The Birth of a Chonomancer

[Kira Adia]

Somewhere far in the Wilds, it was early on the first morning of the new year. The sun had just begin to kiss the horizon in its slow ascent over the world. This patch of wilderness was remote; it was not unlikely that no intelligent creature had been here in decades, if not longer.

At the edge of a grove of trees, something was stirring. Reality began to shift and warp, as though a small pocket was being forced to submit to the will of some outside force. Reality resisted the intrusion, attempting to rectify an act that should not happen. Few had this ability, and few ever should, but one was attempting to claim such mastery as had not been seen in this world in nearly a century.

This point of space and time could only hold so long however. The one pulling at it was persistent and patient. She would have her way, and few things would prevent this single moment of triumph from happening today.

The event was eerily silent. Warping a hole in space-time was an act of such violence, it only stood to reason that the tearing of such fabric would be accompanied by a suitably catastrophic accompaniment. Instead, when reality gave way, there were two sounds. First was a simple pop, the sound of air being rapidly displayed around an object that had not been there an instant before. The second was a scream of agony.

Kira fell to her knees, the shock of the sudden pain had taken her by surprise. She was expecting it — James had left clear warnings of such in his journals — but the intensity was beyond what she had imagined. The pain lasted only for an instant, but the shock of it lingered. It left behind a hollowness that felt alien and indescribable, as though a wound now stood open in her existence.

She sat there for a moment, catching her breath. At first, she could think of little more than bringing herself back under control. Once she had slowed her breathing, however, she began to grin, then laugh. I did it. she stood and looked around. “I’ve done it.” Laughter turned to shouting and celebration. It had taken her nearly a month, but this one act had made it worth the effort. She retrieved an antique looking pocket watch. A week before, it had been broken and useless. Now, she flipped it open, and the complex faces adjusted to show information that would confirm whether she had truly succeeded.

So, she had lost a few seconds. She was still in her Rhy’Din, and she recognized a few distant landmarks, so she was more than a day’s hike from the city. She would work on her accuracy, but she had done it. She was now a chronomancer.

She closed the pocket watch and affectionately ran her finger along its brass casing. She mouthed a single word, or perhaps a name. After a short moment, she placed the device back in the pocket of her black jeans and looked about one more time. She walked in the direction of the city. After a few steps, she vanished with a pop. The pain was anticipated. There would be no scream upon her return to her room in the inn, her displacement off by no more than a half second this time.

Silence and solitude returned to the wilds. Not a trace of the young huntress remained and no sign marker her passage.