Whole lands come and go, but Time remembers. Look into her vastness and you might see what has been, or what is yet to come. Who knows what you may see? Only Time, but she says nothing.
For those lucky enough to see this colossal spirit, it is a moment to never be forgotten. But to Time, we are fleeting blinks of her great eyes, flashes of night and day, too rushed and small for her to notice. She sees bigger things, like the birth of mountains or the sinking of a continent, or the bleeding, burning wound from a volcano. How many worlds has she seen? And how many yet to come?