Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
2
Timed Arrow
GROANING as he felt the familiar shape of his lover sliding
between his thighs, Achilles craned his neck, trying to see
Patroclus in the dim light streaming between the tent flaps.
It was morning, not yet sunrise, and Patroclus was already
having his first meal of the day.
 Achilles. Patroclus wound an arm around his lover s
waist, drawing the young blond man closer.  Will you not
fight today?
 I have given my word. Achilles s voice and member
hardened, pushing back against Patroclus so their bodies
were in undulating rhythm.  I will have no part in this war
since I have been wronged.
 Will you not fight for me? Patroclus breathed, kissing
the crook of Achilles s neck where he knew it was most
sensitive.  Is the taking of your princess more important
than fighting shoulder to shoulder with your lover?
Achilles inhaled deeply, sensing the jealousy rising in
Patroclus. He pulled away and turned over, sliding
Patroclus s spear between his thighs again. He caressed
Patroclus s cheek, feeling the dark, smooth hairs that had
grown in rough battle. His eyes sought out Patroclus,
showing the man what he truly desired.
 It is not a matter of property, Patroclus, but having
what is mine. Achilles pressed a kiss to Patroclus s lips,
drinking in the sweet and bitter nectar of morning.  I must
put a stop to Agamemnon taking what is mine, lest he take
you as well.
Achilles could see the realization in Patroclus s eyes, a
light of understanding, and then disbelief knitting his brows.
 You think that Agamemnon would take me next?
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
3
 I would not put it past the brute, Achilles sighed,
pressing their lips together again and this time plundering
from Patroclus, his tongue pushing in and entangling,
wanting to brand the man with his own scent, and only his.
The kiss deepened, lengthening until they were both
struggling for breath and taking only from each other, hands
clawing desperately to touch and feel more. The thrusts of
Patroclus against Achilles made him reach a fevered state,
wanting more of their coupling. Achilles gasped for air, his
own hips rutting back, his own needy erection rubbing up
against Patroclus, leaking a clear sweet water which claimed
Patroclus as his.  If I could, I would ask the gods to rid the
world of all mankind, so that you only belong to me.
Agamemnon and everyone will learn that no one takes what
is mine without consequences.
His words inflamed Patroclus, each thrust heightening
his pleasure. There was a final jerk of his body, and
Patroclus gave a loud cry as he came, white cum spilling like
a waterfall against the rocks of Achilles s thighs. In turn,
Achilles shifted so his own member was now between
Patroclus s legs. He held on to Patroclus, thrusting swiftly
and hitting his peak just as his cock head brushed up
against Patroclus s buttocks, his seed marking his lover. The
two warriors fell back into sleep, satisfied to lounge with
arms and legs tangled around each other as the sun crept
into the sky.
 PATROCLUS! A loud shout came from outside the tent some
hours later. It took some time before Patroclus could free
himself from Achilles s grip, stumbling outside the tent with
sleep not yet gone from his eyes. The soldier saluted him.
 The Trojans are advancing on our ships. They have torches
and I fear the worst. Our forces are having trouble holding
them back.
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
4
 Torches? Patroclus frowned, placing a hand on the
soldier s shoulder.  Are you certain? They mean to burn our
ships? We must go to defend at once. Round up our men.
Patroclus turned to reenter the tent, Achilles having
woken up from the anxious voice of his lover. Patroclus
started pulling on his tunic, and the shine of Achilles s
armor caught his eye. He turned to press a sweet kiss on his
young lover s lips.  You will not do battle, and I will not ask
that of you. But will you lend me your armor? So that our
enemies shall cower before me and& . It shall be a token of
your love for me.
Achilles beamed at the honeyed words from his lover s
lips, sweeter than the most skilled harpist.  Take it,
Patroclus. And know that my blessing goes with you. Had my
property not been snatched from my very hands, I should
join you as well. Come back at once when they have been
driven away. No later. Know that it is not out of cowardice or
belittlement that I give this order.
 I know you are no coward. Patroclus smiled, donning
the armor, which fit slightly tight on him. Achilles stood up,
coming to help Patroclus into the battle-hardened shin
guards.  You are doing what you must to honor what was
yours. And I will do what I must to honor you in turn.
