Veronica awoke with a start, her body stiff and aching. The room was dim with faint light filtering through the blinds of the window. For a moment, she just laid there, relaxing and focusing, alert for any sounds of suspicious movement. The room was quiet; only soft, faint murmurs of conversation from reached her ears somewhere below the room.

  Slowly, she sat up, wincing as her muscles protested. Her feet were still sore. She looked at her arms and saw that there were several bandages and patches on her arms. They covered the various scrapes on her body, caused from running through brush, leaving small reddish marks. She peeled some off, seeing that the bleeding had long since stopped. Her revitalize spell encouraged blood flow and increased passive recovery.

  A quick glance at the door confirmed that it was still locked, the key resting near her bedside stand.

  She was in a plain-looking ugly room. Was this an inn? Something as shabby as this? Perhaps it was one for commoners? In the past, she spent a lot of time in far more lavish places. It seemed like the guard she saw had listened, and took her somewhere safe to rest.

  A growl came from her stomach. She sighed, a hand resting on her empty belly as she remembered her hunger. She had eaten nothing but berries. Although she was hungry, she'd had gone used to the feeling.

  Across the kingdom, survival had meant knowing where food still existed. Many stores had been preserved through ice magic—sealed cellars, frozen caravans, enchanted receptacles buried in basements meant to outlast sieges. Not enough to live well, but enough to endure.

  Even the elven forests, burned and scarred as they were, still bore fruit in stubborn pockets of life. They could sustain her for days at a time—but they regrew slowly, and she’d learned better than to rely on them.

  Just to survive, she had flown from one point to the next, cellar to cellar, ruin to ruin, constantly refreshing ice magic. Sometimes food couldn’t be preserved all the way. Some days were especially bad until she found more.

  Hunting had crossed her mind—but most wildlife had perished, or worse, become corrupted. Places like the ruined elven forests still offered berries, but the animals would never return. It was said a person could go several weeks, maybe a couple months without food, provided they had water.

  She had been forced to confirm that theory was indeed true.

  Veronica crossed her legs on top of the bed, closing her eyes and settling into a meditative posture. Calming her breath, she focused on the seven magic disciplines. Each discipline was unique, focusing on different paths of magic. Different philosophies and understanding.

  This was the magic of the Vitian kingdom.

  The first step to becoming a tiered mage was attuning oneself. Without proper attuning, her magic would remain erratic and inefficient, and she couldn’t afford that. Casting spells would take too long and way too much mana.

  The mercenaries had gotten close with their unsavory plans; without her knowledge of extracting mana from the air, who knows what horrors could have occurred to her?

  Fortunately, the early mage tiers were attainable without external factors. All she needed was time, focus, and uninterruption.

  Veronica closed her eyes and extended her mental awareness inward, feeling the faint pulse of mana coursing through her body. She drew her mana inward, deeper, channeling it straight to her core. The process was slow and deliberate, requiring utmost precision with no distractions. She visualized destruction—raw power and devastation as a controlled force; a tool to break down and destroy. This was her main attuned discipline.

  The Path of Ruin.

  In the Vitian Kingdom, every mage chose a primary discipline at the first tier. It was the foundation of their magic, the lens through which everything else was shaped. At the second tier, that foundation could be expanded. Some chose to open another primary path. That, however, was inefficient.

  Most, instead, choose to awaken a sub-path—a specialization that influenced and refined their main discipline.

  In Veronica’s case, she had been born with two mana cores.

  That, however, didn’t mean she was free to choose additional paths for each one.

  Her cores were bound together. Whatever discipline one core accepted, the other was forced to mirror. Advancing a path in one meant advancing it in both.

  There had been significant research into whether the two could be split—whether she could attune a primary and sub-path to each core, branching into four disciplines at once. None of it had proven plausible.

  The true anomaly of her condition revealed itself elsewhere.

  Her mana rings.

  Each time Veronica formed a ring, she formed two—one around each core. By the time she reached the 10th-tier, she would possess twenty mana rings in total.

  That alone was ludicrous. Possibly more so than the idea of wielding four paths.

  Wind whirled around Veronica as she focused.

  The energy coalesced within her, forming the foundation of her first attunement. The sensation was both familiar and foreign, like reuniting with an old friend but realizing they’d changed. Her body trembled slightly, the strain evident as sweat beaded on her forehead.

  The process involved reforging her mana core as a suitable vessel for The Path of Ruin, allowing her body to handle its pressure. She pushed through the discomfort, forcibly opening her mana cores. Originally, it had taken her a month to form the connection and reach Tier-1 once she tried, but things were different now.

