the sands of time

Telran watched the sand run down. Soon he would turn the hourglass, giving those on the world they had created another year. It was a chore he had done for millennia. A task that allowed him time to watch those on the world below with avid interest. He had seen the birth of all races, the death of some, yet his only concern was the hourglass that measured it all.

He couldn’t believe how swiftly the centuries had passed. He was due to be relieved of this duty any year now. Part of him regretted the rule that said this could only be a temporary post, he understood it, having felt a kinship for those beings he watched.

Lost in his thoughts Telran didn’t notice Derana’s approach until her presence chilled him. He called telepathically for aid before turning toward the ladder, he could no longer see, in anticipation.

“I don’t wish to kill you, little brother, step aside.”

“I cannot,” Telran said, his voice sounded flat in the damp air. The sands were running low, if he could turn the glass another year would begin, not even Derana could stop that.

“This world is done, it is time for us to find a new one. They ignore us, do things in our name that even I wouldn’t sanction.”

“Then let us move on, leave them to it, we have done it before.”

“We have. Though this time they irked me and it is my turn to decide.”

“I can’t let you,”

The fog surrounded Telran. Pain permutated every cell of his being, he reached for the ancient hourglass with his dying strength. It was too late, the last grain of sand had fallen, ending both his life and all life on the world below.

(Word count 299)