《The World That Was》 Prologue 3 July 2025 The Sun blazed bright against the black emptiness of space. Charged particles raged deep beneath its surface to fuel the celestial furnace, just as they had for millennia. But something unnatural disrupted their age-old procession and the particles felt the tug of an outside force. It was slight, but enough to disturb paths that had been predetermined for aeons. Ever obedient to Nature¡¯s laws, the particles surged along their new trajectory and began a long journey. Towards Earth. Few knew that anything was awry until their phones stopped working. Freed from technology¡¯s tight grip, people looked up from their devices and craned their necks to marvel as ribbons of light streamed across the sky. The Sun had spewed large flares before but this one was different. Huge, and cast directly into Earth¡¯s orbit. It well surpassed the Carrington Event, an 1859 solar flare so strong that it powered disconnected telegraph lines and brightened the night-time sky enough that goldminers resumed their work in the middle of the night. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. What came to be known as the Long Day was just as intense, but longer. Auroras streaked across the sky for fourteen hours. Night became day and nowhere on the planet was untouched. Although initially alluring, the flare devastated the delicate web of silicon chips around which humanity had built its civilisation. Cars and phones. Power grids and pacemakers. In mere hours, the entire intricate web was fried by electrical currents induced by the storm raging in the magnetosphere above. An unnerving silence descended across the planet and the full impact only became apparent when the auroras faded. Families tried in vain to contact their loved ones and immobilised vehicles clogged arterial roads, obstructing the endless stream of food required to feed cities¡¯ bulging populations. Anarchy erupted as overwhelmed governments struggled to coordinate relief efforts, battling against others who sought to leverage the calamity for their own selfish ends. Food and medicines ran out in days. Within weeks, all was chaos. Hundreds of millions died across the globe. Yet it was at the start of this period of pandemonium that a lone physicist ¨C working with pencil and paper during a cross-country journey back home ¨C made the biggest scientific breakthrough of all time. Time travel. Chapter One 10 April 2037 ¡°This is it! Today we¡¯ll make history. By remaking it.¡± The control room burst into a flurry of crisp white lab coats as Institute scientists enthusiastically broke from the huddle around their dear leader and rushed to finish preparations for their historic undertaking. The air was electric, buzzing with the businesslike babble of engineers and the hum of charging capacitors. It was all too much for David. A simple history teacher in a sea of brilliant technical minds. He extracted himself from the fray and slunk into the comfort of the background. He was drawn to the yellow-tinted window at the front of the control room and stared out into the Time Machine¡¯s enormous spherical cavern, watching as a crane lowered a large steel ball into position. The final precious piece. One of David¡¯s students sat cramped within the reinforced pod. Matilda. Teaching her had been the highlight of David¡¯s career. She was wise beyond her twenty-two years and the bravest person David had ever met. But she was about to leave them all behind. Forever. She was Chronomad One. The first time traveller. Humanity¡¯s greatest scientific achievement ¨C a technologically plausible theory of time travel ¨C had been discovered in the ashes of its most devastating calamity. The Long Day. Memories of the carnage flashed through David¡¯s mind. Colourful auroras streaming across the sky. Blank phones. Empty plates. Long forgotten illnesses. Violent gangs roaming a lawless land. With a shake of his head, he forced himself back to the present. Civilisation was mostly restored and, if Matilda¡¯s journey to the past succeeded, another version of humanity would never need to experience its greatest tragedy. David recognised a distinct voice amongst the control room chaos and turned to watch his childhood friend, the most brilliant physicist of the age, darting around to confirm that everything remained in place. The Institute¡¯s tireless leader caught David¡¯s gaze and angled towards the yellow window. ¡°The capacitors are almost charged and the vacuum is nearly ready,¡± Sam updated upon arrival. ¡°Let¡¯s see if this was all worth it.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sure you got your calculations right?¡± David jibed. Sam elbowed David in the ribs. ¡°Of course they¡¯re correct! They wouldn¡¯t hand over the money if this wasn¡¯t up to scratch. Are you absolutely sure she¡¯s the right one to send first?¡± Sam¡¯s playful riposte hit a nerve. David had grappled with the question for years. Matilda was only one of a cohort of budding time travellers. Chronomads as Sam had taken to calling them. As headmaster of the Institute for Temporal Relocation, David had identified fertile periods of history ¨C times of social or scientific growth preceding great upheaval ¨C and trained his students in everything they might need to journey back to each specific period. Science and medicine. Economics and politics. Even ancient languages and music. The Chronomads were Jacks and Jills of all trades and each was tasked with imparting their knowledge on the past to kickstart an early Renaissance in their new timeline. All in the hope that some future civilisation might be sufficiently advanced to defend against the inevitable Long Day. Institute scientists had lobbied for Matilda to be Chronomad One, arguing that the relative spatial and temporal proximity of her planned destination ¨C medieval England ¨C would be the simplest to tune with their fledgling Time Machine. But with wormhole technology in its infancy, only a small portal could be opened. For a split second. Just long enough to send Matilda back to the past. Alone. And without another enormous Time Machine waiting for her in the past, there could be no contact and Matilda¡¯s return was impossible. David had performed the ethical gymnastics required to justify exiling someone from existence but still had reservations about sending a lone woman into the past. He campaigned to postpone until Sam¡¯s wormhole technology matured enough to send two?person teams but a headmaster¡¯s authority wasn¡¯t enough. His concerns had been overruled and the scientists got their way. ¡°She¡¯ll do just fine,¡± David replied to Sam, also reassuring himself. ¡°She¡¯s the most pragmatic of my students and beat all of our tests. Provided she had her textbook.