A tributary stream joins with a larger, main stream in
the center of Bridgeland. Although shallow, the water
level is confined by a concrete and stonework channel,
easily the height of two men.
Out from the shadows underneath a series of bridges
covering the streams, staggers the Timekeeper.
The Timekeeper shuffles forward in a confused state,
with one hand he grasps furtively to the wall, the
other hand clenches the side of his abdomen, which is
dark and stained with blood.
Shuffling into the light, he takes his hand from
inside his tattered cloak, and holds it up to the light.
Emaciated and gaunt, his hand is more like a claw.
He shivers and stares for a moment as blood drips wet
from his hand, his arm and robes stained with darker
dried blood and dirt.
The river beneath him runs with blood, and he
tentatively takes a few more steps forward.