Between Two Worlds

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...Three Months Later...

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Afiyara sat in the quiet of the university archives, her fingers tracing the worn edges of a centuries-old manuscript. It had been three months since she returned to the city, diving into her work as a research assistant at the prestigious Institute of African Antiquities. Her dedication and brilliance had already begun to make waves, and her latest project, the search for a long-lost artifact from her own culture, could make her a leading authority in her field.

But despite her professional success, a deep unrest churned inside her. The ancient powers she had awakened by the lake still flickered beneath the surface of her daily life. She had not yet figured out how to control them, and the more she ignored them, the more erratic they became. Water in glasses would tremble when she grew emotional, and once, the wind had surged through her office when she was angry, scattering papers and research notes.

The conflict came to a head during a heated exchange with Professor Mûtugi, one of her mentors.

"I understand your passion, Afiyara," he said, his voice sharp but patient. "But your theory lacks the evidence to support such a bold claim. You cannot base your research on instinct and emotion."

Afiyara’s jaw clenched. Her theories were based on more than instinct—there was something she could not explain, something deeply connected to the ancient artifact they were searching for. The room felt stifling, and as her frustration peaked, she noticed the water in a nearby fountain ripple. The gust of wind that followed was sudden, unnatural, and it left her colleagues speechless.

Without another word, she stormed out of the archives, her mind reeling. She knew she needed answers—about her powers, about the ancient presence she felt. She needed clarity, and there was only one place she could find it.

Afiyara found herself by the lake again, the place that had always offered her solace. She sat by the water’s edge, closing her eyes as the cool breeze washed over her. She had come here often over the past month, hoping to understand the forces inside her, but today felt different. Today, she wasn’t just seeking calm—she was searching for answers.

The water responded to her emotions, as it always did, but this time it was more deliberate. As she concentrated, the lake's surface began to ripple under her command. She could feel the connection to the water, a part of her she had not fully understood until now. Yet, before she could grasp control, a shadow stirred beneath the surface.

The water darkened as the immense form of the ancestral dragon emerged from the depths, his massive body coiling just beneath the lake’s surface. His eyes, ancient and wise, fixed on her.

Afiyara’s breath caught as the dragon’s deep, resonant voice filled her mind.

"You walk a path filled with power and danger, Afiyara," the dragon began, his words slow and deliberate. "But no one walks such a path alone. Those who hold power must learn to trust. The journey ahead will demand more than strength—it will demand wisdom, and the support of those who understand your burden."

Afiyara stared into the dragon’s eyes, her mind racing. The weight of his words sank deep. She had been trying to shoulder this burden alone, but she didn’t have to. His wisdom hinted at allies she had yet to meet, and a truth she would need to embrace—that she could not master her power in isolation.

The dragon’s form slowly dissipated into the water, leaving Afiyara alone by the lake once more. But she was not the same. The ancestral dragon’s counsel echoed in her mind. She needed to prepare, not just to face her powers, but to trust others on this journey.

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

Afiyara sat at the far corner of the research office, a thick stack of papers spread out before her, yet none of them seemed to matter. Frustration gnawed at her. For weeks, she had been trying to convince her professor that the artifact she was hunting existed. He dismissed it repeatedly, saying she was chasing myths rather than facts. Yet, she knew—deep within her—that the artifact held more than just historical value. It was tied to her ancestors and her newfound powers.

“What’s wrong, Afiyara?” came a voice from the doorway.

Afiyara glanced up, spotting Leshan, a fellow researcher from a neighboring university. He was always dropping by unannounced, a friendly smile ever-present. He pulled up a chair next to her, eyeing the papers spread before her.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Afiyara sighed, pushing the papers away. “My professor doesn’t believe me. Every time I bring up the artifact, he brushes it off like I’m chasing fairy tales.”

Juma’s brows furrowed, then a soft smile appeared on his lips. “Maybe you’re talking to the wrong person.”

Afiyara raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s a convention coming up,” Leshan continued, leaning forward slightly. “Top archaeologists from around the continent will be there. One in particular, Kemi, is speaking. He has made waves with his work on lost artifacts, ancient African heritage, and the role of ancestors in history. I think you should attend.”

“Kemi?” Afiyara’s interest piqued. She had heard of him. He was one of the youngest but most brilliant minds in African archaeology, famous for proving the existence of artifacts that scholars had long written off as legend.

“Yes. And trust me, Afiyara,” Leshan smiled, “if anyone’s going to believe your story, it’s him.”

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

The convention hall was buzzing with energy when Afiyara walked in, her notebook tucked under her arm. She was not one for large gatherings, but there was something about this that felt important. Perhaps it was fate.

Taking her seat, she glanced at the stage, waiting for the keynote speaker to take his place. When Kemi appeared, the room fell silent. He was taller than she had imagined, his presence commanding, yet his expression was calm and collected. His voice, smooth and confident, filled the hall.

"History is more than just the past,” Kemi began. “It is the bridge between what we know and what we must rediscover.”

Afiyara was instantly captivated. He spoke of ancient African artifacts long lost to time, remnants of forgotten cultures and their connection to the ancestors who still lived on in spirit. As Kemi delved into the topic, Afiyara's heart skipped a beat. He was describing something eerily similar to the artifact she was searching for.

“…And there are some artifacts,” Kemi continued, “that are said to possess a power beyond explanation. Some, like the one I’ve been investigating, are believed to hold the very essence of our ancestral lineage.”

Afiyara leaned forward in her seat, her heart pounding. She had to talk to him.

After the presentation, Afiyara wove through the crowds, her eyes set on Kemi, who was engaged in conversation with a small group of attendees. She hesitated for a moment before stepping forward.

“Excuse me, Professor Kemi?” she began, her voice a little shaky.

Kemi turned toward her, his dark eyes scanning her face before offering a polite smile. “Yes?”

“My name is Afiyara Wa Mûturi,” she introduced herself, extending her hand. “I’m a research assistant at the university. I wanted to say that your talk… it really resonated with me.”

“Thank you, Afiyara,” Kemi replied, shaking her hand. “I an glad to hear that. What field are you in?”

“Archaeology,” Afiyara said. “And I’ve been researching a particular artifact that seems to align with the one you mentioned today.”

Kemi raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? What kind of artifact?”

Afiyara took a deep breath. “It’s tied to my tribe’s ancestral history. My professor doesn’t believe it exists, but I know it’s real. It’s said to be hidden, connected to ancient powers… something like what you described.”

Kemi’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Many artifacts with ancestral ties are dismissed as myths. But I’ve learned that where there is smoke, there is usually fire.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Perhaps your instincts are right.”

Afiyara felt a surge of hope. “I’ve been chasing this for months now. I could really use some guidance. If you have time…”

Kemi smiled, a spark of recognition lighting up his face. “I believe I can help. In fact, I might have already come across something related to what you’re describing. Let’s talk more about it over coffee.”

Afiyara’s heart raced. This was the break she had been waiting for. In Kemi, she had found not only a potential ally but someone who, like her, was deeply connected to the past and driven by a thirst for discovery.

With their conversation just beginning, Afiyara’s journey to uncover the truth had taken a major step forward. What she didn’t know was that this encounter with Kemi would lead her deeper into a world of hidden powers, ancient knowledge, and a path that would shape her destiny as more than just a researcher—but as something far greater.

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