¡± Sam shrugged. ¡°I hope so. Give me nuts and bolts any day. There¡¯s a right and wrong answer with this technical stuff. It¡¯s black and white. Too many shades of grey when you throw in the human element. You can keep that.¡± The control room¡¯s productive atmosphere shattered as the door burst open and the Institute¡¯s flamboyant spokesman entered, inanely nattering away. Matilda¡¯s distraught family trailed behind him, fresh from their final farewell. The mother gripped her young son¡¯s hand, her eyes red and puffy. ¡°This man is an utter idiot,¡± David hissed to Sam as he left to intercept the spokesman. ¡°No tact at all. These people are about to lose their daughter!¡± David marched over to the family and gave them a consoling smile. ¡°Welcome, Sullivan family. I trust that Matilda appreciated your company as they loaded her into the pod?¡± Matilda¡¯s father gave a curt nod as his wife wiped her eyes. David had longed to say his own final farewell but respected the family¡¯s need for privacy in those precious final minutes. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. He brusquely dismissed the spokesman, noting the family¡¯s visible relief as the man left to prepare for the post?Drop press conference. Hoping to provide a distraction, David crouched to the level of Matilda¡¯s younger brother. ¡°Hi Richie. Have they shown you how this all works?¡± The boy nodded. ¡°Tell me,¡± David nudged, gesturing at the giant machine. The boy led David to the viewing pane and pointed out the Time Machine¡¯s key features, leaving Matilda¡¯s parents to their mournful embrace. ¡°Tilly¡¯s going back to help the King,¡± Richie said matter-of-factly, ¡°to teach him medicine. And science. That laser will make a door to the past but after it closes, it can¡¯t ever open again.¡± Richie continued, impressing David with the level of technical detail he understood about the process. Only eight or nine, he was well advanced for his age. Just like his sister. ¡°And that ball just above the centre is¡­where Tilly is,¡± Richie said finally with an involuntary sob. David gave the boy¡¯s shoulder a consoling squeeze and returned him to his mother. An engineer announced that the capacitors were fully charged as they walked across the room. Not long now. David withdrew an analogue radio from his pocket, a rare piece of technology since the Long Day. ¡°We¡¯ve got enough time for one final farewell.¡± Phone conversations always felt impersonal, never as good as the real thing, but Matilda¡¯s mother beamed with unbridled excitement as David switched on the radio. ¡°Matilda? Are you there? It¡¯s David. Can you hear us?¡± The line went to static before the first distorted words came through the speaker. ¡°David?¡± came Matilda¡¯s distorted voice. ¡°Can you hear me?¡± ¡°We sure can,¡± David replied with a grin as Matilda¡¯s family lit up with joy. ¡°I¡¯ve got your family here and they¡¯d love to speak with you.¡± David handed the radio to Matilda¡¯s mother, showing her how to use the archaic device. ¡°Tilly? Tilly? How are you doing in there? How are you feeling?¡± Static. ¡°I¡¯m alright Mum. I didn¡¯t know if David¡¯s surprise would work.¡± Matilda¡¯s mother fought to hold back tears and savoured her daughter¡¯s final words. Sensing her mother¡¯s mood, Matilda continued. ¡°It¡¯s so surreal. I¡¯m torn between excitement at doing the thing I¡¯ve worked so hard for and the impossible sadness of saying goodbye to all of you. It feels like only yesterday that I was bouncing around home in my Institute uniform, begging to leave for the new school.¡± Matilda¡¯s mother nodded furiously but silently broke down and handed the receiver to her husband. ¡°Always the excited one, Til. I¡¯ve never seen a twelve?year?old so eager for homework. Channel that enthusiasm when you reach the other side. You¡¯ve put in a decade of hard work and we¡¯re all so proud. Words can¡¯t describe how much we¡¯ll all miss you but it¡¯s reassuring to know you¡¯ll be out there saving the world. I¡¯m still hoping your colleagues might work some of their science magic to find you again.¡± Matilda started to reply but gave a sob, followed by a long static. David sometimes forgot, with all Matilda¡¯s brilliance, that she was still just a young girl forced to say farewell to her family forever. ¡°Thanks Dad,¡± she eventually croaked. ¡°I love you all so much! And hey, the Institute has some really clever people so who knows? Perhaps Richie could figure it out, he¡¯s smarter than me by far.¡± Little Richie¡¯s chest swelled at his sister¡¯s words and he snatched the radio from his father. ¡°I¡¯ll do it for you Tilly! Maybe if I can get the photoms to travel faster..?¡± Static, as Richie dropped the receiver in his excitement. Matilda¡¯s strained laugh carried through the radio. ¡°Faster photons would definitely do it, we¡¯ll be talking again in no time.¡± Short static. ¡°Hey Richie?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Can you promise to look after Mum and Dad for me? You¡¯re the only fun one still at home so make sure they don¡¯t get too boring. And try to eat all your vegetables. But mostly look after Mum and Dad.¡± ¡°I promise Tilly,¡± Richie replied solemnly. ¡°Even the mushrooms.¡± An engineer at the back of the room announced that ideal vacuum had been achieved. It was time. ¡°Sorry,¡± David interjected as gently as possible. ¡°We need to start the final stage of the process. Can you please say your goodbyes?¡± David stepped away to give the family some semblance of privacy for their final moments, holding back until Sam shot a particularly stern look. He moved in to take the receiver from Matilda¡¯s grateful but distraught father. ¡°Hey, Matilda?¡± ¡°Hi David.¡± Matilda sounded understandably flat. ¡°I know you¡¯re tired of hearing it but we really are proud of you. You¡¯re doing something truly amazing today. You¡¯ll be in every history book and spoken of in every household. I promise.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll totally hold you to that,¡± Matilda replied sarcastically. Static. ¡°You go and change the world,¡± David said. ¡°We¡¯ll all be thinking of you.¡± Static. ¡°David? I know it¡¯s not your job. But. Could you look after my family for me? You know, just check in on them every now and then?