“Follow me kiddo’s,” my history teacher, Mr. Daniels, bellows, “pick up the pace, let’s go!” He is one of those teachers you can tell were popular in school and never quite left.
We’re on a field trip to the Stonewood Museum of History, a museum that sounds fancier than it is. A large white building with, clearly fake, Greek-style columns that almost look blown up. It has a large statue, about 20 feet tall, in the middle of a small courtyard-like area. It seems to have a weird kind of pattern on the pedestal that the woman, who is holding a giant sword, is standing on.
On a plaque on the front of the pedestal I can see a name transcribed, Armina. I remember mother telling me a story about a warrior and a society that would not accept her. I shake my head reminding myself that now isn’t the time, I pick up the pace but cannot get the statue out of my head.
My class is in the Roman Artifact section, the guide has been on a rant about this helmet for 10 minutes. I cannot stop thinking about that statue, I do not know why but, I am drawn to it. I look over, Blair Robinson is trying to get Leo Banks’s attention, she is failing. No one is looking my way. I see my chance; a door labeled This way for beginning.
The door leads to a long hallway, the walls are a mauve color that has not been used in this century. At the end of the hallway is a wooden door with a handle. I turn it and it opens back in the courtyard, this time on the back side of the statue. I walk towards the statue, there is no one outside of the building right now, weird.
I put my hand of one of indents on the pedestal, is it…glowing? I put my other hand on a matching indent close to it, it glows brighter, a teal glow. Just then, the pedestal opens, I walk towards the opening, not knowing where I am going to end up.
I wake up in a strange meadow, it’s a beautiful, wooded area with the sun shining through a canopy of leaves. I can feel my skin against something…metal? As I lift my hand to my eyes, I see it incased in what looks to be armor. I try to stand up, the weight crashing into me.
That is when I see my backpack on the ground next to me. I hurriedly open it, searching for my phone. When I finally found it, I realize there is no service, and it’s almost dead. I look around me, remembering the safety class all new students had to take as part of the entrance exam to the private school my aunt put me in.
The only thing I find was a giant sword, the blade about two feet long and glimmering in the sun. The hilt is a beautiful gold, with a large crystal in the middle and ribbon-like patterns surrounding it. I run my hands across the blade, it’s smooth like it’s just been made.
Then it hits me, this is just like the sword from that statue. I look down realizing my armor is also like the one from the statue. I try my best to remember the story my mother taught me. “Arianna, you are destined for great things. You are my child, don’t forget that” I remember my mother’s look when she told me that, before everything fell part, before I fell apart.
That would be the last thing my mother would tell me before she left me in our apartment. At only 6 years old I was an orphan. What do you know, mom?
When I finally stand up, I realize there is a path that I can see. I put on my backpack, put my sword in the holster on my hip, and walk towards the path, careful where I place my feet. I start following the path until I can see a village in the distance, picking up my pace.
When I get there, I’m greeted with a sign, “Welcome Travelers!” What I presume to be the town square is bustling, the smell of fresh bread coming from the bakeries, the sound of merchants trying to sell their goods. I head towards a sign, “Inn this way.”
I get to the inn, it’s a wooden cabin-like building, there is a sign atop the roof, Roris Inn. I walk in, there is a small front desk, the kind you find in an old antique shop. There is what looks to be a teenager manning the front desk, they have blonde hair, dressed in a tunic. “How may I help you?” they say, straightening their back, to presumably look more professional.
“May I have a room?” I say before I even realize what I’m saying. I should have checked if I have any money, “We have a room open, that will be 4 dabloons.” I dig through my backpack, hoping that there is anything that could possibly be a dabloon. I open the bag to find several golden coins.
“Here,” I say, trying not to let on my surprise. They hand me a room key and tell me the direction of the room. I open the door to find a bed, a wardrobe, and a small desk. I set my sword down on the bed, sit down in the chair, opening my backpack, searching for anything that could give me clues to what is going on. Then, I find a small, leather-bound notebook. I open it to the first page, the paper tingling my fingers as they glide across the page. There is writing on the page.
I am so sorry for leaving my child. Though you are confused now, it will all make sense in due time. Here is where your adventure begins. Head west, and don’t forget that magic is everywhere.
-Mom