Time is like breathing. The more you pay attention to it, the harder it is to perceive.

~Dagda, the All-Father, Chief of the Gods

Crow sat in silence for another hour after reading the book for the fifth time. The Clockwork woman even left her desk, which surprised him, and she came over to sit across from him.

Neither of them talked for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Crow asked a question that burned at him for the last several hours.

“Is this room a puzzle too?”

“It is.”

“I don’t get it. What is the riddle?”

“No riddle, ‘All doors are a mystery. Dare to be bold.’ It even says it right there.” The Clockwork woman pointed at a sign above her desk.

“Hahaha,” Crow laughed. “Clever. Let me ask you another question, is there more than one door that reaches the top?”

“The top? Is that truly where you want to go?”

He paused and realized that he had to remove all assumptions in the Clocktower. The top floor could be a red herring. Even from the outside, he’d witnessed the floors constantly shifting. For all he knew, the middlemost floor was the real goal. That assumption was based on the fact it spun more than any other floor. However, each floor or step forward had to be evaluated on its own merits, or he’d fall into a trap.

Despite realizing the maze of doors wasn’t limited to this floor, he gained that knowledge from the book. It was knowledge he’d soon lose. The problem was perplexing because he didn’t think he’d come across something that could stump his Sage’s Mind this early in his journey to ascend higher. This scenario was outside his scope of comprehension simply because using time to rewind his brain wouldn’t even allow him to use any pneumonics. Nothing he could do to hide tricks for him to unravel. Crow was positive his mind would lose everything from when he opened the book until he exited the floor.

“You are talking to me because you know I won’t remember, right?”

“I am.”

“Then tell me if I’m right. I’ve gathered that all doors are not equal. However, does each Clocktower have an emphasis on which door is important?”

“Very astute, but there is one flaw in your logic. It is as you said at first, all doors are not equal.”

“May I ask you about the Clockwork?”

“Why? You won’t remember.”

“To sate my curiosity.”

“Fine, what do you want to know?”

“Is the Clockwork really controlling time?”

“It is, but remember, time is just a construct. Therefore, the Clockwork is just a construct, a physical representation of time. If you ever find that place, all memories you ever had in all lives will awaken. Then you’ll really understand the power of time.”

“And is Father Time real?”

“If time is just—”

“Just answer.” Crow grinned, watching her dodge the question. There was a strange beauty to her metallic face. The gears beneath causing her face, eyes, brow, and even her smooth dome head to react in a very human-like way. With his enhanced vision, he could tell her eyes were thousands of tiny overlapping gears, and their yellowish color came from some light behind them. Still, he had to admit they were stunning.

“I don’t know. I hear him request us to perform a task, but I’ve never seen my creator.”

“And how old are you?”

“I don’t experience time like you. My life, death, and all the events in between happened simultaneously. I don’t age. I just am.”

“That’s… sad,” Crow frowned. He didn’t say that mean-spiritedly but felt there was something wrong with that way of living. “Do you know all my futures?”

“No. I know possible futures. I know we’ve had this conversation an infinite number of times.”

“Ahh, okay, stop. You are hurting my brain.”

“If it helps, time isn’t the only construct necessary for life. Time is just… the possibility of existence.”

“Possibility of existence…” Crow muttered, testing out the phrase. It was simple and profound… yet it felt hollow, like it wasn’t enough to encompass the miracle of life and living. However, her point was valid. Without time, there was no reality, or at least not one his organic mind could understand. “Can I ask if you experience emotions? Do you know the feeling of joy, hate, sorrow, or even love?”

“I am sentient.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes. Let me ask you something in return. Suppose you knew every outcome of every choice you made and knew that every one of them ended in sorrow. Would you choose to experience emotions?”

“I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“Let me provide you with a scenario. You and I have a relationship in many of my futures, but you always die and leave me alone in the end. Heartbroken. In some, I even experience holding our newborn child and cradle it in my arms while it dies—unable to save our little girl. So much… pain. So much… suffering. The weight of those emotions is soul-crushing. So… would you choose to experience all that, knowing what would happen?”

Crow sighed. He briefly wondered if this was a test, the trial. The question itself was a paradox. Choosing not to experience life was the same as choosing not to live. He pitied her, having to live a life like that. Ironically, he was her paradox, her contradiction. Because he was unfated, he couldn’t see any of his future paths.

“Time is more powerful than karma. I knew of your existence before you became unfated. Will you answer?”

There was truth in that, but it still left him with doubts. It wasn’t that he was ignoring her question, but that he found her existence sad and didn’t want to hurt her. Knowing all relationships, living until the end of time, and always fearing any intimacy—it sounded awful. Life was about living, experiencing the unknown—wait. He was an unknown factor, so there were no absolutes when it came to him.

Crow didn’t doubt she could see her future paths, but knowing what he was, why did she ask that question? Still, the question provoked his overactive mind, but that’s just how life was. If one door closes, another one—holy shit!

“Clever,” he mumbled and looked toward the entrance to the Clocktower. Sure enough, the large wooden doors were shut. That door was definitely not equal to the others in the room, and no one could cry foul about it because it was the most obvious door in the room.

