The year was 1503 and Y/n was William’s whole existence. Until a flood that took it all. In a desperate effort on her part to save those struggling in the depths. Her sacrifice, noble as it was, cost everything. William pulled her, sopping and still, from the churning waves. But it was too late. Overcome with grief and a savage need to have her back, he took to arcane magic. For eighteen months, he barely ate or slept, until the rune was complete. The ritual. In a blinding flash of light and a feeling of being sucked through a tube of fire, he found himself in a field. Before him was a girl. His girl. And she had no idea who he was.