Reset

Archer looked upon the ruins of Alcione. He recalled every bit of fight, every detail thrown around a month earlier. The bloodshed was impossible to overlook for everyone. Especially for him.

He felt empty—dead. He might as well have been killed along with all the others. His comrades, his friends. Her.

Austin told him something once, not long ago. It all comes down to the love of a woman.

Archer didn't believe him back then, he'd never been in love before. Then again, he had never met Ember until a few months ago.

Her image was present and alive in his mind. The memories he had of her, all tingled with ache, pain, and most recently, loss. Every argument, every glance, every breath, touch—kiss. He'd never feel it again... that's what they wanted. They all wanted him to let go—so the first two weeks, after the bloody battle, they left him alone to grieve. Later, Archer showed no inclination to move on so, the rest of his friends, the ones that had survived, and even the Elders decided to erase his memory about Ember.

It had worked. He had lived with holes in his brain, black spots in its corners. A hole in his heart, there had been nothing he could do.

Until he looked in the mirror and saw that on his left ear, where he'd always had two, little, black studs—there was only one. Then, all hell broke loose.

And now... now they were about to witness the fruits of their making. He was an Orien—a Descendent of Apollo. He had power like any other one Descendent, but not even he could turn back time. None of them possessed such God-like power. Even if they descended from Gods.

"Archer!" There it is, he thought numbly, the Salvation Army. "What are you doing up here? It's dangerous right now. We could've missed a Nocturnal!"

"They won't come in here, it's a holly place. Remember, Thea?" He spoke, bothering little to glance over his shoulder.

There were cautious steps on top of the marble floor. Breeches painted a lot of spots, as Thea made her way to her honey-haired friend, she did her best not to step on them. They were bad luck.

Her lilac eyes shifted quickly to the giant, crystal like cross. It had once hung on the marble temple wall, but now, laid broken amidst rubble, as many of bodies.

"The cross is broken, it's not holly anymore, Archer." Thea's words slipped outside softly, like she was barely speaking them, more like thinking them.

A split second was all it took for Archer's lilac-crystal eyes to shift from the intake clock tower to the cross. Thea gave him a little smile when he acknowledged her.

"Oh, yeah. You're right," Was all he mumbled.

Thea felt it before he did it. But she didn't stop him; she was too awed—too curious and intrigued about what he was going to do.

With an experiment use of his agility, Archer jumped high. Really high. To the top of the Clock tower, like he had flown.

He was settled right in front of it... the Clock.

From up-close he could feel—rather than hear—the pendulum moving forward, counting the minutes away. His life without her away.

With each tic-toc his heart yielded to misery and pain Archer had never known, not even when he'd lost his parents. This was a whole new level of suffering. It was as if part of him had been cut from within.

No one should touch the Clock. It kept the balance in the whole World—in all the dimensions besides Earth. It was the Watcher's job to keep watch over it. But they weren't here now. Even if they were, they wouldn't be able to stop him. He was doing this. He'd made up his mind long ago.

Thea slit her eyes against the increasing sun light, using her heightened vision—they widened when she saw Archer's hand.

"No! Archer!" She called, snapping from her stupor. "You can't touch it, no one besides the Watchers can! You'll end up—"

"Dead?" He yelled downwards, hand inches from the giant hour-pointer. "Then let it kill me! Let it strip my life away, Thea! Because I can't take it—I just can't!" He bellowed in total despair.

Down below, the curled haired teen stepped back from the intensity of her friend's voice.

"You... you..."

Archer closed his eyes momentarily, then snapped them open.

"Yes, I remember Ember." Archer declared strongly, with the slightest hint of dismay. "I guess that potion wasn't all that powerful or maybe you didn't count my love for her would be this strong. Either way," He snorted. "I can't live without her, because even when the potion was working... even if I couldn't remember why—I still felt empty—I still felt it. Taking her away doesn't fix it."

