always seems easier than it turns out to be.
What initially appeared to be a simple, straightforward climb quickly becomes a perilous challenge. My silk stockings offer little to no grip against the slick surface of the carved marble stone. Twice, I’ve tumbled to the ground, landing with a hard, jolting thud. But each time, I pick myself up and begin the ascent once more.
Now, with my dress badly torn and my stockings discarded below, the urns are finally well within reach.
Climbing with renewed determination, each movement cautious yet deliberate, I wrap my fingers around the cool surface of the nearest urn.
Triumph and relief tangle within me as I secure my legs around it and pull myself up inch by painstaking inch. Grasping the rim, I haul my body up the rest of the way and thrust my arm over the lip, delving a hand inside.
My fingers sweep the urn’s interior, brushing against the bottom and sides. Feeling a small object, my pulse quickens, convinced I’ve discovered it.
Yet, as I lift it into the glow of moonlight, my spirits instantly plummet—it’s merely an ordinary stone.
Still, there’s one more urn left to check.
Peeling off my gloves, I let them fall to the ground. Repositioning myself before the second urn, I let my fingers glide along its interior.
Enveloped in silence, the pulsing of my heart in my ears underscores the monumental weight of this moment when the fate of the world hangs in the balance.
My fingers encounter a small, hard, smooth object, and a burst of anticipation surges through me. Instinctively, I recognize its importance, even before laying my eyes on it.
This is the moment!