¡± David smiled. ¡°That was always a given Matilda. You have my word.¡± ¡°Thanks, so much,¡± Matilda choked. ¡°For everything. You¡¯ve been so much more than a teacher. For all of us.¡± ¡°It¡¯s been an honour.¡± David paused. ¡°Matilda, we really have to say goodbye now. The vein on Sam¡¯s head is about to burst.¡± ¡°Ok. Thanks again David.¡± ¡°Goodbye Matilda. Good luck.¡± There was a final click as David turned off the radio. He gave the all clear but Sam was already barking orders. There was a final flurry of activity and then, all of a sudden, the room was silent. Tense. David heard his heartbeat in his ears. An engineer started the countdown. ¡°Portal in 20.¡± David walked back towards the viewing pane and stood beside Matilda¡¯s family. ¡°Ten.¡± A red light began to flash in the control room. ¡°Nine.¡± Matilda¡¯s mother wept silently into her husband¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Eight.¡± The cavern lights went out. A single spotlight illuminated Matilda¡¯s pod. ¡°Seven.¡± Sam joined David by the window. ¡°Six.¡± David looked out at the pod, hoping that Matilda could see them all watching her. ¡°Five.¡± A photographer¡¯s camera let off a flash, recording the historic moment. ¡°Four.¡± Richie¡¯s head bumped against the glass. ¡°Three.¡± David¡¯s stomach churned. ¡°Two. Avert gaze!¡± Everyone looked away from the centre of the chamber. ¡°One.¡± The room froze. Suddenly, there was a brilliant flash of light. David managed to look back just in time to glimpse a small sphere of bright blue sky in the centre of the cavern and Matilda¡¯s shiny pod falling into it. The sphere disappeared, leaving the Time Machine an empty dark shell once more. It worked! David felt a conflicting mix of elation and loss. The tense silence of the control room evaporated and there was a frenzy of activity as the scientists and engineers ran their various diagnostics. Machines emitted alarms and scientists yelled out numbers. Matilda¡¯s poor family crouched by the window in a tight huddle. An island of grief, weeping at the loss of their child and sister. The cries of the scientists continued. ¡°O2 and atmosphere normal.¡± ¡°Capacitor temperature well within safe margins.¡± ¡°Wormhole stability greater than anticipated.¡± And then Sam called out. ¡°Lat-long confirmed! Quantock forest. Somerset, England. Elevation two hundred and twenty-four meters.¡± There was a cheer from the control room. Silence descended again before another scientist bellowed out the information they were all waiting for. ¡°Pulsar triangulation complete. Date confirmed. September 24, 1123.¡± Chapter Two 24 September 1123 ¡°Goodbye Matilda. Good luck.¡± Matilda switched off her radio as the finality of David¡¯s words echoed around the pod. Wiping away tears, she stared through the pod¡¯s porthole to savour the view of her family¡¯s silhouettes. One last time. A light started to flash in the distant control room, signalling her imminent departure. Already thundering, her heart leapt into overdrive. Her sweaty palms clutched the radio to her chest. Stilling herself, she took a deep breath and waited. Suddenly, there was a brilliant flash of light. And then she was falling. There was a strange feeling of being squeezed all over and a slight change in trajectory as she passed through the wormhole but within several rapid heartbeats the dark interior of the time machine swapped to a sunny blue sky. Matilda jolted as the pod¡¯s parachute deployed. Her stomach lurched and had only just settled back down from her throat when the crashes started, small at first but quickly growing in intensity as her pod pinballed through the branches of a tree. The Chronomad and her carefully packed belongings were flung around within the cramped ball. She heard something snap. The pod glanced off the tree¡¯s roots and rolled a short distance down a hill before coming to a surprisingly gentle stop. Matilda felt jostled and disoriented, hanging upside down at an awkward angle. The strange feeling of compression from the wormhole lingered. Matilda took a moment to just hang in place in sheer disbelief as her heart rate finally settled. She¡¯d done it! After years of training, it had taken only seconds to make her historic journey. And farewell everything she knew. The Institute¡¯s psychologists had warned that the transition would be the most emotionally charged period of her journey. But they¡¯d prepared her for it. She wiped her eyes and set her resolve. Time to save the world¡­ Matilda emerged from her pod with all the grace of a newborn bird, a tangle of long limbs and curly red hair. She crawled awkwardly from the obstructed pod opening and out into Twelfth Century England, scrambling on her stomach through the mess of parachute cords. After hours of being curled within the cramped sphere, Matilda savoured the luxury of space as she stood. She stretched her athletic frame, reaching high and standing on the tips of her toes to occupy as much space as possible. Relieved to be out of the dark pod and still amazed to have survived the Drop, she was unsuccessfully brushing herself off when suddenly, she heard it. Nothing. Absolute silence. Complete stillness. There had always been some form of commotion in Matilda¡¯s busy life. Her mother crashing around the kitchen, a roommate snoring, engineers arguing or teachers droning. The construction works on Sam¡¯s Time Machine. But now there was just silence. Matilda strained her ears and slowly started to make out the sounds of birds and other creatures rustling in the undergrowth. The forest teemed with life. Matilda soaked in the unspoilt Twelfth Century landscape around her. Undulating hills sloped down to a riverbed and the trees were yellowing in the autumn sun, a beautiful tapestry of yellows, reds and greens. Dappled morning sunlight filtered through the canopy and a slight breeze made the scene shimmer. It was beautiful. Matilda took a deep breath of the fresh forest air and, amongst earthy smell of decaying leaves, detected an acrid chemical scent emanating from within her pod. The smell jerked her back to the present and reminded her of the work to be done. The dented metal sphere came up to Matilda¡¯s waist and was particularly heavy when loaded with all of her supplies. She bundled up the parachute before heaving the pod upright and wrestling it into a workable position. Matilda reached inside and pulled out the pod¡¯s contents piece by piece, rushing to ensure leaking chemicals didn¡¯t damage her other precious