The sky was opening, the clouds parting as more intense sun rays shone down from above. They were some of the hotter ones in a whole month, not that Archer felt hot, his body was resistant to it.

The shimmer growing on the Clock's tower top made it hard for Thea to keep track of Archer's movements, her eyes were too sharp, therefore highly sensitive.

Neptune's beard! She cursed inwardly, some times being a Venator was awful.

And she was afraid, very.

But even if she tried to stop him, it wouldn't be worth the shot. Archer was among the best of them. He wasn't someone to be rivaled with. Much less when he found himself in such broken state of heart.

All she could do was talk to him. Try and make him see reason—he could die. It wasn't worth throwing his life away, not when Ember had given so much to save it.

"You think I don't want her back? Not only Ember—Heather, Roy—all of them? I do! But they're dead, they won't come back. You have to accept it, Archer." She cried to the tall stone tower, angry tears burning in the back of her eyes as she thought of the people she'd grown up with. "They... they gave their lives to save Alcione. Ember gave her life for you, because she wanted you to have a chance at happiness, now you're throwing it away?" Thea shook her head, with it, her rust curls danced in the air. "You can't! What would she tell you right now? Have you thought about that, hmm?"

Archer knew Thea for a long time. They'd grown up together, trained together, learned—they were like family. All of them were, and if he went through with this, they would soon be again—with another member though, Ember would be with them.

"I know," He whispered to himself, then to her, spoke loud and clear. "I love her," A chord in his heard burned, as if acid had been dropped upon it.

He'd never told her, that he loved her, or he had, but she was... no longer alive. She died not hearing it.

"She never heard me say it, Thea. I loved her—I love her—" He reinforced. "And she died for me."

Her eyes widened.

The yell was lost in a sea of blinding light. White light.

All of a sudden, the atmosphere was lighter, he felt nothing beneath him, nothing surrounding him. His body was... floating. He couldn't fly, he didn't have that power.

So, how in the world...?

Archer pried his eyelids apart, hesitantly, because he'd see the sudden change of illumination. Obviously, the white flare didn't' hurt his eyes—something that was part of him couldn't hurt, but sometimes he forgot. Now, it was duller, like he was floating in a room all painted in pure snow.

For a moment, Archer pondered if this was what it was like to be dead. But it couldn't be, surely, there had been no pain.

"Archer Venturi," His body attempted to jerk, turn around to search for the source of the deep, echoing voice that seemed to break itself in three different tones. He could move nothing, his body was completely immobile. "Archer Venturi," It repeated, this time, the boy tried nothing, simply remained still moving his eyes all around the mass of whiteness. "You have broken a rule. To touch the Clock of Chronos... Its considered an offense—forbidden, is it not?"

Archer didn't feel his cocky demeanor—though, it wasn't a big surprise, since he hadn't been cocky since...

"Answer son of Apollo!"

Archer was used to being called 'Son of Apollo' by other creatures, the ones that hissed or shrieked at his presence, but this once, he was lost in thought. Wondering who was speaking to him—

"I am the Oracle of Time. I reside in the Clock of Chronos since its creation. It is my job to maintain the continuity of time in all the dimensions." There was a pause, giving a stunned Archer time to realize what was happening.

There was no voice coming to his audio senses. It was echoing inside his mind.

"Yes, it is true, Archer Venturi. Yet, I still request an answer. Is it not true that touching the Clock is strictly forbid, except to the Watchers, when it's requested of them?"

Archer blinked before thinking his own answer, since the Oracle could read his thoughts.

"Yes,"

"You are also aware it's deadly, if I wish it?"

A light shiver crawled over his spine, like a slinky snake. Snap out of it, he told himself.

"Yes," He thought once more.

With his trained senses, the teenager heard the blood pumping aggressively through his veins.

"Well then, this leads me to wonder... why did you touch it? Do you wish for death?" The voices hissed.

The bells rang in his head. There was a moment when he nearly thought 'yes' but caught himself on time. He didn't have a death wish. Not if this worked.

