There was a man who traveled in time.
He wandered back and forth between past and present, future.
Time curled and bent, each round a trap which he was unable to escape.
He knew the byways, the tricks to sidestep the pitfalls,
But for some unknown reason, he still kept stumbling headlong into them.
There was a man who did not possess his mind.
They possessed power that could knock foundations and perturb the gods.
He thought that pain made him strong,
But he was wrong.
The monster found a door, opening doors to worlds beyond anything he ever imagined.
He leaped, and in the act, he found himself.
Love tempered his power, made him his own.
He was greater than a beast—he was something else.
He learned that he could heal.
The once-beast man met the time traveler.
He observed the cycles that imprisoned his friend, the same cycles that he knew all too intimately.
The once-beast man understood what it was to be hurt.
The once-beast man changed into something new, something improved.
He understood altering was not easy. It was dirty, it was hurtful, it was endless.
He knew his friend, the time traveler, would be hurt, and he promised to be there.
The beast and the time traveler went into the unknown hand in hand.
They had no maps, no warning of what lay ahead of them.
But they went on.
Because healing was the only way.
