I do not know how long I lay there, passed out. It could have been hours or it could have been minutes or even seconds. When I came to, my mind felt fuzzy like I was trying pull my thoughts from deep underwater. It was a strange feeling, not quite like a dream but more like I was here but not here. There more I tried to focus the more my thoughts slipped away. My mind was so fizzy, I couldn’t even remember why was I laying on the floor.
I opened my eyes, only to find I couldn’t see. I wasn’t blind, it just was pitch black. Not a metaphorical darkness. There was no light at all. I have never seen this kind of darkness. Even in my home, rural as it is, with no electricity, the night is never completely dark even on a moonless night. I was laying on the floor, in the darkness so thick I could feel it on my skin. Why? In corner of my mind, I knew the answer but it was somehow eluding me. I couldn’t focus long enough to hold a thought.
Ding!
Rest is very restorative.
Health 9/10
Welcome to Jena’s Lair
What is your mutupo?
I shot upright in panic! The ding! As soon as I head that sound, adrenaline poured straight into my veins. The grogginess cleared in a blink and a cascade of memories and feelings flooded me. I remembered everything, the forest, the mist, the cold, the confusion, the fear and the pain. Oh, the excruciating pain! It took me a second to realise that I wasn’t in pain anymore. In fact, I was feeling great! I gingerly stood up, afraid of jarring myself and bringing the pain back. Slowly, I stretched and nothing. I felt nothing. I was okay. There was not even twinge of pain. I was so relieved.
The relief didn’t clear away the fear, anxiety and confusion I was feeling, though. Now that my memories were back, the question still remained: where was I? I was pretty sure I was not dreaming, about 97% sure. The pain had been way to real. I held on to the 3% because I hoped I was wrong. I had to be wrong. I needed to be wrong, otherwise what was I going to do? The dread in my stomach was like a stone. I sat back down, in the pitch darkness, pulled my knees to my chest. I hugged my knees and rested my forehead on them.
I wanted to cry but I wasn’t going to do it. I was determined to calm myself down and think. Sometimes, when you don’t know what to do, assessing what you know, helps. Here was to hoping that this was one of those times. I started thinking back to what had happened to me. Somehow, I moved from my son’s house to this place in a blink. How? I didn’t know. I found myself in a forest with a scary mist. As soon as I thought of the mist, I shuddered involuntarily. That was a nasty mist. The fear and panic from before to rose again in me. It took a long while to squashed it. For this to work, I had to think objectively and clearly.
I began again. And again. And Again. Somehow thinking of the mist was driving me to an uncontrollable fear. Once the fear appears, the panic and confusion follows, clouding my mind. That pain that caused me to pass out was the worst I have ever experienced in my life and mind instinctively knew it. It was trying to protect me but right now, I didn’t needed protection. I wanted answers and that required a clear mind.
I mentally pulled myself from the uncomfortable memories and started again. This time I went slowly, focusing on the details. The seemly mundane and useless information would help me skirt around the panic inducing pain. My son’s bathroom to the forest. How? Not important right now. I need to focus on the details. The forest was beautiful. It was very lush like the forest back home during the rain season only more so. Savannah forests are either shades of green or shades of brown depending on the amount of rain. This forest wasn’t just green, it had all sorts of colors busting everywhere. It was surreally beautiful. It hit me then. The forest wasn’t the only strange looking thing.
I remembered something my mind had completely buried in all the fear, pain and panic. When I arrived, I almost missed the mist’s approach because I was admiring myself. I had looked much younger and slimmer. I didn’t know if I was still looking young because it was so dark in here that I couldn’t see my hands in front of my eyes. Just from the way I felt, I was guessing, I was still young. I had run from the mist. No, I sprinted! Even now sitting with my knees folded, I wasn’t in pain. How was that possible? When you are 87 years old, body pains are so normal that you stop thinking about them and just adjust you poster accordingly. Also, considering the fall I took and the pain I experienced, no matter how good your doctor is, there is no way just sleeping could have healed me and relieved the pain.
I was at the precipice of an important discovery, I could feel it deep down in my gut. Actually that was not true. Its not a discovery if you had known subconsciously but refused to accept it because of the implications. Taking a deep breath, I whispered, “I am in a place were magic is real. I came here by magic. I have physically been transformed by magic. I have been magically attacked and magically survived.”
Quiet tears run down my face soaking into my robe. I felt neither sad or happy just relieved. I was crying tears of acceptance. Magic had somehow brought me here and transformed my body. This was no a dream. My life is forever changed, no matter what happens now. I sat with that thought, letting the reality sink in me and calm me down.
When you are 87 and had lived through wars and poverty, you know magic is only in storybooks. No magical wand exists in real world. Life happens on your sweat, blood and tears. There is no fairy godmother to save the day. There are no knights in shinning amour to whisk you away to safety. It just you, your wits and your God’s given human will and mortal limits. And everyone played they hand they are dealt.
I had played my hand to the best of my ability. I build a career as an educator, became the best wife and mom I knew how. My husband and I, raised four God fearing boys whom I was so proud of. At the thought of my sons, fresh tears silently slid down my face. If I couldn’t find the magic to go back, I may never them again. My heart broke at that. It was like losing John all over again but a million times worse because I was losing my whole family. My grandchildren, my daughters-in-law, my friends and extended family. I was here, all alone.
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To think that, before all this, my only worry was how I was going to rebuild my life without John. My boys and their families live abroad. I could have kept in touch with them with all the advances technology. Technically, I was going to do it alone. The difference between now and then was that I wouldn’t be able to contact them. Contrary to the evidence so far my brain is an eternal optimist. So much so that just the hope that something is going to workout is enough to excite me no end. So, of course, it grabbed on to the idea of rebuilding my life.
