Sunlight poured through the window in Jennifer’s room. With a jerk, she opened her eyes, wiping drool off of her face. She looked around with blurry eyes, confused about where she was when she realized that she’d nodded off somewhere along the way. The last memory she had was going through another one of her books, as the sun had started to peek over the horizon.

Jennifer looked around wide-eyed, shuffling and sorting the scattered books lying on her table. The best she’d found about her Mark and time magic had been hypothetical possibilities about the existence of such a thing, which could do what she’d seen at a limited scope. None that matched the description of her Mark.

She’d moved on to reading up on the Ostiri tribes and Demons but her father’s book collection and her own included precious little information on those topics. But her search hadn’t been completely useless as she’d found hints about the existence of records in Lienmont’s library on old Giant runes pertaining to time magic.

“Jenn, are you up?” her mother’s voice came from outside.

“Yeah, I’m up!” she responded, putting her things together as she ran to the mirror and lightly brushed her hair. She checked the bandages on her hand, tightening them once more. Her cut had almost healed already, and she’d regretted injuring herself so hastily. She hadn’t been in the right headspace last night.

People don’t make the best choices when they are killed and sent back in time.

Rushing out, she opened the door and saw her mother standing outside with a concerned frown dotting her face.

“Are you feeling better? How about your hand?”

Jennifer looked up at her mother, and gave her a light smile, nodding. “Yeah, I am.” And this time, that’s not a lie.

“Get some food in you then, and if you’d like, we’ve got some leftovers too,” her mother said, turning around.

Jennifer shook her head, as she clutched her enchanting crystal and put it in the pouch on her waist. “I’m sorry mom but I need to rush out. Can’t eat today, I’m sorry, love you, bye!”

She heard her mother calling for her as she rushed out but she was already speeding away. With everything that had happened, food was the least of her concerns, and she was running late for her Master’s workshop.

A quick run through the lanes had Jennifer standing in front of her Master’s shop. She dug out the key she’d been given to the backdoor, entering her chamber as she nudged the door ajar and peeked into the workshop.

The sound of her master’s hammer strikes rang through the smithy as Jennifer’s eyes wandered around.

“Here are ye lass?” her Master called out.

She let the door close behind her. “Sorry for being late,” Jenn said, walking inside. Her Master grunted in reply, continuing to work on the weapon he was crafting.

Jennifer took a seat, waiting for her Master to instruct her as she watched him work. In just a few minutes, the rhythmic clang of hammer striking metal began to lull her towards sleep, as the exhaustion she’d been shrugging off started to catch up to her.

Jennifer bit her lips, the sensation keeping her awake and helping with her anxiety. So far, she’d found no plausible way to explain her situation to anybody. She almost felt afraid of doing so, of being told that she’d gone mad, that the Mark was nothing but her imagination, and so was the month she’d lived through.

Yet, every memory I re-live feels accurate. I remember things from this month, the quake, the boom of adventurers arriving, the little celebration with Rumina. So many details. Can there really be a dream so real?

"Come here lass, I need yer help."

Jennifer set aside her thoughts and walked up to her master. A wave of heat pricked her skin from the flame burning in his forge.

“Get that mithril dust for me and make a fortifying inscription on this slab here,” The burly bearded man said, his bronze muscular skin glistening with sweat.

Jennifer nodded. She went outside the smithy, and into the shop, grabbing the mithril dust and taking out her enchanting crystal.

Wait, wasn’t this the time when he got a fault in the metal and had been pissed off about it for a whole week? He even sent me multiple times to Rumina to have threat filled letters sent anonymously to the guild.

Jennifer walked back in and noticed that he was inspecting the ingot. She heard him mutter a few skills under his breath.

“You really shouldn’t use that ingot,” Jennifer said, setting the mithril dust on the floor.

Her master grunted as he looked up at her. “Why?”

“Well, because it…” How do I explain that it probably has a small defect on the inside, if he can't detect it?

“It...doesn’t look that good to me. Just a gut feeling,” she said, pushing down a cringe at the lame reason. Lying would’ve been a better alternative than that.

“Hmm, yer right. It doesn’t ring right to my ears either. The mana waveforms feel disrupted, but I was hesitating because the sound was so small,” her master said, setting the ingot on the anvil before he lifted his hammer and gave it a strong strike.

The metal rang with a deep ring as the mana vibrated all around the room.