  Everything around her grew dim as her consciousness submerged itself. She could feel the connection forming; the sensations were familiar. It was faint at first, like a thread of light in the darkness, but it grew stronger with each passing moment.

  Nearly twenty minutes passed.

  Finally, the connection solidified with a sharp burst of pressure from her mana cores. A gust of wind rattled the room. Veronica steadied her breath and opened her eyes, a faint purple glow lingering in her irises. A natural power flowed through her body again.

  She was a Tier-1 mage again, weak by her standards—but it was a start. She felt different now, more attuned to the flow of mana; her magical capacity having drastically increased.

  She briefly glanced at the back of her right hand, watching the single white wing that had formed, dissipate.

  Mage wings.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  A subtle marker that represented what tier spells a mage was using.

  She considered continuing the advancement, attuning herself to her sub-discipline, the Path of Tempests—but her body protested. A deep ache spread throughout her chest as she tried to expand her core once more.

  “Alright… not yet then,” she muttered, releasing the tension around her body. Maybe she could retry in a few hours.

  It wasn’t worth the risk of rushing things. This body of hers, her past-self, clearly hadn’t the durability or fortitude to handle advancing twice in such a short time. She would have to remedy that later. Mana flowed all throughout a mage, and the earlier she could train her body, the better control she would have later on.

  A sound rang inside her head.

  Current Tier: Tier-1 Mage

  -

  Primary Path has been allocated to: Path of Ruin

  -

  Maximum mana has increased from 200 to 360

  Mana Regeneration has increased from 80 to 100.

  -

  [You have completed a quest: Achieve Tier-1]

  [Reward: You can now detect nearby demons]

  -

  New quest assigned: Achieve Tier-2

  New quest assigned: Form second set of Mana Rings

  That’s right. She wasn’t alone anymore. Now, she had a sentient… arcane… whatever, inside her.

  “Detect?” she asked aloud. “How far?”

  [Within 500 meters.]

  “That’s… quite a far range.”

  [Far is subjective.]

  She sighed. Yeah. Yeah, it sure is.

  Veronica stood and stretched to work the stiffness out of her body. She raised her arms, rolled her shoulders, and lengthened her spine with a controlled inhale. Her balance held as she rose briefly onto her toes, arching herself subtly, then settled again.

  She leaned side to side, then twisted at the waist, checking her range of motion. Slowly, her muscles pulled, then loosened. The fear of Medusa's curse still lingered in her mind, so she took things slowly. After a few more tests, she realized that everything was responding.

  “I can’t believe I can do this again…”

  She didn’t waste the opportunity. After being confined for so long, neglecting basic movement would have been a mistake.

  Veronica kept moving. Simple repeated stretches. Enough to warm her muscles and shake off any lingering attachments of cold from last night's run through the forest.

  She bent forward and held the stretch briefly, hair cascading around her shoulders. She glided her hands down to her feet, finger to her toes, breathing evenly as she counted. She remained like that for a few seconds, getting acclimated to how far she could pressure her joints. She repeated this by standing and bending back as far as she could, holding the same pose.

  Once done, she straightened herself; her legs wobbled briefly as she let her body settle. She let out a satisfied sigh.

  It was strange—the feeling of newfound flexibility, even if it wasn’t technically new. She spread and stretched her fingers, looking down at her bare palms. She was beginning to feel the weight of everything. What it meant to be younger, free of curse—and what it meant to have a second chance. Whatever the reason that the curse was gone, didn't matter. She was just happy to move normally again.

  [Your stretching methods could use improvement. If you’d like, I can give you a 24-step guide on how to—]

  “I’ll pass, Sage,” she chuckled.” I’m fine with just normal stretches.”

  She moved over to the small washbasin in the room. She dipped her hands in, cupping the water, and rinsing her face. Looking up, she stared into the mirror. This was the first chance to actually get a clean look at herself. Her delicate features were at odds with her disheveled state; the rough, split ends of her hair, the dark circles etched beneath her eyes, and her torn, dirty clothes screamed she was little more than a homeless wanderer.

  She didn’t look too different from her post-apocalyptic look.

  And that wasn’t a good thing.

  No one in this town would take her seriously, looking like this. Over the course of the next few minutes, she did her best to fix her appearance, tidying up as best as she could. Washing away the dirt and grime that caked her skin. Leaning over the basin, she rinsed her hair; the strands began to feel smooth again as they slipped through her fingers.

  She pulled her clothes off. It was very much just dirt-stained cloth now. A few new holes had found themselves into the fabric after she ran for the entire night. She cleared the basin and filled it again. She washed the clothes and dried them off with a small, compressed burst of wind magic, be fore putting them on again.