possessions. She carefully inspected each item before arraying them haphazardly on the forest floor around the ball. Matilda first withdrew her satchel which contained her most precious possession, a copy of the Institute¡¯s standard-issue Chronomad textbook. Rebound with her own custom leather cover and filled with a decade of notes and annotations, Matilda called it her bible. It was rarely out of her sight. Relieved that there was no visible damage, Matilda continued to rifle through her limited belongings. Out came her bow, some arrows, a shovel. A change of clothes, a tent, her flint and a jumble of cooking equipment. Beside these she placed a box of plant seeds, a hatchet, a spare torch, a telescope, a warm blanket, a small pack of rations. Last to emerge was her comprehensive first aid kit and a case of bottled chemicals. It was in the case that Matilda found the source of the smell, a cracked bottle of acetone. The spill was mostly contained within the case and fortunately hadn¡¯t mingled with any of her more reactive reagents. When the pod was finally empty, Matilda stepped back to take stock of her entire inventory of worldly possessions. She¡¯d worked with the Institute planners for months to plan and procure everything she might need for her mission and was still baffled at how much fitted within the compact metallic sphere. She also had the clothes on her back. Each piece had been expertly crafted, from the warm fur?lined cloak down to her wonderfully supple calf-length leather boots. Amidst Japanese kimonos and Roman tunics, the Institute¡¯s seamstress had tried her best to match Matilda¡¯s descriptions of Twelfth Century historical fashions. Matilda thought the high quality materials would broadcast her wealth, something she hoped to use to her advantage when she reached London, but she worried that it could attract unwanted attention while travelling. Her fancy clothes hid an additional treasure, one that even the King would lust after. The Institute¡¯s final parting gift was a vest of titanium chainmail, 3D printed to her exact dimensions using a remarkably fine mesh. Sam promised that it could stop even an arrow while still remaining light enough to wear every day. It was an extra security in an unfamiliar world and Matilda had no intention of ever taking it off. A handful of sentimental personal objects were also among the spartan collection of practical items. A small bottle of champagne from David. One of Richie¡¯s poorly painted toy soldiers. Her grandmother¡¯s engagement ring and a family photo. Notably absent among her possessions was a firearm. The Institute planners had wanted her to bring one for self-defence but Matilda had strongly declined, insisting that she hoped to create a timeline that skipped combustible technologies wherever possible. It was only by demonstrating her proficiency with a bow and highlighting the difficulties of obtaining additional ammunition that her Institute supervisors finally surrendered. Matilda smiled at the memory. David had often joked about what a wilful young woman she had grown to be, so different to the meek twelve-year-old who had arrived at the Institute a decade earlier. He¡¯d asked, only semi?rhetorically, where his teachings had gone wrong. Satisfied that her belongings were in order, Matilda¡¯s mind snapped to her next task. Finding out precisely when and where she had landed. She couldn¡¯t calculate the date until the stars emerged but knew that keeping busy would stop her mind from dwelling on the enormity of the past hour. Instead, Matilda settled for exploring her more immediate surroundings and getting her first proper glimpse of the past. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. She paused to consider the safety of her belongings but laughed at the absurdity. The dense forest was pristine, entirely untouched by humans. Excluding the giant metal sphere and the broken branches hanging from a nearby tree, of course. Matilda judged that she was probably far from the nearest settlement and decided it was safe to leave her belongings scattered across the forest floor. It was unlikely that anyone would stumble across them in the short time she was gone and forest critters would find them an unsatisfying snack. Matilda marvelled at the sheer beauty of the forest and its lack of human contact as she trekked towards the peak of a nearby hill. Despite being almost a thousand years younger, this forest felt much older than those she¡¯d explored during her adolescence. Thick gnarled trees stood where they had for centuries. By Matilda¡¯s time, anything that ancient had been harvested for timber or firewood. A particularly large oak awaited Matilda at the crest of the hill. It looked perfect for climbing and seemed a decent vantage point for inspecting the surrounding landscape. She nimbly scaled the trunk and grabbed hold of its lowest branches, clambering up the tree like a reckless schoolchild. Matilda paused in awe when she reached the uppermost branches. She could see for miles and marvelled at the pristine Somerset landscape that stretched out in all directions. The only indications of human occupation were a patchwork of cultivated fields and wispy pillars of smoke rising from scattered villages. She silently thanked the Institute planners who¡¯d argued that keeping Chronomad One geographically close to Sam¡¯s time machine would simplify the physics for their calibration experiments. The region was Matilda¡¯s childhood backyard and guaranteed that she would be Chronomad One. The Time Machine and giant reactor buildings were conspicuously absent as she scanned the landscape, providing the clearest evidence that she had actually travelled back in time. Matilda¡¯s father was a doctor at the nuclear reactor and Matilda had grown up nearby, allowing her to learn more about the region and its history than even her Institute teachers. Matilda was relieved to recognise several landmarks from her own time: mountains, rivers and even a hint of coastline off in the distance. When she¡¯d found her bearings, even the pillars of smoke corresponded with familiar villages. Matilda realised that someone might have seen her parachute and she suddenly longed to get moving. She wanted to get to the King in London as quickly as possible but needed somewhere more permanent to store her pod and bulkier belongings. The Institute had recommended burying them but Matilda¡¯s family had explored a nearby cave during holidays back in the future which could double as