Everything for the End of Time (PK)

[makeitsoyoucandeleteaccounts 610]

Everything for the End of Time.

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Let me tell you a story.

 

What is a man without their mind? What is a man to do without their memories? A sad thought passed Helvetia's mind as he observed the ceiling above his bed. Helvetia's Personal Clockworks had reached twelve. His brother had died. What was he now, without his beloved brother? The husk of the man he once was? Who was Helvetia, even? Only God had answers to Helvetia's ponder. And the Butler intended to find out.

 

From the Inferno of Haense, to the Tickings of Oren, Helvetia's mind had prospered in relentless might, functioning and relying on only himself at all times. Or that he liked to think, as the Butler could not remember times before the Augustine Palace halls had endulged him, and his capacity at cleaning had came to flourish. The young man sat upon his bed, taking a final glance to the signs laying upon his wall. Aleksey; his brother's name, a burning memory engraved in his skull forevermore - he intended to locate the missing sibling. And there was one place that could answer his pleads.

 

The first few steps to the Church were hurried. A fast pace for a fast mind? As Helvetia strolled across the corridor, the young man failed to regognize the odd writings on the signs. As of a foreign language, some read "oRsyar" or "iOts", strange words the Butler failed to understand. But the corridor mattered not. But the Palace mattered not.

 

The next steps to the Church became a jog. The Butler's hands steadily blocking him as he walked down the stairs to the Kitchen, then the Banquet Hall, then the Main Hall. That he could remember. Every compartment in the Palace was to remain forever safe in the Butler's mind, although he hardly spent time in most of them. The Clock approached Midnight, and Helvetia could now not make out his brother's name. The Palace's front door was slammed open, the Butler now jogging towards the Palace's gates.

The final steps to the Church were filled with anger. Raw, uncontrolled anger for the passing of his brother, whose name he now could hardly remember. His angsty pace provoked the Butler to burst into a fit of sadness. Although the young man did not realize it, the House of God had soon become his eternal safekeep. The Butler rudely slammed the doors open, his mind now barely remembering his own name. His pace hardened as he approached that altar, attempting to break it. But Helvetia was only Helvetia in the realm of God. For Helvetia's Clockworks came to a final tick. For Helvetia's mind had ended it's cycle.

 

What was I saying, again?

[TheNunnery 1853]

 

"Helvetia, a good butler, indeed he was." Madame Braun nodded to herself while making a deep sigh and a sorrowful look upon her face. After speaking to herself, briefly,  the maid simply went back to dusting off the portraits of John Charles, Duke of Helena, then Peter III, Holy Orenian Emperor within the glittering halls of the Augustine Palace. But now, there was one less butler in the vast, empty, glittering, halls. Only thing which was there, was the portraits and the sounds of her dusting.