Hissing, bubbling, and boiling, the water of time underwent its usual midnight stir. Pains of exhaustion sizzled through the nerves of old Tempores, the lord of time, happenings, and occurrences. Although powerful, Tempores was not the average child of Zeus; his continuous labor kept him from mortals’ appreciation. Deep in the mountains of Crete, he devotedly stirred the waters of time through day and through night. Never was there a moment when Tempores was not fearful of what would happen should the water, which regulated progression of time, become stagnant.
Tempores’ work took such a toll on him that his age nearly prevailed over immortality. Never eating, never sleeping, and never dying, he continued on for years without complaint. Other deities, well aware of this, would occasionally toy with ideas about how to exploit his blind diligence. None of these schemes came to fruition, however, until Hera, queen of the gods, was desperate to reverse time itself.
There came a time when Hermes, the messenger god, approached Hera with a noticeably melancholy disposition. “Hera, today I bring unfortunate news that I know will dismay you,” he said.
“Is it Zeus again?” replied the goddess wryly. “What could he be up to this time?”
“No,” replied Hermes. “It’s your bird, the peacock. A reliable source of mine in the Orient relayed to me that disease has been rampant on his side of the world. The most susceptible to illness, apparently, are fowl and creatures that dwell in the air. The worst of it, however…” He trailed off. “My source said that your own peacock species has been entirely wiped out.”
Hera gasped. “Extinct?” she stammered.
“I’m afraid so,” replied the messenger god. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. There’s nothing anyone can do.” He paused, and drew in a breath. “I suppose I’d best be on my way.” In a flash, Hermes took off into the distance.
“Nothing he can do,” muttered Hera, indignant. “Nothing he can do? Oh, I won’t let this happen. I’ll do something. I’ll do everything I can to bring my peacocks back.”
Just at that moment, a thought popped into Hera’s head. What about Tempores, that decrepit old timekeeper? Could the magic in his pot of water be powerful enough to reverse time? If it is, I can surely manipulate it and retrieve my sacred bird.
Slowly, a grin crawled across Hera’s lips. “Yes,” she murmured to herself. “Yes. This will work; I’m sure it will. All I will need is some quick action, and another deity to help me.”
As nighttime draped its blanket over the mountains of Crete, Tempores’ world remained untouched. The old man stirred the water of time, just as he had every other night of his existence. Softly, a breeze blew past, carrying a scent of pine and wildlife into the gloomy cave. Yet none of this reached Tempores, who had long since given up his attention to the life around him.
All of a sudden, a shimmering light grew from the entrance of the cave. A light humming noise rose to a blissful melody. With a trumpet’s blast, the goddess Aphrodite appeared in the cave of Tempores, most occupied and distracted of all gods.
Aghast, Tempores turned his gaze from the bubbling water. As if in a trance, he relaxed his grip on his ladle, allowing it to slip through his calloused fingers.
“Greetings, my Tempores,” said Aphrodite sweetly. Her words alone nearly made Tempores’ heart stop. “Hera says you must see the beauty of the world. I thought I’d be suited to show you; I, after all, am the goddess of beauty.”
Tempores, stupefied, could barely comprehend what was happening. Aphrodite’s presence made his mind swim. Repeatedly the word “beauty” rang through his head.
“Yes,” he sputtered, “Show me the beautiful world!”
“Let us begin,” said Aphrodite with a smile. At once, a window of light was fashioned by a flourish of her fingertips. The goddess seized Tempores’ hand and pulled him through the window, into the most pleasant forests and mountains that Mother Earth had to offer.
Not once did it occur to Tempores that by departing with Aphrodite, he left alone his cauldron of water. For the first time in terrestrial history, the waters of time stood stagnant.
Not long afterward, Hera slipped into the cave of old man Tempores. Eerie silence occupied the mountain cavern, filling Hera with apprehension. She knew that the timekeeper had dwelt there for his entire life, but no signs of tenancy were to be found. Nonetheless, the never-perishing pot of boiling water resided in the center of the cavern. A few feet away rested a large cast-iron ladle.
Hesitantly, Hera approached the cauldron and peered deep into the liquid. At once she realized that by looking into the water of time, she could view scenes of people from all across the nations. Her mind racing, Hera thought about her beloved peacock. Oh, how can I manipulate this water? I can feel its power, but cannot access my beloved birds!
Hera was stunned to see images of peacocks materialize in the water, as if in direct response to her thoughts. With fervor she thrust her right hand into the liquid in an attempt to carry a bird out into reality. To the goddess’ dismay, her efforts resulted simply in the creation of a puddle coming from the splash. Distraught and grief-stricken, Hera turned and began to walk away.
Then Hera’s ears detected a noise. Paranoid, she spun around only to notice two peacocks, exactly where the puddle had been. Overcome with triumph, Hera shouted for joy. “I knew it would work! I knew that this water had power! I knew it!” The peacock and peahen fluttered to her shoulders, recognizing Hera at once. “Now,” she whispered to the two birds, “peacocks will repopulate and never again be erased. I will make sure of that.”
After his hour-long excursion with Aphrodite, Tempores appeared right where he was before – in his cave, nestled in the mountains of Crete. Impulsively, he snatched the iron ladle and rushed to his cauldron. He stirred with all his might, and the water of time moved like it never had before. Only then did Tempores begin to realize that the water had remained lifeless for an entire hour. Slowing his pace, Tempores wondered, what happened to the waters? What happened to the progression of time? Did it slow, or did it quicken? Could it have stopped and later resumed? Oh, if only I had not been persuaded by that Aphrodite! Surely she was trying to prevent me from stirring this pot.
Neither Tempores nor Hera would ever know the full extent of what had happened that night. In reality, the water’s stagnancy caused an effect never before endured by humankind. Time did not stop – it simply replayed events from the past. While Tempores toured the outside world and Hera rescued her darling peacocks, everyone else experienced the very first déjà vu. From that time forward, Tempores never feared to relax for a while; little did he know of the untapped power held by the water of time.
