(A small adventure)

“Wait wait wait. You’re not meant to be here cuz -.”

“Sleep.”

Jay hits the ground unconscious. He is young. A child, and nothing more next to my power. I reach into parts and places Jay doesn’t know are him, draw power to remain in this place. Listen. Learn. Move.

It is the nature of things to break. Time as much as space.

The target is not hiding. Not that there is anyone here who could hide from me. He is holding groceries in one hand, a phone in the other.

“Human.”

He stops, stares. I came out of thin air between moments. People are running away. No one has ever run like this from Jay; he would not understand.

“My name is Tom, you – you –.” He stops. He doesn’t say my name. “You are twelve,” he whispers as the knowing comes to him.

“You caused Jay to ask for aid. Claimed you were missing your bit of – him.” I don’t use the word he would use. Jay is eleven, innocent and kind. I am none of those things.

“It was –. I was –.”

“I do not care.”

There is a magician. Power drawing up behind me. I unmake them with a thought. Tom stares at me. He does not speak, not in words, but a question hovers about him.

He looks away rather than face me. He speaks a name, trying for aid, and is unmade before he can voice it.

*

There is space, but no time. Time is not still. Walking moving around Tom. Pale. Neither male nor female, old nor young. All beginnings and endings are in the steps of this Power, and most moments between as well.

“My name is Winter, if you must give me one. The entity known as Jayseltosche was brought here by time breaking. It allowed me to undo what he did. I am not certain he knew. I am less certain he cared at all. You exist again only because of that. I do not know if it is a mercy.” Winter turns. There are black holes dying in his eyes. “Do not play at such games again. I have restored balance. It is what I do. I am nothing of justice, and less of mercy.”

*

Jay appears. As Jay always would, and always was. He is eleven, trenchcoated, radiating worry. “You said you’d lost your jaysome so I’ve come to help find it!

And you say: ‘I am fine.’

And Jay believes you, because a world where he won’t – you know where it leads. What he calls, by an accident formed from worry. He grins, huge and relieved. He hugs you and is gone.

And he is not twelve. And he is not yet twelve. And that knowing is enough to find all the lost jaysome in the world that ever was.