A kiss goodbye, and Achilles reclined on the skins, still
fresh with the scent of his best friend and lover. Achilles was
able to settle back into sleep, for he had no doubts that
Patroclus would return. The man was in every way his
match. Though Achilles was stronger, Patroclus was a more
experienced warrior, less brash and more thoughtful.
Achilles smiled, picturing his lover defending the ships with
his armor on, like a god descended from the heavens
themselves.
 Achilles! The cry of a soldier sometime later jolted him
awake. Achilles ran out of the tent at the trembling voice,
guessing that the ships were now on fire and his lover
needed his help. Even though he had refused to fight, if it
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
5
came down to it, Achilles would have lent a hand to his
lover.
 Patroclus! Patroclus. He is& he is dead.
Time stopped. Achilles stood still, staring at the soldier
in disbelief. The man held his gaze, then turned away, the
sadness etched in his eyes telling Achilles this was real. It
wasn t a dream. How many times had he slept in fear of
waking up without Patroclus by his side?
 Patroclus. Achilles sank to his knees, legs which had
trampled men underfoot now covered in dust.  Patroclus,
Achilles groaned, the roar of a warrior diminished to a sob.
 Patroclus. Achilles covered his sun-kissed face with
regretful hands, wanting to caress his friend s warm cheek
once more.
There was the sound of marching in the distance, and
as it came closer, Achilles lifted up his face to see hair which
he had just touched adorning the body being carried in by
his men.  Patroclus. Achilles stumbled forward until he was
once again embracing his friend, a hand lifting up his
beloved s head as he gazed onto closed eyes.
 Such a sight! He drove the Trojans away from our ships
and onto the very walls of Troy itself! All their men would not
have been able to strike him down were it not for a sudden
blinding of the sun reflected off the wall. And only then could
Hector slay him, a mouthy soldier whispered, Achilles
overhearing.
Lifting up Patroclus, Achilles walked with him into their
tent and their bed, where mere hours ago they had tumbled
in love. Time held no more weight for Achilles.
 You had no thought for my worship of your thighs, no
thanks for our unending kisses, Achilles reproached,
holding Patroclus close to him.  Have you forgotten your
promise to always fight beside me in battle?
His eyes misted over, and he leaned down, kissing the
lips of his beloved, still wearing his armor. From the
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
6
distance, he heard the battle cry. The Trojans had redoubled
their forces, either thinking Achilles had fallen because of
the armor Patroclus wore or knowing that Patroclus had
fallen and Achilles would be grief-stricken.
 I will wear your amour into battle, like you have worn
mine. Know that I will keep your promise for you. Achilles
stood up, forcing a smile for his friend as he pulled on the
armor in his place. Grabbing his sword, Achilles s lips set in
a straight line, vowing vengeance on the evil that had killed
the keeper of his heart.
Slashing through the swarming men proved far easier
than usual, as if time had stopped for him. He had never
dwelled on the lives of the men he killed, but now, as he cut
through the throng, more than once did he think about how
they must have lived. It was a detached observation when he
noted that most of the men facing him were either too young
or too old for battle. The war had raged on long enough to
have massive casualties of young men on both sides. He saw
the gleam of a strong blade in the distance, and Achilles
realized who it was.
 Hector! Achilles yelled, seeing the man who slain his
beloved. Dodging arrows and swords, cutting down anyone
who stood in his way, Achilles soon stood toe to toe with the
fulfillment of his vengeance. The clanging of their swords
sounded the start of warrior against wearied general.
Achilles could see the strain in his enemy s eyes from days of
standing with his men, while Achilles himself had refrained
from battle because of Agamemnon s taking of his property.
 So, the young colt has finally come to avenge his
gelding? Hector laughed, blocking each of Achilles s blows.
Hector knew what Achilles had come here for, and there was
no remorse in his eyes for having killed Patroclus.
 I will slay you now! Achilles bellowed in fury, bringing
his sword down on Hector s left shoulder. The general fell
with a cry, and Achilles raised his sword, slashing right
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
7
through the heart of his lover s killer, vengeance spilling on
the ground. The light was dimming from Hector s eyes as he
fell, dust rising up. Achilles blinked, raising his eyes away
from the irritant only to be blinded by a reflection from the
wall, the sun god Apollo helping the Trojans once again.
In that moment, his ears picked out the sound of an
arrow being released.