"No, I don't." Archer breathed more calmly when he drew his eyes closed once more. "I wish... for another thing."

"And what might that be, young one?"

Archer felt the muscles of his back contract on their own, the anxiety was building inside of him.

"I want to turn back time." It was a whispered, fleeting thought. Not at all like he'd planned it to sound. "I want to turn back time," He did again, this time with firmer conviction. "So I can stop Ember from dying."

Archer thought he was sleeping and having a very vivid dream of flying, it happened sometimes. There was no response from the Time Oracle—which worried him. Was he going to turn him down and eradicate him?

Of all the things he waited for, he surely didn't wait for a giant torrent of laughter, ringing in his brain, making him get a massive jumbo-headache.

Clapping his hands over his ears was impossible, he still couldn't move, but even if it was possible, it would do no good. The laugh was inside, not out.

When it finally died down, Archer was able to un-scrunch his face.

"A girl," The triple voices said. "You are here wanting to turn time around, risking your life—for a girl?" The voices resounded a little bit longer, until he could think.

"She's not a girl—she's Ember, she's a Descendent—a Natura. She died for—"

"I know who she is boy, do not take me for an ignorant mortal. I see all that was, is, and will be. I know who Ember Mercury was. And there is no future for her. As you very well know, she is dead."

No, Archer debated. It couldn't be, it wouldn't just be over like this. He wasn't about to give up without a fight.

He was Archer Venturi. He was persuasive, he was stubborn—he could do anything he wanted. He wouldn't give up.

"She can live again, all you have to do is send me back in time! That way I can stop it from happening—"

A growl of sorts made Archer flinch inwardly.

"Foolish boy!" They roared. "It does not work like that. I cannot send you back in time. That is not possible."

Growing angry, Archer's eyes opened. There was nothing for him to deliver the stare to, but somewhere he knew, the Oracle could see it.

"Then turn time around! Let me save her, I have to. I love her!" He yelled inside and outside his mind.

Archer was taken aback by his own behavior. He was resorting to begging, and he never begged, not once. But for Ember, he would do it. Not just for her, Heather and Roy...

"Love," The Oracle echoed mockingly. "You ask me to turn time around for a feeling so frail, so fleeting among you mortals." This time there was the equivalent of a sigh, probably from all of Archer's thought projections. "You have lived nothing. Nineteen years is the amount of time you have walked the Earth. That is nothing. You have no experiences. Yet, you want to risk the fate of all dimensions for a girl you met months ago—a girl you claim to love?"

There were no more thoughts, no musings. Archer only knew the word:

"Yes,"

If he didn't know any better, he'd say the Oracle was taking some pleasure in all of his preservation.

"Very well, Son of Apollo," Archer's eyes glinted furiously with renewed fire and hope— "But heed this, once I turn back time everything will be reset."

Archer managed a decent frown in the middle of all the growing excitement.

"Reset?"

"Yes," It said. "If you believe that by turning back time you will be able to save Ember Mercury, then I will turn time around before you met her. You will have no memory of her, of what happened after finding her, you will not know the mistakes you committed or didn't. You won't know of the battle, you won't know the outcome. You will know nothing."

"But... she won't know me, I won't know her. Everything will happen again and she'll—"

"Die?" It suggested a little cruelly. "Most likely yes, she will. History will repeat itself, or perhaps, you'll do things differently this time."

"How can I do that, if I won't remember what didn't go right?" Archer breathed brusquely, annoyed, by all the physics this seemed to involve, he'd never been a fan of those. Maybe because most of what he did defied the laws of it.

Another few laughs cramped Archer's mind.

"That is up to you, you have free will, like any other human. You will have a choice." The Oracle explained clearly. "And if you do make the same mistakes again, I will bring you back here—and kill you."

Archer moved his lips, he thought he was being fast, but it turned out the darkness bridging into his eyes was quicker.