There was once a watch. It was an ordinary watch, just like any other watch. It kept time perfectly, and like any watch it had hands and a face. It rested on the arm of a wonderful person, but one day it was lost. It is most plausible that it fell off the arm of the owner, or was knocked off a table at some point, but whether it fell or was knocked it still somehow ended up in the middle of nowhere.

It lay on the ground, alone in the desolate concrete jungle that was the city, and although it was knocked around by the many vehicles, it was a single, solitary drop of rain that caused its demise. For, you see, it had been knocked onto the side of a bridge, and that single drop of rain and hit in just the right spot for it to have been knocked right off the edge into the raging river that ran beneath.

It had fallen down into the depths of that river, and was carried down the river so far that is would never return to its owner again. It was carried (it seemed) forever, and slowly, as time went by, the ticking of the clock slowed, and the very purpose of the small watch began to fade away.

It washed up on a shore in the far west, and an old woman was pacing on the beach. She happened to look down and see the watch, so lonely in the sand. She looked down and saw a sad and lonely soul, half gone in death. She picked it up and brought it back to her small cottage, where she cleaned it and cared for it, like any other watch. When she was finished it was good as new, except for the still dying tick of the hands.

She felt pity for it, and that night she used a magic so powerful the watch became whole again. Now it was an enchanted watch, you could almost see the humanity in the small object. It became alive, but it was different.

For years the old woman kept the watch a secret, for its power was more than even her knew, but there was a time where she too lost the watch somehow, and again it ended up on the edge of a bridge, but this time its demise never came, this time it had the power to call someone to it. A young girl looked down and saw something glinting in the sunlight. She walked over and saw the little watch. She took it home and never lost it.

Then one night, as it sat on the bedside table, it began to glow. The girl, still awake in her bed, looked up and watched the dancing colors emitting from the watch. Then she looked at the watch itself. The glow had been small, but as time past it grew. The ceiling of the young girl's room swam with color, and her eyes filled with wonder. 

This went on for weeks, and never was the girl more happy than when she saw the dancing lights on her ceiling. The beauty of their glowing ballet was wonderful and gave her happiness, so much happiness that it began to take it away. Everyday less and less of the girl remained as the power of the watch sucked her life source away. She looked now into the watch's eye and saw despair, and saw darkness beyond even the imagination of the demons which haunted her dreams.

Her eyes darkened, and her mind went blank, soon she was nothing but a mindless slave to the watch's power, for you see, the watch wasn't just enchanted. It wasn't just fixed, it was reborn, but it remembered the river, and remembered why the rust was there. It remembered how it was lost, and it could not forget the owner which had lost it. A grudge began to form, and now it searches for the owner, trying to get back at her with the will power of its evil.

The watch became a powerful relic, and was passed through the fabrics of time, leaving nothing but death and despair in its wake. It was passed by hand and by nothing but the will of its power, and forever it will search. It will search the very depths of the human soul and the depths of the world to find its lost master. It will forever wander... the world...