A loud groan left Achilles s lips as an arrow pierced his
heel. Falling forward in the armor of Patroclus, Achilles
breathed his last before his body met the blood-drenched
sands.  Patroclus.
 ACHILLES? Patroclus straightened up from the bed he had
been lying on, looking into the distant rolling fields where he
thought he had heard his lover s cry. Not spotting the blond
hair of his lover, he sighed, relaxing back on the bed. A clear
stream ran by him, its waters rustling the reeds. His life had
always been a never-ending march with parched lips,
thirsting for relief. So in death, he now chose to lie beside
flowing waters, enjoying the smell of grass in the sway of the
wind.
Patroclus had been sure he d heard Achilles s voice.
There was no other sound like that of his shout in this world
or the previous one. He stood up, deciding a walk to clear his
mind would help him relax again, realizing he was probably
too anxious about their meeting. It was contradicting; he
wanted to see Achilles and not see him at the same time.
Having Achilles near him would make his heart feel like it
was in the heat of battle again, full of vigor and passion. But
to see him too soon would mean Achilles had been felled.
 Patroclus, a voice said from above him, and Patroclus
looked up to see a man with wings at his ankles descending
from the skies.
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
8
 Hermes? Patroclus s eyes widened at one of the first
otherworldly beings he had seen since his arrival here.
 Not Hermes, no. The blond man smiled with a twinkle
in his eye.  But I am a messenger as well. One of his
assistants, if you will. There are too many messages for one
to deliver alone.
 And you have come to give me one? From the gods?
Patroclus was in awe of the flying messenger. He was not a
man of any importance to converse with the gods
themselves. Or even their messenger. Patroclus was under
no delusions about his stature.
 Yes, it comes from& well, Zeus himself, the man said,
snapping his fingers and making a scroll appear. He
unfurled it, golden symbols glowing on its page.  It is written
in the language of the gods; allow me to read it for you.
 Brave Warrior Patroclus, who sacrificed himself for his
brethren, your bravery has touched us, and thus we deliver
unto you our clemency. Achilles, the man who you so loved,
has passed on in what was once your world.
Patroclus inhaled sharply at the news, sadness rushing
through him at having his lover die and happiness at their
forthcoming reunion edging it. It felt too soon, even though
time did not pass here. Perhaps it had sped up in the world
below? He held the vain wish that Achilles had died old,
contented, and warm in bed. The messenger cleared his
throat, continuing to read.
 However, you will not see hide nor hair of him here. His
soul, his essence, his very being has been bound, smithed
into the very metal of the arrow that felled him. It was the
light of Apollo that felled him and also the heat of Apollo that
binds him.
 What? That s outrageous! Patroclus yelled, rushing
forward to the messenger.  What does this mean? Achilles is
bound to earth? Is that it? He can t come here?
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
9
The messenger nodded, continuing,  Apollo s anger
must be undone on your world and by his own hand. There
exists no method in our age to counteract the curse that
keeps Achilles trapped. We have visited the Fates. They have
seen a way out, but it is a slim chance. If you are willing to
risk it, swim against the river that brought you here, back
the way whence you came. The gates you entered from will
deliver you into a new life, and the way will be opened unto
you. The messenger rolled up the message, looking
cautiously at Patroclus.
Patroclus nodded, already walking toward the river. No,
running. He broke into a full-out sprint toward the sparkling
waters that wound their way through the fields. The
messenger took to the skies, keeping pace and quickly
catching up.  You are going?
 Achilles would have done the same for me. Patroclus
smiled, stripping naked and diving in, his body parting the
deep waters. He had chosen a spot as close to the gates as
possible, but even then the distance looked like it stretched
to eternity. The waters were cold, threatening to drown him.
The flash of gold from the shore told him the messenger was
running alongside his attempt at rebirth.
Patroclus had never been as good a swimmer as
Achilles, but he held his own. Each stroke brought him
closer to his friend; the waters that splashed into his eyes
stung even more than saltwater. His heart thumped louder
and louder, a force telling him to stay where the fields were
warm and green. The water here sparkled but was murky
beneath, a deceptive draw into its frigid temperature.
With a final plunge forward, Patroclus passed under the
wrought iron gates that had ushered him here, sputtering
into a bright light that blinded him. His future was uncertain
except for the only man he held onto, imprinting his face as
his last thought.
