In the barren desert of oblivion stood Time. As she moved forward, relentless, the memory of her starting point faded away. Something told her there was no destination—only a path: dry, lonely, endless.
She wanted to feel exhaustion, but her body knew no fatigue, cold, or pain. Instead, there was only emptiness—a hole too deep to fill, too vast to measure.
At her last stop, she found a common family, but one child was different. She had the Gift of Sight. The girl looked up and asked:
— What's your name?
The question was direct, sweet, and unexpected.
— I… have no idea, — Time replied, her voice harsh though it was simply the truth.
She felt ashamed. It was humiliating not to remember even her own name.
— It's okay! — the girl smiled and then reached out to play with her.
Time didn't want to lie to that child, as she had done so many times before. Across countless eras and lives, she had many names, many faces, and fulfilled endless wishes. But if anyone asked where she came from, she wouldn't know. She just wandered—from age to age, existence to existence—doing what she knew. It was her purpose. Her essence.
Sometimes, though, she liked to watch human families. She enjoyed being present in their joys, and for brief moments, almost felt part of them. At times… she wished she had a family like that.
"Lua!"
A child's voice echoed in her mind.
"Luana!"
The sound grew louder—sharper. A scream. Despair.
Instinctively, Time leapt to a specific point.
— Luana, please wake up… — the boy sobbed endlessly. His tears seemed never-ending.
Why was he crying so much?
— Is she your sister? — Time asked, approaching the still body.
— Yes… — he nodded, wiping his face with the back of his hand. — Can you help her? Please? I'll do anything—he begged, grabbing Time's arm and shaking it, as if to convince her.
Time knelt down, studying closely.
— She's dead, — she said coldly and directly, touching the girl's neck.
She didn't know exactly what happened, but she could imagine. Maybe they were playing near the frozen lake… and the ice broke. Luana fell in. She drowned. Her brother managed to pull her out, but it was too late.
— No… — the boy whispered, dropping to his knees. — No… there has to be a way. She can't die… please…
— I never said there was no way, — Time replied, impatient. — You have a special gift. If you give me that gift, I can bring her back.
She didn't ask for eternal price or exchange of roles, like before. In that moment, guided by an instinct she barely understood, Time offered something different. She didn't need more power. She could even sacrifice part of what she had. What she truly desired was one thing:
The ability to forge her own destiny.