“Yeah, I hear it. There’s a fault in this. The Elphion damned merchants are selling faulty mithril now,” her Master let out a string of crafty dwarven curses, some that she’d grown familiar enough to learn the meaning of over the years, before turning towards Jennifer. “How’d ye find the fault? There’s no saying gut for this lass, if ye had such a strong gut then I’d have apprenticed yer as a [Smith] instead of an [Enchanter].”

Jennifer stared at her master, and he stared back at her. She knew he wanted her answer, but she hesitated about lying to him. Her gaze went to the mithril ingot on the anvil, shining a silver blue and she felt a tiny dissonance in the mana coming from the metal, one she hadn’t noticed before.

“I just felt the mana. It doesn’t go through the metal uniformly in one area,” she replied, as her master scratched his thick beard in thought.

“The mana ye says,” he paused, rubbing his beard as he picked up the metal to inspect it once more. “I suppose one can find faults that way if they’re sensitive enough. Hmm. Curious. Have ye leveled up recently?”

“Err, yeah. I did. I got a new skill as well. [Lesser Arcane Analysis].”

“Arcane Analysis huh. A mage skill, that one. It fits yer way of enchanting for sure. All neat and meticulous, far too much like yer father,” he said with a grin, setting the fault mithril aside. “I’d need to have a damn word with the idiot who checks these ingots. If I’d have tried to craft an artifact with this, I would’ve sunk tens of gold coins into the darned thing.”

Jennifer sighed in relief as she began to draw the inscriptions. She touched the enchanting crystal with the mithril dust, shaking off the excess before crouching down as she began to draw the lines around the anvil. She traced the inscription with the dust drawing the runes carefully around the anvil.

Her master walked back with a different mithril ingot, blazing up the heat in the furnace once more. Jennifer wiped a bead of sweat about to drip down on her hands and mess up the inscription lines. Drawing the last rune, she checked her inscription for any mistakes.

“[Twofold Enchanting]” Jennifer muttered, as the enchantment layered upon itself with her skill, giving a faint blue shimmer to the Anvil.

“Start pouring yer mana lass, and then quickly walk away, this one will be hot,” her master said and Jennifer set to work.

She formed a link to her enchantment, pouring her mana as lines of blue ran across the floor lighting up the inscription. Jennifer hurriedly took a step back as a wave of heat poured through the smithy, with the fire burning hotter than ever.

“[Greater Heat Preservation],” her master said. Then with a powerful slam, he hit the metal and Jennifer felt the wave from that blow travel through the ground and shake her feet.

Taking a few steps to maintain her distance, she kept supplying the enchantment from a distance. Normally she wouldn’t need to, but with the strength of her master’s blows she feared the enchantment would run out of mana even with her skill bolstering its effects.

“Put more mana into it lass!” he shouted, not pausing for a breath, as he continued hammering. Furrowing her brows as heat stung her face, she poured mana through the enchantment.

“[Arcane Touch]” he bellowed another skill.

Runes floated in front of her master, as mana poured from him, and she saw them etch themselves onto the metal. The lines of mithril ran through them, carrying magic through the metal as it was forged. His hammer now moved faster than before, and she had trouble following his arm.

“[Song of Mithril],” he said at last, and Jennifer felt something change within the smithy. An aura permeated the area, carrying magic within it, Jennifer felt her master’s vast aura as a deep ring spread through the smithy. The mithril was singing.

With a sudden sharp crack, she saw the mithril shatter as Jennifer jumped in surprise. Her master’s aura receded, as the runes faded and Jennifer felt her heart beating in surprise.

“Come here Jennifer,” he called out, his voice grave. Confused, she got up and walked up to him.

“Hold our yer hand and pour some mana through them for me.”

She paused for a moment before putting both hands in front of him, not bothering to hide the bandages as she poured her mana through her hands. Small pieces of something sat in her palm, glistening in the light.

“What is that?” Jennifer asked, staring at the little transparents crystals.

“Glass, it’s glass,” he paused, turning towards her. “Ye never told me ye had awakened to glass affinity. Nay, you didn’t. I’d have noticed otherwise. When did this happen?”

Jennifer stared back dumbfounded. “I-I have?”

“Ye lass, it’s a rare affinity, but I’ve seen it once before. For yer sake, let’s confirm it,” her master said. “Come ere,” he added, walking further into his chamber.

Jennifer stared at her own hand, surprised at the tiny glass particles sitting there. She shook the shards off and they dissolved into motes of mana, before she followed her master out.

A quaint chamber greeted her, and she noted precious little within the room. Jennifer often came to her master’s workshop, but his chamber was one place she rarely visited.

The burly man walked towards a metallic chest, opening the box as he sifted through its contents. “It should be here somewhere, I think I've put it back in here, ah, there it is,” her master said, pulling out a shimmering blue crystal from the chest.