  Once she was more composed and presentable, Veronica left the room, locking the door behind her with the key that was left on the nightstand.

  She headed downstairs. The common room had different patrons sitting at the tables, various conversations happening that she cared very little for. Keeping her head down, she avoided eye-contact with everyone and headed out into the streets of Greystone.

  Before she did, the clerk behind the counter called out to her. He was a middle-aged man with a short beard.

  “Hey, miss. Now that you’re awake, I was told to tell you that Steward Hadrian would like to speak to you. Go visit him whenever you can.”

  “Steward Hadrian?” she replied.

  “Mm. He’s at the far side of the town square, near the masonry building. You can ask a guard for where it is. You’ll find him. Didn't seem too important. 'Said you can rest up or get familiar with the town first 'fore going.”

  She nodded and left the inn.

  It was midday; she had slept for a few hours after killing that ogre.

  The town was lively. There were merchants calling out to passersby, peddling their wares. The other locals were on sidewalks, rushing to their jobs; others rode in carriages pulled by horses. Veronica moved along the streets, keeping an eye out for anyone that may be willing to talk. Her gaze soon landed upon a woman at a stall selling various fruits and vegetables. The woman’s face was warm and welcoming, smiling as Veronica approached.

  “Good day, miss. What can I get for you?” she asked.

  Veronica returned the smile. “I’m just looking for some information, actually. I’ve been traveling for a while and just came into town a few hours ago. This is… Greystone town, right?”

  The woman chuckled. “Aye, this is Greystone, overseen by Baron Welterman. Not much here but some fields and the mines past the forest, but we have a happy little community here.”

  Welterman? Not Alemeister?

  [Records show that Baron Welterman was the previous lord of this town before Alemeister took control of Greystone. It seems you have been sent back in time to before Alemeister became ruler.]

  Veronica nodded, filing away the name of the town ruler. “And do you happen to know the date? I’ve been on the road for weeks and I can’t remember the last time I looked at a calendar,” Veronica said, adding a chuckle for emphasis.

  The vendor gave her a slight tilt, and a raised brow, but not in suspicion, but more in meager-playfulness. “Girl, you must have had a long journey to not remember the day,” she said jokingly. “3872, Seventh day of Trimfall.”

  Veronica’s heart skipped a beat.

  Before she traveled, she had long since forgotten the exact month and day; dates no longer mattered in a fallen world. But she knew the year: 3887.

  15 years.

  She was sent back 15 years into the past. That put her current self at just 19 years old. And if it was the seventh day of Trimfall, then her birthday would be in less than three months from now.

  Her thoughts raced. That meant that in about 12 years, The Fall—the invasion of the demons—would occur.

  Some people she had fought alongside in the future, those friends she had once known who perished alongside the war against the demons; they were likely alive, unaware of what was to come.

  Maeve. She’s alive. She must be alive.

  Her mentor, a Tier-9 mage who taught her all she knew, was alive in this timeline. The teacher who fought with her until her dying breath… she was alive. She had to be.

  The woman noticed the complicated expression on Veronica’s face. “Is something wrong, sweetie? You look a tad pale. Did you miss an important event or something?”

  Veronica blinked, pulling herself back to the present. She forced a small smile and shook her head. “Ah, no. It’s nothing. I… actually have plenty of time.”

  The woman chuckled softly. “Well, that’s good. Better late than never show up, as they say. In your case, looks like you aren’t late at all.”

  Veronica offered a small, genuine smile. “I actually need to talk to the town Steward. Hadrian, I think his name was? Do you know where I can find him? And is there somewhere I can catch up on local news? I’ve been… away.”

  “Hadrian's going to be near the town square a bit west of here. There's always guards there that can lead you the rest of the way.” The woman tapped her chin. “As for news, you could try the Herald’s Hall—my husband goes there sometimes. Mostly town updates, nothing fancy, and not as big as the halls in larger cities. Or the Tipsy Barrel, the pub north of here. The owner hears everything.”

  Veronica nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Oh! And there was that goblin and ogre mess this morning. I didn’t see it as I holed in my house, but Captain Luthen and the guards handled it. Rumor is, they had recruited a mage into their ranks.” She chuckled. “No idea if that part’s true.”

  Veronica forced a nervous laugh. Recruited, huh? Not quite.

  “Thank you, Mrs…?”

  “Sena. Sena Jamesmith.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Jamesmith.”

  1/20/2026, 8:00EST- This chapter has been edited moderately.

  In case some comments you read refer to something unusual, it may be due to the result of edits made afterward.

  Thank you for reading!