The wind howled through the narrow mountain pass, carrying the scent of impending snow. Master Elian pulled his heavy wool cloak tighter around his shoulders, his breath fogging in the freezing air. He looked at the device secured to his wrist, its brass housing gleaming faintly in the dim light of the setting sun.
Elian looked down at his wrist. The display had returned to its steady glow, the main counter now reading 10:12:15. The temporal rift had been sealed, and this pocket of reality was safe once again. 440-2838-008.jpg