Closing the chest he walked towards closer and held the crystal out in front of her. “Channel yer mana through this, and concentrate on yer core. Don’t pour too much through the crystal though, it may shatter.”

Jennifer nodded and closed her eyes. Channeling her mana, she took a deep breath and started to focus on her mana. It coursed through her body. Moving lazily, it traveled all the way around from her limbs and back, before it faded into an incoherent mess near her abdomen and chest.

“Good, now focus on yer core.”

She guided her mind to where her mana gathered in her body, the mana pool, or the core. It was the connection of her mind to the spirit that contained her mana, rather than a physical location.

Slowly but surely, Jennifer found her mind drifting. The world around her faded into the background as her mind was consumed by the flow of her mana. Little lines and channels ran across her body, carrying her mana around in a rhythmic cycle.

Little shards of glass floated in her vision, as her mind drifted through a daze. Fire burned in the distance as Jennifer heard a scream come from somewhere. Blood tinged her nose as she found herself back during the invasion.

A pair of green eyes stared at her. Hands grasped her neck. There was sand all around her, consuming her from within.

Jennifer tried to run, but a sand spike tore through her legs. Another spike pierced her shoulder and lifted her up. Images of monsters tearing through people flashed in front of her eyes as the fire spread through the city. Two dark green eyes stared into her own, toying with her as she desperately tried to escape.

She stared at her imminent death, feeling her chest tighten. No. Please. Stop. I need to-

“It’s alright lass. You’re alright. You can stop now,” her master said.

She opened her eyes and noticed tears covering her cheeks, her face flushed red with exertion. Jennifer sniffed, feeling her emotions unsettled as she wiped her eyes, yet the tears kept flowing regardless of her wishes.

“A misty white color. It’s glass for sure, quite a rare affinity,” her master said, looking at the crystal in her hand. Glass covered it now, forming tiny crystals that glinted in the light.

“Affinities don’t pop up on their own, lass. They take deep scars for those of us not blessed to arrive,” her master said, his deep brown eyes staring into her. She felt a reassuring hand pat her back.

“What happened to yer girl? I’ll be here to listen, so tell me what happened.”

Jennifer tried to come up with an excuse, but her voice didn’t come out. A slow sob broke out at first, followed by another, and soon the dam broke as tears flooded out.

She nodded, and began to recount the events.

***

“And then I was back all of a sudden, yesterday night, sitting in my room with no injuries or anything, just the Mark on my hand.”

Jennifer paused to look at her Master’s face.

“I know how ridiculous all of this sounds. And I thought it was all a dream but...” she took away the patch covering her mark, revealing the glowing symbols. “This thing stayed with me. The Mark of Time. The system screen told me it had the ability to bring me back in time and— ouch.”

She rubbed her head, where her master had hit her, wincing as the burly half-dwarf snorted.

“Ye dumb little fool. Why did ye have to run headlong into death’s maw like that? Don’t ye have any sense in you!”

“But the man had run in and I was pulled by some monster and the entrance collapsed!” Jennifer exclaimed, protesting, ready to defend her actions when she realized something. “Master, you believe me?”

“Elphion damn me, lass. I don’t know. I ain’t saying yer lying,” he huffed muttering something to himself. “I’ve seen awakenings before, girl, it doesn’t just happen on its own. There was always an event that led to it, usually traumatic. I’ve seen people almost die, or lose brothers in arms and wake up with new magic before. The deep downs aren’t a kind place, especially not for a half like me.” he rumbled, getting up from his seat.

Haireth walked over to a closet in the corner of the room, picking out a bottle and a glass from within. Alcohol of some kind, from what Jennifer could tell.

“An invasion is not something you’d be joking about. The Ostiri have always been discontent, and shunned from the Alliance for their slavery and, well, the church. It is the demons that bother me lass, the demons haven’t moved in decades,” he sat down with a thud, pouring the drink into his glass. With a long swing, he drank the whole thing in one go.

“Gah, been a while. Where was I? Right, the Ostiri tribes tend to be fractured, someone would need to bring them together,” he muttered something in dwarven and she recognised some familiar dwarven curses.

"If the demons have reached this far to the central plains then Lienmont would fall long before the Alliance moves, Murken rot," Haireth said, turning towards Jennifer. “Show me that Mark of yer’s lass.”

She nodded and put her hand forward.

“Not magic ink, or anything like that. This is Arcane, yes. It runs deep too. Where in Elphion's damned depths did you find this thing? The dungeon? The first floor? This is some old magic right here,” he said, eyeing the Mark a moment longer before letting go of her hand to fill up his glass once more.

