300 years later

While she had no way of keeping actual track of time, the fact that each time she saw the devil come to her looking a little bit older until eventually he was replaced with someone much younger but just as evil, did she begin to realize that she had been here for far longer than she had imagined. There was no window, she slept when she was tired and ate whenever they decided to bring her food. Usually, when the quantity of food was large, she could expect work to come her way. The food only increased in quantity when they wanted something.

The cell she lived in, deep underground, was covered in her blood. Every square inch of this cell was covered in her life essence. Insight the beginning, of course, it wasn’t. The initial resistance she had stayed with her for what this world would call a month.  Then the beatings and torture began. So, when she was tasked with filling up heavy gold and jewel-embedded chalices, she could only weakly hold on to the gold cups that began to glow brightly. What she thought she would never have to experience as a black woman in the 21st century was forever ingrained in her memory. This was a fantasy world and she figured whatever this cup was taking from her, was similar to mana. 

She had no tears to cry, no voice to sing, no energy to dance. She was just there. Of course, that was until the war finally made its way to the temple. What started as a slight tremor, soon turned into a full-blown earthquake. The magic circles and charms that kept her bound in silence, strength, and mentally all at once were released. The silence she had long since grown accustomed to was soon filled with the cries of those on their deathbed and at war high above her. 

The literal and metaphysical shackles placed on her held no power over her as she stood to her full height in the cell. With weak steps due to muscle failure, she clumsily walked between the bars that even she could fit through since she was so thin. They had placed no actual shackles around her wrists and ankles as they would slip right off. So they stuck to magic. But this too disappeared the moment the temple started to shake. She looked around the underground prison slowly before determining which way was the best way to exit. Years alone had somehow earned her the skill to detect presences and of course, avoid them. She could not speak or hear, but something in her captivity opened up this sixth sense for her. Her sight in the dark had also gotten better. 

Each step became more confident and before long she was doing a slow, pitiful, and wretched jog barefoot across the prison corridor. Every couple of steps she would stumble, but pure desperation was the only thing that let her stand back up. She walked up another flight of stairs with wobbly steps and found herself in one more hall. Several entrances and doors greeted her leaving her frustrated.  

‘Go through the center entrance.’

The sudden voice stopped her dead in her tracks. It was the voice of a woman. It was warm yet also overpowering. Though she had never heard it before, it sounded nostalgic and brought a tear to her once dry tear ducts.

‘Please. Quickly, go straight. Then the door at the end of the hall.’

The voice was patient and kind and very welcomed. So, she followed the directions given by this unknown voice. She trusted this voice because the directions it provided were ones that she could sense no living presence.

‘Up those stairs’

‘Right turn in 30 feet.’

Continuously like this, she followed these directions for about 5 minutes before she came face to face with a large white golden door. The knights, who were most likely here to stand guard, were dead on the ground. Their necks were slashed and blood splattered on the beautiful and intricate large door. 

She looked around for the assailants. She heard no one and felt no living presence on this floor. 

‘Please open the door… I.. I am sorry my child.’

She frowned at the ‘my child’ comment. She hadn’t seen her mother in what she would later find out to be three centuries. She had already long forgotten her voice, but she was certain the voice speaking to her did not belong to her mother. Simply because she didn’t have a Jamaican accent. She had no suspicions about what lay behind this door as she could tell there were no living presences behind it.

So, she placed her hand on the door. 

It glowed brilliantly, earning a groan from her.

“Mm.” 

When the blinding lights toned down, she managed to push the double doors open. 

With a gasp, she could only stare wide-eyed in shock at the sight before her. Mountains of gold and jewels rested in this room. She grew up upper-middle-class despite her parent being a single mother. Her mother was her pride. But she doubted even the richest people she knew had ever seen a room like this. 

Instantly, she figured out this room was either the treasury or an offering safe. She recalled the name of the robed individuals, she now knew were priests, called out. This was a temple. There were priests, knights, and magic. Salem knew who this voice belonged to.

“Dawne.” her voice was husky, cracked, and dry. She had not used it once in years. Well, that wasn’t true. She had, but the magic made her mute. So, her throat had bled in her desperate attempts to be heard. 

She walked around the mountains of coins and jewels stupefied.

‘Please take it. Flee and live for yourself. I had not meant for you to struggle. Salem, live well.’

Salem. 

She had not heard anyone call her name in what felt like a thousand years. The one tear that had fallen earlier had turned into a river. Her sobs were ugly and hoarse. 