“How many choose that door?” Crow asked her and pointed toward the front.

“Less than one percent.” She replied without any hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Yes? Yes, what?”

“Yes, even knowing that I will experience suffering, pain, and even hate, I would still choose to experience life. We are raised to be cautious, safe. Parents worry about us because they want us to live long lives. What if you lived for thousands of years but look back and find it was a hollow life? A life not worth living? A life not worth remembering? Pain just reminds us that we are still alive, but the absolute joy of life is in the living of it. We can let ourselves forget that being alive and living—these aren’t the same thing. If we remain watchers in our own lives, then what is the point?”

“And how would you know if you are doing one or the other?”

“Memories. Good or bad, they stick with you for eternity, and they are the only real measure of whether you’ve lived your life or remained a passenger. My mother used to chase me around the forest, trying to get me to put clothes on.” Crow smiled whimsically, and the Clockwork woman laughed. “I danced with a girl in a beautiful white dress. Placed snowdrops in her hair and felt like I was dancing with an angel. During a shamanistic ritual, drums beating and the mana of the earth filling me, I made love to a woman. It was raw and primal, and I felt myself let going of any misgiving and really felt alive. The first time I cultivated, I was four. I stepped off that stoop and stood in my father’s shadow, doing as he did. He was right, I could hide and cry, or I could fight. Protect what was mine. Seize every moment. At that moment, I made a vow of life and live that vow every day.”

“Because I remember dancing with a beautiful girl in a white dress and putting snowdrops in her hair. I remember my mother playing with me in the forest, trying to get me to wear my clothes.” Crow paused with a whimsical smile. “I made love to a woman during a shamanistic ritual, the beat of the drum and the feeling of mana coursing through our bodies—it was amazing. And I remember stepping off that stoop, standing in my father’s shadow, vowing to fight to protect what’s mine. To protect those I love. It was a vow of life! I chose not to hide but to become strong for those that need me the most. All those moments are worth any pain because they define who I’ve become. lived it.”

“Lived it…” the Clockwork woman muttered.

“Yes. I’m not trying to criticize your choices, but you see the lives you can live, but do you ever actually live them. So yes, knowing or not knowing, I’d choose to experience it. One thing I know for sure is that there are no certainties in life.”

Crow stood up and headed toward his chosen door, but a warm, supple hand grabbed his. He expected the Clockwork woman’s hand to be cold, hard metal, but it wasn’t. She wrapped her arms around him, and he was once more surprised that she felt nothing like what he’d expected.

“Thank you,” she told him. “My name is Teicheadh.”

She stepped back, and Crow scratched his head.

“How about I just call you Tei? My name is Crow.”

*Oh, gag me! Now you are flirting with an automaton?* Nin growled. *I should’ve stayed in bed. You are not to take another woman before me—unless it’s Song Xue.*

Tei laughed, which surprised both Crow and Nin. “Your dragon is funny and mean. I’m not an automaton. I’m a Clockwork, a creator, and I’ve been around before dragons existed.”

*I don’t care. Stay away from Crow. He’s mine!*

“I only wanted to show him my gratitude, but since you can’t come out…”

Tei grabbed Crow by his shirt and lifted him off his feet before dragging his face next to hers. Awkwardly, she pressed her copper-colored lips against his. Her mouth was cool and damp and strangely tasted like peppermint.

Crow would have resisted, but things escalated so quickly that he didn’t know what to do, and by that time, the Clockwork’s tongue was already in his mouth. It was a sloppy kiss, but her inexperience was shadowed by her exuberance.

*You damned hussy! I’ll burn down your fucking Clocktower!*

Finally, she let Crow go, and he dropped back down to his feet in a daze.

“What the hell just happened?”

“I seized my life, just like you said. So worth it,” Tei giggled.

*Double gag. Damn it all, I’m going back to bed. Crow, you owe me a kiss. You better pay up, and you have less than a week to make good. As far you, hussy… this isn’t over.*

Crow stumbled toward the double doors he’d chosen, trying to escape everyone. He pushed them open and stepped into the light.

You’ve chosen the Door of Paradox. A voice spoke inside his head, and Crow had an ominous feeling that something terrible was happening.

He blinked. He blinked again.

“What?”

Minutes ticked by, and that’s all he could ask. Judging by the sun, almost six hours had passed since he’d been standing there. That wasn’t right. Why would he stand in front of the Clocktower for six hours?

Door of Paradox echoed in his head, again and again. It was the only thing in the void of the last six hours that he could recall. Looking at the back of his hand, the number had shifted to one. So he did enter the tower, but why can’t he remember?

“What the fuck is…” Crow suddenly lost the ability to speak. His mouth was open and moving as if he was choking on something, but no words came out. He dropped to his knees and cradled his head with both hands. A scream tore through his throat as it felt like something was clawing through his brain.

Copper-colored arms picked him up and cradled him to her chest. He could only whimper while Door of Paradox kept rebounding inside his empty mind.

Whimpering, he called out. Finally, he realized why his mind had a massive blank spot.

*Nin, help!*