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
10
 PADRAIG McKenzie, it s 0200 hours and we are just about
to initiate for launch, Padraig said into the built-in intercom
of his suit. His back hurt from lying without moving for the
past few hours. Red status updates flashed across the black
screen above him. He placed his hand back at his side, the
movement jerky due to the lack of space in the slim white
container. It had been built small so there would be as few
complications as possible when he traveled through the time
hole.
Today was the day when the first man would attempt
time travel. He smiled, heart swelling at the fulfillment of his
project. It had taken him many years and all of their minds
to complete a working time machine. They had started by
transporting fleas and slowly worked their way up to a
chimpanzee. There had been many sacrifices along the way,
and Padraig would be the first man sent forward. He was
going for the big one. His heart thumped, drawing him to the
date he had set on the screen, far into the distant future, for
a man he had seen in his dreams.
It had been an unquenchable thirst since he was young,
the sense that something was missing in his childhood
lingering on until he was a teenager. Padraig had friends,
but he never really connected with them as much as with the
man he had seen in dreams. They had practiced fighting and
then ridden into battle together. His daily life had paled in
comparison, and so he had secluded himself in his room,
reading books to fill the void he felt. Science and technology,
mathematics and philosophy, Padraig devoured them all at
an incredible pace. He was never one for literature, but a
collision with a blond classmate outside the library had
caused their books to be exchanged.
Greek Mythologies: Reality or Fiction. He could still
remember well when he turned to the page on Achilles. His
heart had sped up with every word read, a constriction in his
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
11
throat that felt like it would strangle him. This was what had
been missing, Padraig knew without a doubt as the story
unfolded in front of him. From their childhood, to the
relationship they shared, until the end, when Achilles fell.
Everything felt familiar, like he had experienced it all before
and not just in a dream. A stab ran through his heart as
paintings of Achilles s death were shown on the pages.
Images in his mind flickered past, showing him the man s
final moments. Were they his imagination or something else?
His fingers lingered over the picture of the fatal arrow, which
was kept in a glass case in a museum.
Padraig had gasped for air, getting to his feet as he
stumbled toward his laptop, rapidly pulling up as much
information as he could. It took him well into the early
morning of the next day to read through everything he could
find about Achilles and Patroclus. He had fallen asleep at his
desk, and then the dream had come once again, but this
time, at the end, it had guided him on his future actions.
 McKenzie, come in McKenzie. The power has reached
maximum limit. Ready when you are. The voice crackling
over the speakers shook him from thoughts of his past. It
had been a long slog, studying to get to where he was today
with the time-travel initiative, but he had made it.
 Preparing for time warp in three, two, one, Padraig
said, hitting the red button that would take him where no
man in his time had gone before.
The machine gave a rumble, and briefly, the lights
flashed out. Everything was quiet, and then there was a
tremendous lurching feeling as Padraig felt himself being
dragged and squeezed. A crushing weight pressed down on
his body, even though he could see the container and it
looked its usual size. A sharp pain tore through his head,
down his body, into his toes. A loud scream escaped from
Padraig s mouth, and he blacked out.
He woke up a while later, unsure of how long he had
been passed out. So, he was still alive. Padraig let out a sigh
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
12
of relief, moving his fingers and toes to examine the damage.
They were all still in working order. After a quick system
check, he deployed the camera to survey his surroundings.
They had been specific in the time period to end up in.
The sole reason he was here rested in the canister built into
the side of the time-travel machine. There was a static,
shaky image drawn up on the screen. It was of the night sky
and its milling stars, cast with an orange glow from a sun
near its dying days. He started up the sequence to test his
surroundings, the camera swiveling to look around.
As expected, the earth was scorched. Time goal had
been set for billions of years in the future. Padraig let out a
sigh of relief at having arrived safely and that the heat
insulators were working. The land temperature registered at
just a low-enough level for him not to be charred to a crisp.
A quick press of the unlock button and he slid out, feet
hitting the bright orange sand, which was glowing from the
heat of the red dwarf sun.
There was a small window for him to work with. The
warp drives had not been perfected for him to stay too long
here. He pulled out the container that held the arrow. It had
taken a hard bargain and a generous sponsor to obtain it,
with promises of artifacts from the future to go to their
museum. The arrow looked golden in the cast of the sun.