a base camp for the first evenings of her new life. She plotted a mental course from her pod and began her descent. Eager to get started, Matilda scrambled down the tree, skipping the final branches and leaping down to the forest floor. But as her foot met the ground, a jolt of searing pain flashed up her leg and she crumpled in a heap. Matilda rolled upright and clasped her ankle tenderly, cursing both her foolishness and the disguised root that now protruded from the carpet of decaying leaves. With difficulty, she carefully removed her boot and examined the ankle with an expert eye. It didn¡¯t appear to be broken but was definitely sprained. Her loud expletive prompted nearby birds to flee from their perches. Matilda was furious with herself as she calculated the implications. She¡¯d worked with the Institute planners to craft a meticulous schedule for her journey to London and had included a little extra time for any setbacks. But Matilda couldn¡¯t travel to London with a busted ankle. It would be dangerous embarking into the strange new world without the most basic means of escape. Yet recovery would consume her entire buffer. A solitary tear of pain and frustration rolled down her cheek but Matilda pulled herself together. She hobbled downhill to her pod and quickly assessed which belongings she could carry to her new camp before neatly stacking the rest back into the sphere. She struggled to conceal the giant metal pod with forest debris but, realising the futility of the activity, instead vowed to collect her remaining belongings when she¡¯d established a more secure base of operations. Matilda fashioned herself a makeshift crutch and set off from her landing zone, limping along animal trails and river banks while juggling the various items required to set up her initial camp. She grumbled to herself as she walked but even her ankle couldn¡¯t dampen the simple joys of dipping her feet into a crystal clear stream or stopping to watch a herd of deer grazing in a glade. Familiar landmarks occasionally came into view, though the differences from her own time were jarring. The colony of ancient trees was boundless, rock formations showed reduced signs of weathering and wildlife was much more abundant. Matilda didn¡¯t relish the idea of hunting her own food with a damaged ankle but the forest inhabitants seemed much more appetising than the basic rations the Institute had provided for her initial nights in the past. The sun had already started to set when Matilda finally arrived at the entrance to a familiar gully. She stared into the depression in the landscape and saw the cave opening at its end, overgrown with ivy but undoubtedly the same cave she¡¯d once explored with Richie. Matilda gingerly hurried inside and dumped her belongings on the ground before hurrying to gather firewood while there was still light. Upon returning, Matilda hastily kindled a small fire to boil water for one of her unappetising ration packs. Her stomach rumbled and she realised that she hadn¡¯t eaten since being loaded into the pod. Matilda felt a wave of overwhelming loss begin to rise but pushed the feelings down once more. She decided to enjoy the remaining sunlight, hoping it might make her nutritious gruel slightly more bearable. She collected her satchel, telescope and David¡¯s champagne before exiting the cave and hobbling to the crest of a nearby hill where she seated herself among the roots of yet another ancient tree. A glorious pink sky signalled the end of Matilda¡¯s first day in the past and she devoured her food while the setting sun cast long shadows across the untouched landscape. She popped David¡¯s champagne as the stars emerged and celebrated the day¡¯s momentous achievements. Apart from her ankle, everything had gone according to plan. Coming from a world where her every minute had been accounted for by others, Matilda appreciated the chance to finally enjoy things on her own time. She got back to work when the sun had fully set, withdrawing her telescope and expertly measuring the position of several key stars. She performed familiar calculations in her notebook, working by the light of her hand-cranked torch. After some brief consultations with her bible, she drew a square around a date. 24 September 1123. The Institute scientists had been confident that Matilda would arrive exactly when and where they had planned but she was relieved to verify it herself. The date had been deliberately chosen to maximise the impact of her journey. England had been on the verge of a renaissance when King Henry¡¯s only heir died in a tragic shipping accident in 1120. The ensuing power struggle sparked a period of civil war known as The Anarchy, briefly teasing the possibility of female empowerment but ultimately extinguishing the flame of progress. Matilda¡¯s mission was clear. She had several weeks to journey to London and meet King Henry before he departed for a year of campaigning against rebels in Normandy. Using her knowledge and limited equipment from the future, she would win his trust and join his campaign, building influence to ensure that the greatest number of people could benefit from her teachings. By rubbing shoulders with royalty and senior clergy across Europe, she would fuel the budding renaissance and kickstart society¡¯s progress to save this timeline from the calamity that awaited their future. The Long Day. Matilda shuddered at the memory. She was only ten when she¡¯d witnessed a star¡¯s sheer power, marvelling with her parents as beautiful ribbons of light danced across the night sky. Her memories had faded but fragments of the aftermath lingered. Months without electricity. Missing favourite foods and television shows. Her father tending to an elderly neighbour, savagely beaten for protecting his backyard orchard. At only twelve, Matilda had volunteered to help the Institute undo the stellar carnage, understanding even then that it would require great personal sacrifice. She¡¯d never really been ready to leave home and her father¡¯s parting words of encouragement had reminded her of what she¡¯d lost. While she cherished her Institute friendships, they were never quite family. Matilda was pensive as she lay at the base of the ancient tree staring up at the night sky. The Milky Way was a beautiful band of shimmering stars, unobscured by light pollution and more beautiful than she¡¯d seen since the aftermath of the Long Day. So beautiful. So powerful. So dangerous. Matilda¡¯s mission was clear and she knew what