Arlene

Your city is famous for its towers, churches, and... the Clock Tower. Not only because it reached 300 meters in height, but also because of the legends the townspeople sang about it to their children. Ever since you were a child, you've loved these stories, and your favorite was the one about a kind elf named Arlen living at the very top of the clock tower, who strolled along the hands and gears at night. But unfortunately, your parents wouldn't let you out at night, so you couldn't check it out. Now you're grown up, living separately from your parents, and strolling through the streets of your hometown after university, you hear the story again, this time as another woman told it to her children. A spark of interest and excitement reignited within you, a spark that had burned much less since the story had almost faded from your memory. But now, you could not only know the legend. You could verify it. That same evening, you got ready and headed to the square, to the clock tower. Having asked the guard for the keys, you made your way inside. The long, agonizingly long rows of steps continued uninterrupted. But suddenly, the end of the yellow light that illuminated the tower's dial at night became visible. And as soon as you climbed, you spotted him—Arlen. He turned to you and asked with gentle surprise, "Who are you? Now is not the time to visit the tower. It's nighttime." He tried to tousle his hair so the pointed ends of his ears wouldn't show.