Every hour, on the hour the Clock Tower in the center of The City will ring its' great brass bell. You can hear the sound from every corner of The City. From every corner of your house. From every corner great or small. It is so much a part of life in The City that no one even notices it anymore. Of course they'd notice if it stopped working. While it might be the only thin in The City that didn't need to be wound to work, it winds The City. The Clock Tower keeps The City working. Without the Clock Tower there would be no City.
But no one knows why. Why does the Clock Tower wind The City? Why does the Clock Tower never need to be wound? How does it work if no one winds it? Who built the Clock Tower? Was it the Builders? Those ancient people who built The City? What purpose does the Clock Tower serve? Is it just to keep The City running? Why, why, why?
Questions the same and similar danced about Leo's head everyday whenever he heard the brassy sound from the Bell. Oh he had asked them to everyone he could think of. His parents. His siblings. His friends. Their parents. His teachers. Professors at the University. The Librarians. Clock Workers. The mechanics who repaired The City. Any old person who he saw. They all had the same answer.
The Clock Tower just is. It has been and always will been. Asking questions wont change anything.
And that was all they knew. It was enough to drive Leo crazy, bonkers, up the wall, off the deep end. It drove him straight into the historical records of The City library. The restricted section of course. He had already picked through all the books not under lock and key. (And some of those too.) But there was nothing. Nothing. Nothing was worse than one of those unsolvable puzzles the mechanics made with gears and springs and gave to little children. For those were designed to never be solved. But this was real life. There must be answers somewhere.
Of course if one needed answers they just had to know where to look. If the records were useless and the people were useless, then there was one option left. The Clock Tower itself. Which was where Leo found himself look upon. (Well, more of looking up than upon.) He was shirking class. He'd be discovered later and scolded, but if he got answers it was all worth it.
Leo had his hands stuffed in the pocket of his jacket as he eyed the foundation of the tower. There was always a way in to any building. You just had to be skilled enough to find it. And Leo was skilled. His curiosity had driven him to the dubious work of breaking and entering. Coming from a wealthy family he had been introduced to intrigue at a young age. When no one had answered his questions about what was going on political or even socially he learned you had to go to the source for answers. Of course one simply didn't ask. For you'd never get answers that way. But you had to look. Like looking under the bed for example. Many a letter full of dubious deeds and happenings were usually hidden under beds.
A useful skill set which he was going to put into use today. The sun was rising higher overhead by the minute. Soon he'd have to make a circuit around the tower and find himself a point of entry. Then? Well, then he'd have his answers.