Salem looked around the room as the tears continued to fall. She had no idea how to use magic, but she knew she could. The countless times she supplied these wretched people with her mana had ingrained in her body the memory and the process of wielding mana. She would never forget the sensation of mana moving through her veins. 

Her memories of her time on earth were vague and almost non-existent due to her poor mental health and surplus painful memories. But for an instant, she recalled common magic from the countless video games played, anime she watched, and manga she read. 

Spatial storage. I would need to use something like that to store all of this… Salem’s eyes glowed with interest before narrowing to concentrate. 

The mana in the air began to ripple as she stood stock still with her hands held straight out. She was imagining a large space. Like the endless space, she had first encountered here. She needed something that vast. 

Her eyebrows twitched at the moment she felt the mana condensing around her hands. She could feel multiple presences above and below her running towards her current location.

'You are almost there.'

It was the moment the familiar voice said that Salem opened her eyes to see a man-sized oval in front of her. The sides were opaque and rippling like a flame. Salem tilted her head to the side in curiosity before pushing that curiosity aside. 

In the mangas, using mana is about imagination and will…

With that thought, a fierce wind swept through the large room and sent all the gold and jewels spinning before different strands all headed into the spatial void. The sound of gold, coins, and jewels clanging about sounded like music to her ears as the room she was currently in became more and more empty. 

It was when the room was empty did she find the only spot of the room that had not moved by her magic. It was a chest and a podium with two large stones. The podium had no words on it but the chest was resonating with her soul. Literally, it seemed to vibrate the air the closer Salem got to it. 

It was a stereotypical treasure chest you would see in pirate movies except for the fact that there was no lock. Salem raised her hand to open it, and as if to respond to her will, a clicking noise could be heard from inside the chest before the top opened wide. She did not miss the way the treasure chest glowed gold for a moment.

Salem choked back her sobs. 

Every single item she had brought with her to this world was inside the chest. Her rings, her watch, her earrings, her backpack, and her sneakers. Salem’s trembling hands reached for the bag and pulled on the zipper. Inside the backpack were the items she recalled being in there. Her change of clothes, her wallet, her phone, her keys. Even her notebook and agenda were still in the backpack. The clothes she had been wearing were no longer in this world since they had rotted long ago. She was now wearing a tattered dress that had long lost its original color. The one thing inside this treasure chest that held the most importance was her phone. She didn’t know why these items were inside this room, but she was thankful it all went untouched. 

Salem sat on the floor and cradled the phone to her chest. She was never one to care much excessively about technology, but this single piece of machinery, she could tell, would provide her long-lost stability. The tears once again ran down her face as she stood up. She immediately began to push the chest into the spatial pocket. Pitifully so though as she had no muscles. This chest would not move with magic. Salem could feel some sort of aura around it. Something warm and protective.

Panting, Salem’s legs and arms trembled at her movement. They had not worked this hard once since her capture. 

How weak… so very very weak… a bitter taste filled her mouth as she judged her body's condition. Before she had ample stamina. As a former athlete and performer, stamina was essential.

The double doors were closed, but she could not only hear the crowd outside but feel their presence. Some of which were denser than others. This was a difference in strength. Something she noticed in her captivity. Some knights who brought her food were as weak as her current physical condition but the popes always had a dense pressure. But none of them gave her the same feeling the voice did. So, Salem turned her attention back to the other item that did not move initially. A podium with a pillow and chains wrapped around two oval-shaped things.

“Eggs? Are they dragon eggs or something?” Salem pondered aloud. 

Her heart was beating as she thought back to her longing for a fantasy-like adventure, Do dragons even exist here? 

'Yes.' 

This was a new voice. Much deeper and colder. It offered no warmth but made her insides giddy. A feeling she hadn’t felt in ages. So much so, it made her already weak legs weaker. 

“Yes to ‘are they dragon eggs?’ or yes to the ‘do dragons exist?’” 

Salem got no response and felt a sudden urge to pout but pushed it aside. 

Deciding one-sidedly that they were indeed dragon eggs, she decided to take them and raise them.

I’ll raise them and come back to destroy this temple. If not the temple, the people at least…

Salem wickedly thought. She felt her dry lips curl up in a smile before she began to cradle the two eggs to her chest. They were not large, but relatively heavy for the weakened woman.

“Can I use magic to float them and create a shield?” 

Again, to her will, she watched as the heavy eggs left her embrace and floated in front of her. She could also faintly see a silver barrier around them. 

“Huh… Am I actually good at this magic shit?”

Her voice was still hoarse but she was genuinely shocked by this display before her. Confident now in her actions, Salem made her way back to the doors.