Time Goes On

April 2, 2009
By Kathryn Sweeney BRONZE, Washingtonville, Pennsylvania
Kathryn Sweeney BRONZE, Washingtonville, Pennsylvania
3 articles 0 photos 1 comment

A figure stood on the bank of the river, looking into the darkness at the water’s glassy surface. It was a woman, and she fell to her knees, dropping into the muddy shore. She did not know, however, that someone was watching her. His name was Fininon, and he walked closer as she stared out into the distance.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly as he knelt beside her. She didn’t shy away, or even start, only answered in a soft voice,
“I’ve been like this for so long… I can’t do it anymore.”
“Do what?”
“I’m an inhumane, boy, a soul-sucker as your people so carelessly call me. Ancient as the moon and everlasting as the sky.” She said. Fininon sucked in his breath, startled. He had been taught to fear ones like her.
“What is your name?” He asked.
“Nienna,” she said, gentle like music, “And I should tell you if it were any other night, you would be a soulless shell now.”
“But it isn’t, and I’m not.” Insisted Fininon.
“Ah, but like this river time has a funny way of shifting things, like the tide. Tonight you are safe… tomorrow…. The next day…. Time will go on.” Nienna said, rather darkly.
“I don’t know you… but I have a feeling you’ve been around a long time, and maybe just maybe, there’s something you need to live for.” Fininon said, but Nienna laughed.
“Live for? Oh no, boy, nothing. My keeper, my,” and here she laughed darkly, “Soulmate has died. Now it is nearly my time.” Fininon cried, he didn’t know why. He didn’t know her, had no attachments to her. “But it isn’t a sad occasion. I’m going back to the sea. Back to the waters, to be with him forever. Moving on from this world, and I am glad. I do not know you, boy, but you have cared for me. Even for just this one instant. I thank you for that. Goodbye, now, and do not mourn. But why would you? I’m just a passing soul, and soon forgotten.” She waded into the water, then, a glowing smile on her hauntingly beautiful features. Fininon watched, and as she washed downstream, cold, still, and finally leaving, he stood. He didn’t know her, but he would never forget her. He could never forget that as important as it is to live, to live to the fullest possible, it was also important to die. It was important to be ready, to be happy, even, when the time came. Time goes on, as she had said. And so would he, and so would the sky, and so would the sea she had come from.

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