needed to be done. But her ankle throbbed, a painful reminder of her own fallibility. It would need weeks to recover. Matilda rankled at the need to stay put but a part of her breathed a sigh of relief. The final weeks of preparation for her journey had been a rollercoaster of stress, anticipation and loss. As her departure loomed, she had fretted at how much she still didn¡¯t know. She worked to the very end, struggling to cram more into either her head or jotted in the margins of her bible. Only a week earlier, her frustrated Institute classmates had even resorted to hosting her combined farewell and birthday celebration in the Institute library. Matilda knew she was on the verge of burnout. Taking time for her ankle to recover might mean slightly less time to influence the King, but the resulting mental clarity could prove valuable. Her mind instantly leapt to planning crafts and activities to fill the time. But no, she needed to relax and unwind. To ease into her new life and mourn the one she¡¯d left behind. Convinced that her revised approach made sense, Matilda pushed back the niggling feelings of loss and loneliness once and for all. She placed down her tools and reclined against the tree, settling in to admire the starry night. A weight lifted from her shoulders, knowing as she swigged her champagne that she could just enjoy herself for the first time since childhood. The knowledge made it easier to process the enormity of her achievements. In a single day she had gone from a scared young woman afraid to leave her family to the most educated person on the planet. She was Chronomad One. The first time traveller. Chapter Three 4 October 1123 William bristled with frustration as he watched his family working in the fields. His father cleaved wide paths through the wheat with sweeping cuts of his scythe, while William¡¯s two eldest sisters followed in his wake and baled the cuttings to dry. William¡¯s mother and youngest sister sifted the dried grain in the shade of the field¡¯s giant oak. William had his own mindless role in the process, bashing bales of dried wheat with a flail. It had been the exact same routine for almost a month and William was sick of it. Judging by the sun, Pa was still a long way off laying down his scythe and ordering the family back home to rest. William looked down at his pile of unsifted grain and guessed there would be enough to keep Ma and Elizabeth busy for the afternoon. He glanced around the field once more and saw that his family were all absorbed in their tasks. No one paid any attention to him. A devilish thought crossed William¡¯s mind. He stole the opportunity and slunk away from the field like a sly fox, nabbing an apple from Ma¡¯s basket before dashing into the woods to find his friend. Ralph¡¯s family farmed a nearby field that also backed onto the forest. William was pleased to find Ralph¡¯s family similarly distracted with the harvest. Ralph worked alone, stacking sacks of grain into a hand cart. William tossed his apple core into the trees and snuck closer to the boy. ¡°Oi, Ralph!¡± William called in a hushed voice. ¡°Get over here!¡± The large boy jumped at the unexpected sound and looked up, spotting William hiding behind a boulder. ¡°Why are you hiding?¡± he asked, casually strolling towards the rock. ¡°Shh. Get. Over. Here. Your brothers will see you.¡± William dragged Ralph behind the boulder. ¡°How¡¯s your family almost finished already?¡± ¡°Father says it¡¯s going to be a bad year so we shortened the drying time so we¡¯d finish in the fields before the rain sets in.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± William dismissed. ¡°All I¡¯m hearing is you have time to get away for a bit.¡± Ralph started to protest but William withdrew a messy bundle from his pocket. ¡°I made another sling. Come on, let¡¯s give it a try.¡± Ralph was torn, staring at the unstacked sacks next to the cart. ¡°Mother will scold me if I leave the others to return the cart. Again.¡± ¡°Not if you bring back a pair of juicy rabbits,¡± William said in his most enticing voice. ¡°Quick, let¡¯s go!¡± William dashed off, trusting that his friend would follow. The boys were soon running through the woods on one of their usual adventures, imaging bandits waiting in ambush behind every tree. William used a curved stick as a pretend bow and Ralph fashioned himself a wooden broadsword. They ventured deep into the forest to increase their chances of finding small game. Some mischievous village elders had thought it fun to bait the boys into making a sling, knowing that their strict parents wouldn¡¯t approve. For William, the risk of getting caught by Pa ¨C a village juror ¨C only added to the illicit excitement. They found a clearing and selected an unlucky tree to use as a target for their practice. The tree had little to worry about. William was already proficient with the sling when Ralph scored his first hit. ¡°Good job,¡± William praised impatiently. ¡°Now let¡¯s find some real prey.¡± ¡°Not fair,¡± Ralph complained. ¡°You got way more throws.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll return home emptyhanded if we don¡¯t go after some real animals soon. You want upset parents, again?¡± Concern dawned on Ralph¡¯s face. ¡°Here,¡± William said with his most convincing smile, ¡°you start with the sling and I¡¯ll herd game towards you. Ten shots and then we¡¯ll swap.¡± Ralph reluctantly agreed. ¡°But what if the Baron¡¯s men find us hunting his lands? Did you hear about the old man from Dodington? They cut off his hand and that was just for having deer antlers.¡± ¡°Pa said the codger was also underpaying his taxes,¡± William dismissed. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯d need to actually catch something before worrying about the Baron.¡± The pair began their hunt, spreading out to search for prey but keeping within yelling distance. Ralph loosed his stones at a squirrel and some small birds, whooping with excitement after each attempt but managing no hits. He grudgingly handed William the sling and set off in search of game. Armed with the sling, William felt like David as he stalked through the forest. The towering trees were an army of Goliaths. William was so focussed on the hunt that he eventually realised that he couldn¡¯t hear Ralph. He called out several times but there was no response. William grew concerned. Pa had always warned that outlaws lived in the deepest parts of the forest. He forgot about the hunt and instead scoured the undergrowth for any sign of his friend. Hoping for a better vantage point to search for Ralph, William started to climb a hill when a clump of bushes rustled. Too big to be an animal, William applied tension to his sling. With a sudden flurry of movement, a large form lunged out and raced across the clearing towards William. But William was quicker and loosed a projectile at his oncoming attacker. The hardened clump of dirt hit his friend directly on the forehead, shattering upon impact. ¡°Ow!