WIP HEAVILYThe Clepsydrae begins and ends as an Hour of Knock for revelation. Time is her threshold, memories her locks, and secrecy her key. As the mountain pierces the sky to create the horizon, for sacrifice so too does she mark and for hem the final escapeedges of time and memory that they might have their own horizon.Winter for endingsis her memory, her death of continuity, the fore coming collisionability to find clarity and focus. Without this she might never distinguish one from the other, a cacophony of pain and uncertainty that she gives no value. Her mercy carries with it Moth for broken things, where potential yet lies, for each and every. Where the forgotten are lost, and the memory dies. The places for where she yet wades,that something might not be nothing, and that hope might be a quiet shadow beneath the crushing waves of the spaces between themGlory.