Carefully, he set the container down, pulling out all the other
equipment he needed. There wasn t much time because of
the temperature. His suit had been built to withstand the
heat, but even so, only so much cooling could be done and
the air seeping in was heated.
Some of the equipment was for recording, taking
samples and pictures of the landscape. Others were for one
sole purpose: to charge up the arrow and break the curse
that had settled on it, using the power of Apollo at its
strongest. Padraig s gloved hands worked to set up the
tripod, hanging the arrow on a scale in the middle. He had
calculated and calibrated it so it would be at the perfect
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
13
angle and time for the moment when the earth would be
engulfed by sun in totality.
It had been specified in the dream. Everything had been
laid out for him: what he should do, how he should do it.
The dream had also warned that he would perish here.
Padraig had no fear. He was willing to risk it all for an old
friend, to free him from the shackles that kept him bound.
His fellow researchers had, of course, warned him about
the foolishness of this little pet project. If the arrow was left
alone, it would be destroyed in the future anyway, so there
was no reason to bring it along, even if there was truth to his
crazed dreams. But Padraig had never been one to leave his
life up to fate, and there was no confirmation that the arrow
would be in this direct spot where his calculations showed
that a wormhole would be opened. The resulting difference in
temperature would cause an even bigger drop for the arrow,
shattering the curse. Padraig smiled as the final part clicked
into place. All he had to do was send the readings back and
wait. It would be over in a few minutes. He was not supposed
to survive this because
 Patroclus.
Padraig jumped. Why was there noise? It was impossible
that his speakers were working: the transmissions would not
work over such a large time interval. The wormhole distorted
sound waves.
 Patroclus. It s me.
His eyes widened, and slowly he turned. Standing
behind him, not quite there, shimmering gently through the
burst of sunlight, was a man built like a Greek god. Padraig
swallowed, standing.
 You must leave at once.
The man was speaking despite his lips not moving,
flaxen gold hair wafting as the sun s heat boiled the air;
muscles sleek, not battle-scarred, like he remembered from
his dreams. The essence of Achilles distilled into spirit. His
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
14
voice, sure and commanding.
 I know that you cannot survive this. Go. I will be all
right.
Was he hallucinating? Padraig liked to think he could
keep his senses even in a high-pressure environment, but it
looked like he was beginning to lose it. Achilles did not look
quite real, like he was existing between planes. Patroclus
knew, deep in his bones, this was the man. He shook his
head.  I m staying to see it through. It has to be done. I m
not leaving you to wander the galaxy while I wait in the fields
for you. Even if I die here& it has to work.
 Go back. Your soul will be obliterated. It is different
from mine and the others who have not passed through the
gates. Your soul is stretched thin, straddling life, death, and
time. You must return if you wish to reunite with me one day
in the fields.
 One day? Padraig yelled, balling up his fists.  How can
you say that so calmly? One day may never come if I do not
take advantage of this. The arrow. It will be blown away or
even blown up during the sun s last breath. We may never
meet if your soul is still bound to it by then. I m not having
it. I m watching this  til the end.
Achilles let out a sigh, and Padraig smiled, knowing the
younger man had always given in to his wisdom.
 Besides, there isn t enough energy left. The time-travel
machine was only meant as a one-way trip. We have never
been able to transport something back to the past. It
requires far too much energy in too precise a fashion for us
to engineer. I will stay.
Padraig sat down, making sure the arrow was indeed in
the precise location. The reading monitors gave a beep, and
he started packing away the memory sticks, writing down
the readings just in case. He slid the information into the
reinforced compartment of the machine, collecting some dust
samples and adding that in as well.
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
15
 Very well, Patroclus, Achilles said, coming to stand in
front of him.  Let s hope we can meet in the fields after this.
For now, I will prepare myself. It is happening soon.
Padraig looked up, watching as Achilles disappeared in
a soft whirl of dust. It was odd. He had known that was
Achilles, even though the man had not been fully corporeal,
but even then, he had not been happy. There was no blissful
reunion, like he dreamed, because it felt as if Achilles wasn t
fully there. Padraig sighed, double-checking the instruments.
