"Another late shift for you, Em," my boss told me ten minutes before closing time.
"Same as almost every bloody Friday for the last ten months," I grumbled, "and let me guess, it's urgent as usual, the customer's willing to pay a ridiculous amount extra and they want the job done by tomorrow morning."
"You know the drill by now," my boss replied. 
"It's not like I had any other plans for tonight," I said, rolling my eyes as I reached for the key lying on the counter in front of me.
"Please remember to lock up the workshop when you're alone. I know we're in a relatively safe area, but you can never be too careful." 
I replied with a weary smile, "Stop worrying just because I'm a girl. Besides, there are plenty of tools lying around that I could use as weapons if need be. Still - could you help me push the car onto the lift before you call it a day? It took me ages last time. This part alone is a pain in the ass".

This was the usual Friday evening conversation between my boss and me. I used to do all the last-minute repairs for my employer on Friday evenings, for which he paid me a nice tax-free bonus. It was a win-win situation for both of us. The repairs usually took half the night, which usually meant a lot of extra cash for me. The only real downside was that I often fell asleep on the old dirty couch in the garage when I was done. Getting home at 2 or 3 in the morning was only possible by taxi and I preferred to save the money. I had my driving licence, I just didn't have a car. Thanks to my extra shifts, the garage here in York had gained a good reputation and I had enough money in the bank to take a few months off to travel or do other things. 

My name is Emsley Thompson. I was born and raised in Manchester and now live in York. My colleagues call me Em. It was the first thing I asked them to do when I started work. The reason is quite simple: I hate my name. Sounds funny, because my name is the only thing that's special about me. I turned nineteen on the 4th of May, two weeks ago. Nothing to celebrate, really, but my colleagues at work bought me a cake because they knew there was no one waiting for me at home. As I had no friends, there was no one else who wanted to celebrate with me. My mum died shortly after I was born, my dad passed away in a car accident four years ago and I don't have any siblings. And the rest of my folks? Screw them. I don't care about them. They turned their backs on me when my dad was six feet under.

Luckily my dad had an old friend called Finn. He was the owner of a scrap car yard and allowed me to tinker around there day in and day out. The old man became my personal guardian angel when I was on the brink of losing control of my life. He persuaded me to drop out of school and used his connections to get me my current job as a mechanic in a suburb of York. He used to say, "Lass, you don't need to drag your butt to school. You have other opportunities in life."

If I had to describe myself there's only one word that comes to mind - I'm quite small. I'm not even five feet tall and at first glance I look rather frail. Looking at me, you would never expect me to be a car mechanic. But do not underestimate me. Working in the garage has made me stronger than I look. The only problem is that I have developed quite an inferiority complex about my size. Seriously, who doesn't love shopping in the children's section of their favourite clothing store?

Ignoring my height, I'm actually quite happy with the way I look. My breasts could be a bit bigger, as boys my age are more interested in girls with more assets, but otherwise I think I've developed well. Yes, I had to help out a bit, but who cares? Who doesn't dye their hair these days, has tattoos all over their body and piercings in various visible and invisible places. But there are also two things I have always liked about myself - my deep blue eyes and my slim waist. So I'm not a hopeless case.

It was supposed to be a simple repair. Heavy oil leak. Car won't start. Towed in by a breakdown lorry, it said on the scratch pad next to the key. With the help of my boss, I had the car on the lift in no time and the repair turned out to be a piece of cake. We had the parts in stock and I was looking forward to not having to sleep on the old sofa in the garage this time. I muttered to myself, "Now let's top up the oil and see if the car starts". Unfortunately, I must have missed something that day. The last thing I remember was an explosion and a shock wave that threw me against the wall of the garage. The impact was so strong that I lost consciousness immediately.

"That was really close. Just a few seconds later and you would have been gone forever," I suddenly heard an unfamiliar voice. 
"No shit Sherlock..." I muttered as I tried to open my eyes, "I was smashed into the wall and probably buried under parts of the workshop. Anything else would have been very surprising.
"Very accurate," the voice replied, "but we don't have much time. I need you to listen to me very carefully, Em."
"Let me guess. If I open my eyes now, I will only see darkness," I murmured.
"Or the light. Or nothing. Call it whatever you want," the voice replied as she began to introduce herself, "My name is Aurora. In your world you would probably call me a goddess. But it would be more accurate to describe me as a guardian responsible for several timelines."
"And I'm Emsley and I won first prize in the last Miss Universe contest," I replied in a very sarcastic tone.