“Try focusing on the Mark, ye should be able to feel it, then see if ye can make it invisible.”

Frowning, she did as he said, and tried to nudge the mark into fading away. A small wall pushed against her in her mind, but it soon broke down. She opened her eyes to find the Mark had disappeared from her hand.

“Thought so. This Mark of yer and that trial, both sound like old magic to me. The old timers in the murk would know more, or the guild itself. I could try and get through to the guild, it’s been a while since I left, but I have a couple people in there I've kept in touch with." Haireth took another drink from his glass before he grabbed the bottle and got up from his seat to put it back in the closet.

Kneeling, he opened a locked closet nearby and pulled a scroll from inside. A dusty old piece of paper with a wax seal on it. She could see gold and silver engraved on the seal.

“This is a truth spell. It’d help with convincing others that at least ye think what ye say is true. An invasion isn’t a light matter.”

Jennifer stared at the truth spell, gulping. She'd only seen a truth spell used for judging thieves and criminals before. They weren't cheap.

“Try to summon more glass in the meanwhile, we’ll need to train yer affinity up. I don’t have a good feeling about the man yer told me about. If this is some kind of strange magical tracker, then we need to find a way to get it off.”

Jennifer sat dumbfounded, surprised by how quickly her Master was acting. She tried to focus on getting some glass, but her mind kept jumping around at what might happen to the city and her.

How do I approach Irwys? How involved is he in all of this? The guild knows, at least Master can try to get talks started. Is it enough? Have I done enough? Where do I go now?

“Done, come here lass,” Haireth called from a table set nearby, the scroll spread across it, glowing with magic.

Jennifer got up from her seat, and walked next to her Master, looking at the runes flashing on the scroll.

“Pour your mana through the scroll,” Haireth grunted, tapping the paper as he turned to look at her.

“O-Okay," Jennifer muttered as she leaned over and had a look at the scroll. The initial parts just had the inscriptions of the truth spell and a long description of its effects. She took a deep breath, and set her hand against it. Mana poured through the scroll as a magical chain bound itself in her mind, similar to the one she had felt with Irwys' Oath skill.

The scroll flashed with a silver and gold light and as words appeared in front of her eyes.

Tier 3: Truth Spell

Divination

Target: Jennifer Laine and Haireth Chainbreaker

This is to verify that the aforementioned statement is true and has been verified by [Mithril Runesmith] Haireth Chainbreaker.

Do you agree to the spell?

‘Yes,’ She thought, projecting the words towards the scroll with her mana. The words dissolved into motes of light, as a link formed binding her to the scroll.

“Do ye feel the spell? Like a bond stretching invisibly from this scroll?”

“Yes, I feel it,” she replied, looking at the scroll. It had stopped glowing as her name had appeared alongside her master’s.

“That’s one thing done. Now for that Mark of yers, I’ve got a thing for it,” her said, rolling up the scroll. “I think I believe ye lass. The scroll also says ye believe what ye says. I think you’ve earned enough trust from me by now.”

He opened the trunk again, going through the contents before he took out a small bracelet of metal. The bracelet shone with a silvery clue hue, and Jennifer spotted little runes carved all over it.

“Found the dratted thing. Here, put this on. It’s an appraisal bracelet. I don’t know about ye, but I don’t trust no Mark from depths forsaken dungeons.”

She looked wide eyed at the bracelet. “Aren’t these really expensive?”

“That’s why ye better not break it,” her master said, smirking.

“O-okay, got it,” she nodded and blushed slightly when the man started laughing.

“Ah, it’s good to see yer still fine, can still blush like the lass that ye are. What ye’ve described would be enough to break down many people. Yer a strong girl lass, always remember that.”

Jennifer stared at her master, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. She nodded lightly, unable to fully answer. It had been easier to push all her fears down, instead of facing them. She wasn’t ready yet, and she knew she wasn’t, but she was glad she had her master.

“Good, let’s start then. Pour some mana through the thing, think of the result ye want, envision it, and then start the bracelet.”

She did as he asked, pouring her mana through the bracelet. Her [Lesser Arcane Analysis] skill gave her a rudimentary breakdown of the spell, as the bracelet began to glow.

Jennifer felt the appraisal spell latch onto her Mark, as she felt a pulse of magic go through her chest. She probed into the magical Mark within her through the spell, yet found something resisting. She frowned, pushing harder against the Mark as she poured more mana into the braze. The bracelet began to glow, and a system prompt appeared in front of her eyes.

