Chapter 1

I had traveled before my origin, furthering myself from my reality to a point back in time where it had not even begun yet. Moving forward never seemed to work out, the mistakes were always bound to repeat themselves, and the inevitable was just as it appeared. Blessed with a great and immense gift, I had long ago decided that if I could not move beyond my mistakes then why not go back and fix them. The ability to move freely through time and with relative ease had its perks and as far as I knew there was not another person in existence who shared the same ability, at least not in my prior existence.

This choice, though, to leave it all behind and start fresh in a different time or times had its downfalls. I would never see my family again, well my immediate family. My brothers Jason and Damian would wonder where I went, my psuedo father would surely turn red from the anger, and Roy would never call me Dickie-Bird again. I'm pretty sure Jason gave me that name but Roy had overheard and it just stuck. To them I would have to be just another stone on the ground, a plaque of a memory that's fond to remember but has to be learned to let go. The choice no matter how much I regretted it was always for the best, I was only burdening my family with something they could never recover. They would not be harmed so long as I stood away from them. Even without them my journey was just commencing, if not all over again, and with my youth I could most definitely handle all that was to come, inexistence was the only obstacle.

Now that I think about it, I have relived my past countless times over, too many to remember but yet I do anyways. My age never altered, forever twenty-three; I have always been tall or tall enough to be counted as such, well-built, with fair skin, enony hair in both style and deep piercing crystal blue eyes that stretch into my core. Handsome I guess one could call me, but never extravagantly so in my opinion.

I'd have to say that luck was in my favor in gaining the ability to time travel given that I have always adored history. In my own time, not much happens since everything has progressed to its maximum potential and there's no further advancement. Some call it a true metropolis, it's known as the Paradise Era, Paradise for short, due to its flawless perfection in every aspect of humanity. Yet, I always found it ironic that even though my people have claimed to be the pinnacle of human society with their unsurpassable intelligence in science and technology, only I was able to time travel through never before thought of means. In fact, I was the only person ever capable of time travel, before me it was thought to be impossible. As I was saying, history has always been my favorite subject. And although one would believe that my people would emphasis its importance, they don't, actually they see it merely as record books of previous mistakes and failures and studying it is frowned upon. That's never stopped me, though, I love it. Perfection is overrated and history gives me a chance to relive adventures, battles, love stories and create my own…well now that I can.

The biggest struggle I inherited with this ability was my reluctance to move on, I always grew attached to people and places and leaving them behind was leaving a piece of me with them. But that would happen no more, in my recent travels I decided that maybe it was time to settle and try living a life and not just watching them. Deciding where and more importantly when was a hassle given the many places and times I had yet to visit. I could have chosen some luxurious time period or even one that was more advanced than most but in the end I chose one that I had never before visited, it never grabbed my interest, and it was for that sole reason of disinterest that I chose it.

I had never before been in love with anybody other than myself and even then I really didn't like myself that much. Love was just an illusion, a plaything that wasn't meant to last or travel the years or go beyond the breach. No love was just a game, a silly one at that, and because of this ignorance I never really expected to fall deep into it, enough so that it changed who I was and had the power to determine where I ended. Funny thing is that the sun doesn't rise in the morning with the promise of a new tomorrow, it rises with the promise that the moon will rise and light shall flee. In the abyss that was my life, a ray of sunshine permeated my cave and the story that came with it was astounding. It never ceased to amaze me that when all hope seemed lost, that when all the odds were against me, when my life seemed as pointless as the history of world itself, because in all sincerity if I was able to go back and change it then there isn't much gain in writing it in the first place, everything suddenly came to an abrupt stop and all time froze over and for once in my miserable existence I was able to see that I had not been reliving the years but watching them pass by like an onlooker who could have been there or could have not and in the end it wouldn't have made much of a difference. And that feeling there is the worst in the universe; it empties the soul and makes a corpse walk the land it no longer belongs to. You can't bring the dead back to life but one thing I did learn is that you can make it feel life once again, if only just that and sometimes that makes all the difference.

I awoke with a headache that rivaled a jackhammer to the warmness of an afternoon sun. Well in that case, warm was putting it mildly given the throbbing pain of travelling while intoxicated. The combination of the two seemed to have doubled the effect of the alcohol running through my system because although I didn't age physically, the alcohol did not have that luxury and also could not distinguish between travelling forward in time or backwards so in effect it aged with the addition or subtraction of the years. Therefore, I had a hangover like none other ever documented.

My eyes persisted in closing shut, the lids heavy, my tongue drier than desert sand. The whole world appeared to spin and I could barely remember the events that led up to my arrival in a time period that I did not recognize. Last night had been my last to live as I pleased with no regard to the consequences of what may happen; it was the last before I began all over again. It had been wild, of course, but as far as I could remember the real danger was in what I couldn't remember. Let's see, I was in Paris, France during the revolution and had a quite interesting conversation with Jacobin and a mild dalliance with Marie Antoinette. For all I know, I could be the reason they got killed in the first place given that Marie seemed to be almost scot-free. I doubt her let them eat cake thing went great now, she probably didn't even say it anymore and historians will never know whether she did or didn't. Back on track, I remember stumbling out of the palace, just evading the royal guards, and entering a bar. One thing led to another and I had a few drinks, next thing I know I'm in Russia surrounded by the Czar and his family in their basement. Something went boom, there was a blinding flash, diamonds scattered all over the floor, a scream or was it a plea for help, and then nothing. I was here and something felt amiss.

But where here was I had no clue, yet looking up from where I laid I could see that where I laid was beautiful. I was in a pastor, the emerald green grass stretching over miles of mountain and terrain. Resting my head I looked to the sky, the echo of the nearby ocean reverberating through my head. The breeze was cool and the clouds resembled cotton of the Egyptian kind. Paradise it seemed, I chuckled at the irony. Nothing could compare or come close to it, not the way I saw and lived it once before.

Feeling the pounding in my head alleviate itself a bit, I stood basking in the morning freshness. If nothing else, the land seemed like a great place to settle down to, all that was left to do was find civilization. Taking a step forward I noticed a field of flowers and as I moved closer to it I saw a figure lying face down in the middle of it. Normally I wouldn't approach the situation and let someone else handle it but there was no one else around so it had seemed odd that somebody would be lying in the middle of nowhere. Cautiously I took a step forward, and then another, holding my breath, the twigs and fallen leaves crushing briskly under my bare feet. It was then that I noticed that my clothing was nothing more than a mere rag of what it used to be, my memory loss plagued me.

The closer I came to the figure, the more obvious it became that this person was a child, a boy to be exact. He was cocooned in a jacket, my jacket, and slumbering away encased in wild flowers. I had never seen anyone more innocent in my life. Kneeling next to him I gently tapped his shoulder. Wide ice blue eyes opened, his little hands rubbing at them, he smiled at me and enveloped me in a hug.

He seemed oddly familiar and was whispering in a language I didn't recognize. I could at least say that he obviously knew me, how though I do not know. It didn't really matter, what mattered was finding civilization. "There, there kiddo," I tried my best to sound comforting, "we best be moving on."

I stood and held out my hand. He looked at me before grabbing it. Up in the distance, over a plantation of hills there was smoke, a good sign of human settlement. We walked in unison, a songbird whistling an all too familiar tune. Something truly was amiss.

AN: Hello everyone. I've been absent from this site for quite a while but now I'm back. However my stay is uncertain and I may be absent for long intervals before updating. Although I do plan on continuing this, consider that at any random point I may drop the story. It's all really a matter of inspiration and motivation. Anyways thanks for reading and please feel free to review.