Sands of Time

Mortals called me Sands of Time. A few called me Tick-Tock. For the best, really. I wasn't a mortal being. I didn't have a mortal name. Best to stick with the monikers.

I didn't give mortals much thought. People had compared a deity's relation to mortals with a mortal's relation to ants. Mortals liked to counter that if ants could talk, of course they'd pay more attention to them. But I didn't think they'd thought that all the way through.

Ants lived, what? Two years? Three?

That meant, to oversimplify, every two or three years there was a total overhaul, and you wouldn't recognize any of the ants. And you might be used to them, but these ants who'd never meant you, they wouldn't be used to you. You'd have to go through the same motions you had with the last ones. And you'd have to do this every two or three years.

Mortals only got along with a few select members of their own species. They certainly wouldn't be getting along with every ant in creation.

So no, I wasn't interested in mortals. And they wouldn't be either, if they were in the same situation. There were some deities who liked them, had a certain fondness for them, but I was not on that list.

Yet I was the one forced to interact with them. My body was destroyed, utterly shattered. I may be a higher power, but I still needed a body. If I didn't need one, I wouldn't have had one to destroy in the first place.

And most mortals liked their flesh vessels. They weren't keen on sharing, even with any benefits I could give them.

Wai was willing, so I lived in his body. Willing was really the only requisite. I was usually perfectly content to take a back seat. I froze time to help him sometimes. Just him, and usually only in urgent situations. I froze arrows coming at him midflight, or a branch falling down.

Wai was a little clumsy, a little likely to trip over his own feet or fall over railings. I couldn't help with that. Freezing him wouldn't do any good. I made sure he knew that. He didn't seem to mind, waving a hand.

"I've managed without you this long. Not that I'm ungrateful," he added, apparently worried about what he'd said. "I'm glad you're here. You've helped me a lot."

The general sentiment was true, but I was sure "glad" was overselling it.

One day a child, a young girl, fell into the river. It was fast moving, and hard to get out of, the once shallow banks turning into something steeper over time.

Sands of Time! Wai thought, clearly wanting help.

I freeze time for you, I pointed out.

Him, and not every person who crossed our paths. I was a person, a higher being, and not his power that he could ask to activate when convenient. There were many children. In the blink of an eye, the other children in town would be grown up. In less time than that, a new child would be born. Give it a generation, and no one would remember she existed.

I could tell Wai was mad at me. And unfortunately, he was not going to lie down and take it. He suddenly jumped for the river. This particular one was strong enough to carry him off too.

Bother.

I froze time, at least in our small patch of the world. The stream paused in its turning and bubbling. The girl stopped moving. She'd been about to be pulled under, but one arm was still sticking up high. The sound of birds singing in the trees stopped. There was even a leaf or two, that had fallen from trees and been pushed by the wind, that paused in their flight through the air.

Wai hit the river, but it was no longer trying to pull him away, or under. He clambered back out of it and went downstream, entirely too pleased with himself. When he was close enough, he grabbed the girl's wrist. He looped his other arm under her armpit, and pulled her safely back to land.

***

Wai was an elf. They had a lifespan of about 1000 years, and he was always tickled when I called him mortal. But if you had existed since before sentient species were around, and would continue after these species were gone, 1000 years was nothing.

Well, not nothing. I couldn't accidentally miss them because I took too long blinking, metaphorically. It did, at least, give me a little time before I had to find a new host. I could use my abilities to freeze or regress Wai's aging, keep him alive past his natural lifespan, but I didn't think he would like that.

"I would not," Wai confirmed, through his teeth.

Not even if I kept the rest of your town alive with you? I asked, guessing the problem.

Wai paused, and I could tell he did consider it.

"No offense," he said slowly, still thinking it through. "That sounds like the kind of thing they make horror stories about."

***

It was a warm summer morning. Birds sang in the trees, baby birds screamed. A few bugs went across the sky, not so much flying as lazily drifting wherever the air pushed them.

Wai was up early, hands clasped together, sitting on a chair just outside the front door, watching the sunrise.

Sands of Time?

Hmm?

I don't suppose you could make the moment last a little longer?

It wasn't the same as when he asked about the girl. He wasn't taking it as a guaranteed thing, and I wasn't his useful tool. He just wanted to enjoy this a little longer, if he could.

That made me more willing. Or maybe I was just indulging Wai more, as time went on.

"I can do a bit more than that," I said.

After all the world went a little duller when I froze time. Instead, the bugs began to drift backwards, familiar patterns in reverse. The mist that had slowly receded began to grow back. And of course, the sun itself moved backwards across the horizon.

But something was wrong. Wai's body felt janky. It spasmed, and its stomach churned. The normally brown skin paled. Suddenly, I could no longer keep control of the body, and it tipped off the chair.

Wai was forced to quickly take control, catching himself and taking heaving breaths, all of his focus going into not throwing up.

The lesson of that day, was just because I could do something, did not mean Wai's body could.

***

"Sands of Time?"

Wai seemed to alternate between talking to me out loud versus in his head. I couldn't figure out a pattern, but I didn't care which option he used.

Hmm?

"Do you ever want to be in charge more often?"

I can assure you, I am always in charge.

"Okay, but do you ever, like, want to control my body more often?" I could tell he didn't really like the idea of giving up control more often. He was offering anyway. "It seems like the only times you're active are when you need to be, and that sounds terribly . . . confining? Boring?"

If I were in control at the moment, I would've tilted my head. But not out of thought, more out of incredulity.

I am eternity. A bit of time letting someone else take the reigns is nothing.

"I'm not sure that's the right way to think about it though," Wai said, looking down at his hands and getting very quiet.

Explain.

"Is having a longer lifespan really better, or does it just lead to less living?" Wai asked.

He was still quiet, but he was looking up at the tree branches now. It seemed he was emboldened by my, minimal, encouragement. And he only got more so as he went on.

"I mean, if someone thought they were going to die tomorrow, they'd probably finally live their dream. Sing for an audience, write a book, learn to bake. Whatever they'd been putting off. They'd make sure their meal was something they wanted to have before they died, and read a book they'd been putting off. They'd make make sure they saw all the stars that night. And if they had more family than me, they'd want to spend the time with them." Wai shrugged.

"As for us? Never mind the past day, what have we done in the past year? Because we believe we'll keep going."

Believe? We will.

Oh? Wai switched to thoughts. Because I'm pretty sure you believed you'd live in your powerful, ethereal body forever. And yet here you are.

He just barely avoided saying I could've died. It was lucky I didn't anger easily.

I see, I thought. Well, I see your point, but I don't think I'm the right person to ask.

I wanted to keep living, obviously. I had stayed in Wai's body because of that. But what you did with your life was different for me than for a mortal. And I was even longer lived than him.

You'd have to find someone with a shorter lifespan to answer these questions, I pointed out. And neither of us know someone like that.

Not yet, Wai thought.