¡± Ralph complained, rubbing his head and tossing his mock sword to the ground. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. William burst out laughing, impressed at his shot. ¡°Sorry Ralph, you startled me. I¡¯m still getting used to this sling.¡± Truth be told, William had exceeded his supply of stones and had just hoped for the best if it had been a real outlaw. Not that he could admit that to Ralph. William¡¯s friend continued rubbing his head and looked up to the sun. ¡°We should head back Will. We¡¯ve been gone long enough and I really should help bring the cart home.¡± William objected. ¡°But if we cross that stream we¡¯ll be further from home than ever..!¡± ¡°No Will, my head hurts! I¡¯m going home. Seriously, your family cuts you a lot of slack but you¡¯re almost sixteen. We need to start dealing with extra responsibility before it just gets dumped on us.¡± William started another rebuttal but Ralph was already returning to the fields. ¡°Come on Ralph!¡± William called. ¡°Let¡¯s keep exploring. There¡¯s a whole lifetime of responsibility ahead of us!¡± But Ralph was gone. William kicked at a small bush and trudged down to the stream to collect more stones for his sling. He crossed the water and defiantly delved even deeper into the forest, well past any familiar landmarks. William saw many unfamiliar plants on his journey and wished his younger sister was with him. Elizabeth enjoyed gathering flowers but William knew she would never venture so far into the unknown. Elizabeth was William¡¯s favourite sister. Only a year older than William, she was a kind soul and the least likely to berate his frequent skiving from the family¡¯s work. William¡¯s older sisters were prone to constant sniping at his poor work ethic and Ma and Pa¡¯s coddling. Ralph was right. William¡¯s parents did give him special treatment, allowing him to run off on adventures and requiring fewer chores of him than the girls. Pa had always wanted a son and, after four girls, William was their pride and joy. He understood why his sisters felt hard done by, though it didn¡¯t stop him enjoying his time off. William came upon another stream and stopped for a drink. Spying some stepping stones upstream, he quickly crossed the water but slipped on the rocks, soaking his foot up to the knee. His soggy shoe made walking unpleasant but William was determined not to let some minor discomfort force him back to the harvest. William was squelching through the unfamiliar forest when he noticed a strange object hanging from the branches of a distant tree. Even from afar, he knew it was unnatural and had to be the work of a human. But why would anyone live so deep in the forest? William¡¯s curiosity got the better of him and he edged towards the hanging object. He pulled his most jagged stone taut in the sling. As he drew nearer, William was mortified to see that the hanging object was a small red doe. The poor beast hung from a rope around its hind legs. Its throat had been slashed. A slow patter of blood dripped into a pool on the forest floor, raising William¡¯s tension with each drip. The doe¡¯s lifeless eyes stared up at him. He¡¯d never seen a sadder sight and the memory of the majestic creature seared into his soul. The beast had been gutted before being hung. William poked the animal and it slowly swung around, revealing the most unusual arrow he had ever seen. A perfect black rod jutted from the animal¡¯s chest, its fletching unnaturally colourful and made of an odd material that was definitely not feather. William noticed a quiver of similar arrows propped against the base of nearby tree, beside the most bizarre bow he had ever seen. It looked to be constructed from three different parts and was barely half the size of Pa¡¯s yew longbow. The strange weapon struck William with a terrifying thought. Someone had used it to hunt the Baron¡¯s deer. Only an outlaw would be so brazen. William found the reality of an encounter with outlaws much less exciting than it had been in his games. His mind screamed danger but he found himself frozen in place. William tried to take stock of his surroundings. The tree stood near the entrance to a small gully, a sloping gouge in the land that ended with a cliff face and the jagged mouth of a cave. The gully was surrounded by trees and thick undergrowth but the entrance to the cave had been recently cleared. There were other signs of human activity around the cave entrance. A neat pile of firewood was stacked against the cliff wall and the remains of a small campfire lay near the entrance. Looking closer, William saw a roughly hewn door inside the cave entrance. A noise from within the cave startled William back to his senses and he darted away from the gully to crouch behind a nearby bush. The door opened and a strange young woman emerged from the cave. Her head was a mass of curly red hair and her clothes hugged her body. William found her very attractive. The woman sang an otherworldly song as she worked, more erratic than parish hymns but more graceful than popular drinking songs. William didn¡¯t understand the lyrics but some words sounded familiar. William enjoyed watching the woman move purposefully around the camp, kindling a fire and placing a pot of water to boil. She re-entered the cave and emerged with a long knife. William was wondering what she planned to do with it when she hobbled up from the gully and straight to the doe, only a stone¡¯s throw from where William crouched frozen in place. The tall woman lowered the doe and tenderly lay it on the ground before using her knife to extract the arrow from the beasts¡¯ chest. She cleaned the arrow on her tight leggings and placed it into her quiver before starting to butcher the beast. She cut with expert precision, each slice of her blade removing a specific chunk of meat. Looking satisfied with her harvest, she hauled the carcass back up the tree and out of reach of forest scavengers. William wished he had a knife to portion a chunk for his family. The strange woman returned to her