It had felt like he had been watching a holographic reel of
Achilles being projected in front of him. That had not been
Achilles, but a shadowed form of his lover. It hadn t been a
reunion, just a prolonged torture of what he couldn t have.
A loud beep interrupted his thoughts. Padraig eyed the
temperature monitor. The red lines hit the maximum limits,
and Padraig had to zoom out to see more. It was spiking far
too fast at far higher a temperature than anticipated. That
was both a blessing and a curse. His suit wouldn t be able to
react quickly enough to the change, but the breaking of the
curse just might be more successful because of this. A
glance to the ever-looming sun showed an eruption on its
surface.  Apollo. Is this your way of cursing me even now?
The machines gave out urgent beeps and readings,
Padraig s fingers flying between them and trying to
recalibrate all to accommodate the explosion of heat. He was
perspiring inside his suit, the trickle of sweat making the
hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
 I need more time, Padraig said, panicking, a plea to
Achilles in case his spirit could intervene. His eyes flickered
to the arrow in front of him, watching it sway with the
evaporating air. A loud beep from the time machine behind
him made him turn around as he realized he had forgotten
to close the lid after collecting the soil samples.
At that precise moment, a large solar flare erupted from
the sun. A sharp pain hit his back. The last thing Padraig
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
16
heard as he was propelled back into the time machine from
the force was the loud beeping of the machines. He gasped
as the piercing pain in his back reminded him that his suit
could very well break under such sudden sharp impact. The
machine s lid slammed down, and Padraig watched with
growing dread as it was switched on.
 Achilles! You dumb fool! Let me out! he yelled, the
unlock button failing. Whether it was from the heat or if it
truly was Achilles s doing, Padraig wasn t sure. But he had
to take his frustration out on someone. The experiment
would be a failure if the right conditions were not met. It had
all been precisely calculated, and now everything was
turning to hell.
The screen lit up, and Padraig saw that the initiation
sequence for time travel had been started. His stomach
lurched in horror as he realized the futility of the situation.
He quickly attempted to get into proper position, on his
back, so he could monitor the machine. Something pressed
into him, and a quick look over his shoulder revealed it was
the arrow that had pushed him back into the machine.
It wasn t debris like he had assumed. It was embedded
slightly into the suit he had on, deep enough for him to have
felt the pain of impact but shallow enough to have kept the
suit intact. He imagined a few fibers separated him from
certain death. The brief thought flashed into his mind that
the outcome would have been extremely different if he had
worn something else. With a reach over his shoulder and a
yank, the arrow came out.
 You better come back, you hear? he yelled as the
lights in the machine flickered and the temperature rose in
the confined space. It had only been built for one-way time
travel, and Padraig watched as the settings were tampered
with, a new date being set.  Leave! Prepare yourself for the
curse-breaking!
There was a loud beep, and the travel sequence
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
17
initiated. Padraig yelled out as the familiar sinking of his
stomach and his stretching of his body were inflicted on him.
The pain was stronger now than it had been originally, some
of the defenses of the machine damaged in the travel to the
future. His body was being stretched and crushed at the
same time, sinking deeper and deeper back into the past. A
loud scream rent his throat and Padraig blacked out, hand
still holding on tightly to the arrow.
He wasn t sure how long he was out for, but the one
thing he knew upon regaining consciousness was that his
body felt like it had been squeezed through a too small ring
and then compelled to expand suddenly on the other side.
He ached. Hard. Padraig let out a groan, eyes struggling to
open.
 Looks like you re awake. You gave all of us a scare back
there when you suddenly fell from above, a deep voice said
from his right. It sounded familiar. So familiar. Padraig had
to fight his eyelids to get them to open.
A man with blond hair and a smiling face stood to his
right, looming over him in what he recognized as a modern-
day lab coat. Padraig was captivated by his blue eyes when
his vision focused. With a jolt and a groan that had the man
pressing him back down into the bed, Padraig realized who it
was.
 Ach 
 Dr. Archer, the patient s test results are back, a nurse
said, stepping into the room with a manila folder and
handing it to the blond.
Padraig had to stifle back laughter because his ribs
hurt. Trust the gods to give Achilles a surname linked to how
he died. He watched as Archer went through the file,
wondering if it was truly Achilles standing before him. The
man could very well be one of his descendants, which would
explain the facial familiarity. But still, Padraig had every
hope to speak to the doctor once he found the strength to
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
18
move his mouth more than a syllable.
