The mage’s thought, her goal for the last hundred years of compiling thought upon thought upon though a thousandfold, broke. Her concentration, unblemished for more than a century, tucked away into her pocket dimension created for the express purpose of achieving her meditative goals, was shattered by the one thing she had not accounted for shielding herself against, her own spells. She allowed her body to relax, her limbs stretching for the first time in a century as the remnants of the alarm spell still rung through her mind.

All of her options lay before her consideration. She could ignore it, go back to her meditation and start from the beginning. Time mattered little to the functionally immortal, and a hundred years, though considerable, could be passed again without much effort on her part.

Although there was always the possibility of more interruptions, of further remnants of her material existence intruding on her extraplanar efforts, corrupting or tainting anything she attempted. No, she rationed her best option would be to utterly annihilate anything connecting her to the material plane.

As soon as she committed to, instead, return to the material plane and resolve all of her outstanding spells, light coalesced into a rod against her palm then immediately dispersed into nothingness and then her staff was in her hand. Following it almost immediately light gathered around her and became her vestments.

Without wasted time or motion, she slipped out of her private dimension and back into the material plane, precisely where she meant to be. It was difficult, now suddenly burdened by the physical world, to determine exactly how long had passed since she’d departed, or indeed, how long had passed since her alarm spell had triggered, but her spatial orientation was spot on.

She stood on a hill, overlooking the valley in which stood her tower. The tower itself was far worse for wear than she remembered it. Instead of the shining white stone she had crafted it from, there was dull grey rock peeking through an aggressive network of vines that had climbed much of the exterior. The vegetation gave the tower an almost serene appearance, as though it had sprung out of the woody hills.

The mage wasted no more time, raising her staff, a rod of pure nightsky, twinkling with distant stars and absorbing other light, spoke a brief incantation, and turned away before the column of starlight consumed the tower from the heavens. She turned back briefly, to survey the results. Where the tower had stood there was a barren circle, nothing but dirt there remained. The brilliance of the spell reminded her and she conjured the last piece of her attire, a wide brimmed hat to shield her eyes.

She could still feel a piece of her worldly magic nearby, toward the East.

She smiled as her memories came back to her of a previous life. Everything she had suppressed in her meditations, all her feelings and her emotions welled up and swirled in her mind. She savored the sensations.

“Kor, you little shit.” She said to herself. “I am so looking forward to seeing you again.”