Mark of Time

The Mark given to the Chosen of Time in the trial of the Seeker

Tier: Undefined

Chronomancy/Arcane

One key among the eight needed to reach the Arcendium, otherwise known as the Library of Truth. The Mark contains the soul of Albion.

Jennifer stared at the message as the mana continued to flow through her bracelet. She felt heat rising around the ring as more bright light began to come from it. With a shout of pain, she pulled the burning hot bracelet out. Her wrist burnt with a stinging pain, and she found a red circle of tender flesh where the bracelet had been. Her eyes shifted to the bracelets, and she found smoke coming out of it.

“Sera’s grace. I’ve appraised Relics with this thing and I’ve never seen it behave like this,” her master casually held the hot ring picking the burning hot bracelet up. “The circuit is still fine, but I’ll need to replace the frame.” he turned to look at her, surprise still covering his face. “What did it say?”

“I don’t know. It said something about a Library of Truth? And eight keys to restore it? There was also something about Chronomancy and the soul of something.”

Jennifer tried to recall the message with a system prompt but found nothing. It seemed she couldn’t check without the appraisal ring on her.

“Sounds like a legacy thing,” her master said. “Some old artifacts leave things like these at times. Library of truth, I think it’s an old folklore in the murk by a different name,” he paused to mutter something in dwarven.

“I might need to look into a true appraisal spell to go deeper into it. But for later, we still haven’t done an important thing,” her master said before turning towards her.

“Let me teach ye about affinities. Are ye aware that most people who awaken an affinity, either have bloodline abilities and or skills, secret tomes, and methods for special classes left for them that give them an affinity? Some work really damn hard to attune their bodies towards an affinity, or are naturally born with them.”

Jennifer nodded.

“Good, ye are none of those. I cannot discount the Mark playing some part in this, but yer case simply looks like a triggered awakening. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes, ye can awaken a really dormant mana affinity in ye when yer close to death, or have had a really distressing experience.”

He paused, letting the words sink in. “It is another reason why I think ye aren’t lying. These things aren’t so easy to lie about. I know that damn well. Perhaps far too well,” her master took another drink. “Alright, we need to see how much ye can use yer glass and what for. Try to conjure some glass for me.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes. Driving her attention to her mana, she slowly tried to move it a bit above her hands.

She focused on the world, feeling the mana that radiated from her master, it felt hot, like fire. Small currents of mana flowed around as well, but it was mostly still. She created a small clump of mana near her hands and let it expand gradually.

Small glittering shards and pieces covered her hand, and a large chunk of glass sat cradled within. It slowly started to erode away, back into mana from which it had been formed.

“Unstable, but ye’ve got talent. That is far more than I’d expected from someone who just awakened. A creation ability as well. I’m not sure how to teach you. Glass is a rare talent, and I’ve never heard of many glass mages.”

Jennifer looked at him, a complicated expression on her face.

“This does remind me of my adventuring days. I don’t really talk about my old days anymore, but there was a time when I traveled across the land, looking for jobs and wandering aimlessly through the lands. I’d seen my fair share of magic and monsters, ” her master tailed off, lost in thought.

A muffled knock on the door sounded out as she heard someone speak. “Is the shop open?”

“Aye, I’ll be there!” her master shouted before he turned back to her. “Ye don’t look like ye've slept much. Go home for today lass. I have much work now, no thanks to you,” her master said, grunting.

Jennifer gave him a tired smile of her own, nodding. She made her way to the door when halfway through she turned back. “Thank you.” she said, and closed the door behind her.

Jennifer made her way quickly through the streets, trying to form glass in her hand as she made her way back. The city moved lazily around her, she had forgotten the calm drowsy feel Lienmont could take in the afternoons near the outer districts, away from the dungeon and the movements of adventurers.

“Back already?” her mother called out.

“Yeah, I came home early today,” she replied, and stood there, thinking over what she wanted to tell her. Tell any of them. “I’m gonna go to sleep. Love you, mom.”

Her mother hummed something about food but she was already climbing the stairs. Walking through her room, she looked at her paper, where she had tried to make sense of her thoughts. It was a messy jumble with names cut out and plans and ideas and half-written sentences.

She turned towards her bed, feeling exhausted. The adrenaline mixed in with the terror of death had kept her awake through the night, but Jennifer found her strength quickly sapping in front of a comfortable bed. Just for a while…

She crawled into her bed, laying there as the afternoon sun gently poured through the windows, and after a long day and two nights, she slept.

[Skill: Enchanted Glass Creation] obtained!