I was, however, being older and wiser, I refined the plan. I will build a life that allows me to learn all the magic I can so I can go back. Surely there must be a way, even if I don’t know it right now. I started imagining all the cool things I will going to tell my grandchildren when I go back. And what if I go back and I remain young? That would be something. Wouldn’t it? I could feel the hope and exciting rising in me. I love a challenge and making life is one of the best challenges ever!
Ding!
General skill wisdom (Passive) unlocked.
You can reason yourself into calmness and moving forward
Level 1
5 XP awarded
Congratulations
Welcome to Jena’s Lair
What is your mutupo?
The Ding again. I had forgotten about the voice, images and text in my head. This time it didn’t startle me, if anything, it sealed my resolve. I was going to tackle this magical world and find my way home. The Ding had seemed like a commentator on the happenings and my thoughts. It awarded some kind of ranking system. What intrigued me now was that it was asking questions. Interaction with this world, not matter the form, at this stage was a good thing. I needed information. The Ding’s question was simple enough. What is your mutupo? I knew the answer but considering that this was a magical world, who knows what this might actually mean or do. Why does Ding want to know my mutupo? It’s a strange question to ask. If it had said, “What is your name?”. That would have been normal and reasonable.
Where I come from, Mutupo is one of those things that are deeply connected to one’s identity, even though no one knows were the mutupos come from. We are so fiercely proud of our mutupos that our surnames are praise names for those mutupos. We even have praise songs for each mutupo. And being called by your praise name is more honor than using your first name or surname. Most of the mutupos are animals with the occasional body parts like heart and leg mutupos or things like sea or fire. The word itself “mutupo” means sacred. So if someone asks you your mutupo, the literal translation of the question is, “what is scared to you?”. This language sounds very spiritual but to a native this is really not spiritual at all. This is the way our ancestors identified the bloodlines and avoided inbreeding. We have no idea where or when the mutupos began but it was so well done that everyone has a mutupo as part of who you are. That is why the biggest taboo my culture is people with the same mutupo marrying. Even if you can’t trace how you are related to someone, as long as they have the same mutupo as you, you are related and therefore you can’t marry them.
This connection to my mutupo as an identity is probably why my gut was hesitating. Mutupo was a simple, non-magical part of my identity from my world. This was a different world, a magical world. Will giving the Ding my mutupo do something?Probably. Do I give the Ding my mutupo?Of course, yes. What else am I going to do. I was alone in a dark place, Jena’s lair according to the Ding, in a magical world. I wanted to learn magic but I didn’t know how. The only path open to me right now was to answer the Ding and see what happens. Now, how do I answer the Ding?
“Fire,” I said into the darkness. Nothing happened. I waited.
Ding!
Welcome to Jena’s Lair
What is your mutupo?
So, that didn’t work. I looked at the prompt again. It was like the old computer screens when computers where just starting out. Black screen box, with green typewriter like text and a blinking curser under the last statement. I thought to myself, “Fire” and puzzle for a second how I was going to type fire in my head.
Ding!
Your mutupo is Fire.
Please confirm choice
Yes/No
Ah, so I have to think the answer?! I was so proud of myself for figuring it out for myself. I could have jumped if I wan’t in complete darkness. If Tendai, my youngest son was here, he would have been so proud of me too. He is the computer guru in the family and says I do not try to understand anything tech. Take that Tendai! I understand magical tech just fine. The thought of my son made me sad. A deep soul sadness. I was going to miss them but I knew they were okay. What made me sad was that they don’t know what happened to me. For the people left behind this was worse than actual death. Everyone knows we will die, so when death happens, people grieve for the loss and heal with time. When people disappear that is another story. No one knows what happened and the not knowing is a wound which those remaining are too afraid to heal.
I shook my head to clear away the sorrow that was threatening to over take me. I wasn’t going to do this to myself, I determined in my heart. The only thing I can change is here and now. The best thing for me is to learn magic, use it to go back home. I reread the last prompt and thought “Yes”
Ding
Mutupo confirmed: Dragon.
Your dragon aura will multiply your growth.
Fire consumes knowledge fast.
Do you want to claim the lair?
Yes/No?
Dragon what? Just when I think I was getting the hang of this magical Ding, it makes mistakes. I read the prompt again. It listed my mutupo as dragon. Why? I would I understood if it listed a snail as a my mutupo. After all, one of our praise names is snail. The story goes that our ancestors carried fire in a snail shell. I know dragons are said to breathe fire but as a mutupo there can’t be a dragon mutupo. There are no dragons where I come from. Then it hit me. I wasn’t back home. I was in a magical world where fire mutupo is an animal mutupo. Which means dragon is my mutupo and fire is a praise name. Now that brings about all sorts of interesting questions. Fun interesting questions like : Are there real dragons here? Can I ride one? And then there were scary interesting questions like:- Is Jena a dragon? If so, why can I claim the lair of a dragon? Am I going to be in trouble. I was in trouble already so it doesn’t matter. I could tell this was going to be so fascinating, my optimistic brain was already planning ahead.
I squeezed my eyes and thought “Yes!”. If dragons are real and this a dragon’s liar then I want it.
Dragon lair claimed!
Congratulations.
You are a master of a lair.
Everything in this lair belongs to you and responds to you. Good luck!
“A lair does not choose lightly.”
In an instant deep darkness vanished and a warm golden light filled the space and momentarily blinded me. When I my eyes finally adjusted, I was astounded. I don’t know what I was expecting to see but it certainly wasn’t this.