For now, he simply watched, drinking in the sight of his
obsession, the love that had occupied his every waking hour
all those years ago.
The long days of recovery in the bare hospital room were
joyful ones because of his doctor. Padraig lay in bed,
awaiting his arrival twice a day, once in the morning, and
once near evening. His body was healing, but there had been
so much damage that even if he wanted to talk, there was no
way. His throat felt like it had been scratched dry. Archer
explained that it had been rasped from screaming in pain.
On the fifth day, Archer deemed it safe for the lead
scientist of the time-travel initiative to enter the room and
brief Padraig about what had happened after he left. The
sleek white machine had warped out for precisely twenty
seconds. They hadn t expected Padraig to come back, but an
intern had come racing down the corridors to report that
Padraig had fallen out of a tree, nearly crushing Archer on a
lunch break in the process. He had been rushed to the
nearby hospital since his injuries were too extensive for their
own medical wing.
The time machine was found entangled in a tree set
ablaze nearby. The fire had been put out, and thankfully, the
records and samples were safe since the indestructible
container had kept the heat out. Choosing to obtain samples
had been the correct decision. Against the improbability of
surviving, he had returned.
Had his plan failed? Was the arrow still cursed? Padraig
had pushed for that part of the experiment in exchange for
the breakthrough research he had done on time travel. His
eyes flickered to Archer, but there was nothing to give it
away. Archer had an impassive face as Padraig s men said
the arrow was lost. There was no indication that the arrow
meant anything to him. The researchers filed out, and
Padraig fretted over the fate of the arrow. Had it been
destroyed? Lost somewhere in time? How was he going to
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
19
free Achilles? He struggled to sit up, but Archer pushed him
back down, leaning close to him.
 Recover first, and then worry about your mission, he
said, winking.
Was he Achilles? In that one wink, Padraig thought he
saw the shadow of his past lover rising up. Was he losing his
sanity? The researchers recommended counseling after he
had recovered, since he was recorded as talking off into
space during his time in the future. Padraig made a noise of
protest, then fell back, resigned.
He wished the healing process would speed up, but also
wanted to remain here in the hospital. As Padraig regained
his strength, Archer reminded him more and more of
Achilles each day. The man would talk endlessly about any
and every subject, just like he had in Padraig s dreams, and
Padraig would lie in the bed and listen. Mathematics,
science, philosophy, and the cosmos bound them together.
Padraig s feelings for the doctor grew, and sometimes it was
hard to tell if it was because the man looked so much like
Achilles from his dreams or because they shared an
undeniable chemistry.
Day by day, his body healed, and Padraig s strength
returned. It was after a bout of speech therapy two weeks
later that Archer finally lingered near his bedside, Padraig
watching him.
 Well, I guess you re well enough to talk. Archer smiled,
sitting down on a chair near the bed.  Your throat should
have recovered fully now. I m sure there are a lot of
questions you have about your recovery process, so fire
away.
 Are you Achilles?
A stunned silence filled the room as Archer stared at
him with knitted brows. There was no hesitation. Who cared
about his health? He was recovering. Padraig had known the
first question he wanted to ask ever since his eyes saw the
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
20
blond.
 No, I am not Achilles, Archer said after what felt like
eons.
Padraig s face reddened, and he felt himself sinking
deeper into the bed. His eyes turned to gaze at the ceiling,
going over the calculations that had gone wrong. He should
have anticipated a solar flare and planned for it. Now the
arrow was lost. Still, he was grateful that Archer had not
made fun of him or laughed at the question.
 Hey, don t look so glum. Archer smiled.  It s a good
first question. And, if my assumptions are correct, you have
had the same dreams as me, both of us dying over and over
again each night. I would recognize your face anywhere.
Padraig s eyes widened, and he turned to stare at
Archer.  You mean, you too? You recognize me as well? Why
didn t you say anything earlier?
 I wanted you to recover fully first, but for the first time,
you were more impatient than me. Archer s blue eyes
sparkled, and Padraig felt his heart leap.
 So, you are Achilles! And I m Patroclus. Why are you
denying it? Padraig nearly sprang out of his bed, but Archer
moved to swiftly settle him back down, both hands staying
on Padraig s shoulders to keep him down and stop him from
moving. His throat had healed, but most of his body had not.