fire and threaded the meat on a makeshift spit to hang over the flames. The aroma of roasting meat filled the gully and William¡¯s stomach grumbled at the rich smell. He¡¯d only tried venison a handful of times but knew exactly what he was missing. The woman retrieved the meat as the outer edges began to char and bit into it, crying out as the hot juices ran down her chin. She looked to be enjoying herself and showed no signs of remorse at killing the Baron¡¯s deer. William skirted around the gully to sit behind her, eager to learn more about the Stranger but anxious not to be caught. The woman packed away her food and started carving an ornate piece of timber. She didn¡¯t match William¡¯s expectations of an outlaw, not nearly half as deranged as Pa had described of his own outlaw encounters. Hoping to get a better view of the campsite, William edged closer to the cliff. As he crawled, his elbow dislodged a rock which tumbled down the cliff face. William threw himself flat on the ground and felt the Stranger¡¯s gaze pass over him. Down below, he heard her set down her carving and rise from her spot next to the fire. William didn¡¯t wait to see if she was approaching. He ran. William skirted around the gully and dashed back across the stream. He ignored the stepping stones altogether and ploughed straight through the water. William didn¡¯t stop running until he began to notice familiar landmarks. Exhausted, he paused to listen for any sign that the Stranger had pursued him but the only sounds were the calls of distant birds and the wind rustling through the canopy. Even then, he walked cautiously. It was twilight by the time William slouched back to his family¡¯s field, only to find that they had already packed up for the day and returned home. William trudged back to the village as darkness fell and saw Ralph chopping firewood in penance for their day¡¯s adventures. Noting the purple lump that had formed above Ralph¡¯s eye, William gave an apologetic wave. Ralph waved back and all was forgiven. William arrived at his family¡¯s cottage and went to stash his sling in his favourite hiding place. Reaching into his pocket, he was surprised to find only a couple of smooth river rocks. The sling was nowhere to be found. He prayed that the outlaw woman wouldn¡¯t find the evidence of his visit. William entered the cottage and sat down for the evening meal. He ignored his sister¡¯s taunts and let Ma¡¯s scolding flow over him while his mind raced over what he had seen that day. Surviving his first encounter with an outlaw filled him with confidence and William vowed to return to the cave. Soon. A Final Note It has been quite the adventure sharing my novel here on Royal Road. The engagement from readers has been amazing and your comments and edit suggestions have helped make the book much better. Taking onboard the amazing feedback I received, I have substantially altered the beginning of the story to address readers¡¯ recurring key concerns. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. In the interests of preserving the wonderful comments from this initial release of the novel, I will be re-posting the story with its new opening over the coming weeks, two chapters each day to align with my Kickstarter period. As an added bonus, I will be offering a single hand-bound copy of my novel to the person who correctly first compiles the most complete list of the gifts that Matilda brings back from the future. Five paperback copies will also be available to the people I think made the most meaningful contributions to discussion about the novel. So please check out the new version of the novel (test readers have said it¡¯s even better upon a second read) and join in the conversation about the book (including the newish Discord). Thanks so much! Go for launch! It¡¯s been ten years of research, eight months of writing, eighteen months of editing and fifteen months of prepping for publishing. After such a massive adventure it is with HUGE excitement that I can say The World That Was is here! It is finally a real book and is now available for the general public to purchase!!! I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has joined me along the journey. The friends and family who weathered years of story ideas, historical tidbits and travels to obscure locations. The test-readers who provided vital guidance on early drafts. The internet strangers-to-friends I have met along the way. The feedback I have received at all stages of the project has been instrumental to shaping the final narrative that is now being sent out to all corners of the globe. Copies can be purchased through Amazon or directly through my web-store ¨C all physical copies purchased through my website will be signed and there are still twenty copies of the 100 limited-run Early Adopter Editions available. I am travelling in the UK this Easter weekend to try getting the book stocked in some Somerset bookstores (one of my long-time goals) and I will spend the coming weeks working to further expand distribution and create the next batch of hand-bound copies. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. I am still awaiting confirmation from the winner of my mailing list contest (who will receive a copy of the hand-bound edition) so there is still a chance to go in the running. I will start preparing the hand-bound versions after I return from sunny UK. For those awaiting your physical copies of the book, I am pleased to share that the first paperback copies were waiting for me when I arrived at the hotel in Bath. They have come up an absolute treat and I even managed to nab a few pics with the book at important locations from the story. The Early Adopter Editions and remaining paperback copies are en route to Vienna so I should be able to finally host a launch party to distribute copies in person and a giant box of padded envelopes also awaits my return to Vienna for those supporters further afield. It is a massive relief to get this project over the line and yet, this is not the end of the adventure¡­ I am working to spread word about the book to as many people as possible, am in the process of getting an audiobook recorded and already have ideas bouncing around for my next writing project. Sequel? Prequel? Spin off? Something completely different¡­ Let me know what you think I should work on next and help spread the word about The World That Was. Every rating, review or social media post goes a long way to making my next project a reality. Woooooooooo!!!