At first I thought someone was trying to make fun of me, but the unbearable silence irritated me. It was Friday, after all, and even though the garage was in a fairly quiet suburb of York, I should have heard at least some street noise. Aurora didn't really care about my rude reaction - instead she just continued to explain my current situation in a calm and peaceful manner: "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the impact broke your neck and killed you instantly."

“You are fuckin’ kiddin’ me, arent u?” was my first reaction and I’m fully aware that this was not very ladylike. Spending most of my life either in a garage or on a scrapyard has coloured my vocabulary a little. Aurora ignored all my rude comments and continued her monologue, "I'm here to offer you a second chance. A new life in another world. No need to be a hero. You can live your life as you wish. But I won't be able to take you back to your old life. I'm currently not powerful enough to change events so that you would have survived the impact. But I think you will fit perfectly into the world I have in mind for you... especially as I can sense a great deal of ether in you.”

Let’s face the facts, my options are to take it or leave it and be gone forever. In case Aurora was not just a product of my imagination, this offer was better than nothing. The decision was surprisingly easy - since I had nothing left to lose. 

"In other words - you are offering me a reincarnation in another world."
"Indeed. But I'm afraid I can't grant you more than one ability at the moment. My power is currently limited. So please choose wisely." 
I decided to try, as any scenario would be better than being dead. I was only 19. My life had just begun. 
"Show me my options," I mumbled and Aurora said "As you wish.” A list of possible skills appeared in front of my eyes. I scanned it quickly and was surprised.
"This is not what I expected. Where is the boring stuff like inhuman strength, super speed or the ability to smell colours? Okay. Forget that last one... I was just trying to be funny."
"Take your time. It's a very important decision."
I was about to make a rather rude comment about her lack of humour, but she suddenly surprised me. 
"And you are right. The skills on the list are special. Otherwise it would be boring for both of us. Besides, I get the feeling that you are not the kind of girl who is interested in things like inhuman strength."

I scrolled through the list of skills again, and some of them turned out to be quite interesting - but unfortunately they didn't fit my personality. 
"Communication with animals? That's a big, big NO. Imagine... every donkey or monkey talking to you about their life story. Fuck my life..."
"Healing touch? OK. That sounds lame...and I'm not really a caring person. I would say our Em is definitely not a healer."
"Visions of the future. Yeah...um...no. Definitely not interested in earning my money as a fortune teller."
"Mind control. Aurora? Can I make a suggestion? How about some high-level descriptions?"
As soon as Aurora said "As you wish", some more explanations appeared, "But it was much more fun to watch you without further details."

"Okay. Screw that mind control skill," I muttered after reading the explanation. There were still two skills left.
"Now it gets interesting. I knew you would ignore the other options. It was a test and I was just curious if my reading of you was correct."
"I passed a test? That didn't happen very often at school." 
When Aurora remained silent, I continued with my choice.
"Restoration magic or repair magic. Wouldn't mind taking both skills, but if I really have to choose. Could be an easy choice."
I expected Aurora to say something, but she remained silent. I had the feeling that she really didn't want to influence my decision.

"Restoration Magic - A magical power that allows you to renew or revitalise things that have been damaged or weakened by the use of ether".

I started to read aloud, realising that this skill didn't really suit my interests.

"Repair Magic - A magical power that allows you to use ether to repair something that is broken or malfunctioning."

I read the description and muttered, "That's definitely more my style. Sounds like this skill allows you to tinker in the other world. Lovin’ it.”
"As you wish," Aurora replied, and after a few moments of silence, she began to prepare our farewell. 

"Before we part, I would like to give you a small gift. An item bag.”
A small leather bag with a wrench made of copper thread sewn into it appeared before my eyes.
"It will allow you to store a large amount of food and other items, and they will not rot."
For a moment I was perplexed.
"Thank you. I mean it," I replied, admiring the skilfully made bag, "I will take good care of it.”
I was well aware that this was the most cliché gift she could give me. But I was happy about it anyway.

"I must send you and your present body to your new world."
I cut her off before she could finish her sentence.
"Can I ask you for one favour? Just one? I haven't asked for anything yet. So please - at least - hear me out."
"I can probably grant you one last wish, if it is within my power. But hurry. I'm afraid we have to finish our meeting."
"You said I would be reincarnated with my current body. All my tattoos, piercings, scars. That's good. That's little Em. But is there any way you could make me bigger? Just a little bit?" 
I practically begged her.
"I'm afraid that would be beyond my power."
"Understood," I had serious problems hiding my disappointment, "If that's not possible, could you at least make my current hair colour permanent? I never want to see my street dog hair colour again."
"If this small change will make you happy... I think I can do it. This should be within my power. And now. Goodbye. Take care of yourself. If you need guidance, I'm sure you'll find a way to contact me again.”