 That sounds like crazy talk. But, I have to wonder if
there s some truth in it. Archer gave a laugh, eyes twinkling.
 A vision of Achilles spoke to me the night after you crashed
down from the tree. He told me that the curse had been
broken. That he has returned to the fields to stay with
Patroclus there.
 He s returned to the fields where Patroclus is? Wait.
That doesn t make sense. Padraig inhaled deeply, creases
forming on his forehead.  I mean, after my death in the past,
I was swimming past the gates in the dream to make it back
here, and there was the part where I entered a new body. I m
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
21
sure I m him. If I m not, who are we, then?
 That s simple enough to answer. We re Padraig and
Archer, Archer replied with an arrogance that Padraig found
familiar.  Still, your dream differed from mine. Hmm. My
dreams were of the past life only. For me, nothing happened
after death, only an unending blackness that constricted me.
Until that night when Achilles came to me.
 Because you were bound in the arrow, Padraig
explained, as he might have to students.  There was no
afterlife for you.
Archer frowned, falling silent as he looked down at
Padraig, trying to come up with a more logical explanation.
Padraig was quiet as well, letting the man think it through.
He couldn t stand it any longer. Archer s lips were so close to
his.
 We are their reincarnated forms, Padraig reinforced.
Archer shook his head.  Then it would be impossible for
me to exist now, along with the arrow that still has my spirit
bound to it. A paradox would exist since there would be
copies of our souls.
 I don t have the arrow. None of my researchers have
seen it even though they ve scoured everywhere. I m
Patroclus and you re Achilles. I ve finally freed you and I
guess you& well, your spirit must have been sent back
farther in time to be reborn.
 I think the simplest answer would be the easiest. We
look very much like them because we are their descendants.
Their blood was in our line somewhere, and we both read
about them and, uh& . Archer trailed off.
 Doesn t explain why we recognize each other. Padraig
grinned, knowing the loophole Archer had stumbled upon.
Even pictures and statues of the past were not as clear as
their dreams.  I still maintain that we are their
reincarnations. Actually, come to think of it& I met Achilles
Timed Arrow * Y.L. Stray
22
in the future. He said my soul was  straddling life, death,
and time . Could it be that our souls are being stretched?
Borrowing our descendants bodies for now?
 As much as I don t believe in this, Archer said,
frowning,  maybe we are a copy of their souls. A part of
Patroclus tore when you went through the gate. A part of
Achilles tore when I traveled through time. Archer s face still
hovered over Padraig, studying him closely.  You really do
look like Patroclus.
Padraig held Archer s eyes, searching deep into them.
Was he Achilles? Archer? A mixture of both? Which was the
truth? They studied each other for several long, agonizing
seconds, and then large smiles broke across their faces
simultaneously.
 Does it really matter? Padraig grinned, his hand
reaching out to hold Archer s.
 We did manage to reunite them, whether in this life or
the next, Archer said, turning Padraig s hand over to inspect
the skin that had been branded when he held onto the
arrow.  And I did manage to save you this time. The dreams
made me study medicine so my lover would never meet the
same fate again. And I succeeded. So, no, I guess it really
doesn t matter.
 Your lover? Padraig raised his eyebrows.  Pretty
presumptuous, aren t we?
Archer s cheeks turned red until a cocky smirk came to
his lips.  No, not presumptuous at all. You re in love with me
too, aren t you?
Padraig smiled, a hand reaching upward to hook around
the doctor s neck, drawing Archer close and pressing their
lips together for an everlasting kiss.
Get the whole package at
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About the Author
Y.L. STRAY inhabits the tropical island of Singapore, which
is also a populous garden city. Stray enjoys depicting the
mysteries and fantasies hidden behind urban bricks,
blending reality and dreams until the two are
indistinguishable. Solitary jaunts around the Asia region fuel
Stray s imagination, along with swimming laps and listening
to music. Attempts to play the guitar have only resulted in
learning a few songs. Stray hopes to one day see snow, build
a snowman, and have a snowball fight.
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Copyright
Timed Arrow ©Copyright Y.L. Stray, 2012
Published by
Dreamspinner Press
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Suite 244-149
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http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by Catt Ford
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Released in the United States of America
June 2012
eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-649-5