Is there really a mystical magician called Obsidian? I was curious and searched the Internet for a map of the continent of Pretoria. On splinterlands.com I found what I was looking for.
After careful preparation, I set out, knowing that it would be difficult to find Obsidian, or to find out if she actually existed. I had only a sketch that someone had drawn from memory.
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It was a long journey through Tierra del Fuego and wasteland until I finally reached the great forest. Fortunately, at the edge of the forest, I came across a grazing unicorn. "Unicorn Mustang?" I approached it cautiously. The unicorn neighed, nodded its head, and led me straight to Obsidian. It probably sensed that I had no ill intentions. Unbelievable.
I had expected to meet a cranky, moody mage, but Obsidian surprised me with her appearance. She was young, obviously very confident, and friendly. When I asked her if she was "the Earth Splinter mage" I was looking for, she laughed heartily. She explained that any technology used by an advanced society, a regressive civilization as humans obviously are, must seem like magic.
In reality, she said, it is only the ability of telekinesis, which is innate to some in your community. Their job, they say, is merely to train their charges to use this ability in an effective manner.
"But how does it work?" I asked incredulously. "It's actually quite simple," explained Obsidian, "all you have to do is bring the vibrations of your own brainwaves into resonance with the quantum fluctuations of any object. Then you feel entanglement occur. Getting the object to levitate is easy," she said. "All I have to do is fix it with my eyes and it follows my gaze." After a moment's hesitation, Obsidian continued, "It takes more practice and, more importantly, mind power to accelerate an object in a certain direction. Since it can reach relativistic speeds in the process, it becomes a dangerous weapon that no ordinary armor can counter."
But enough shop talk, Obsidian said. She invited me to eat something delicious. She had just prepared a delicious mushroom soup. As we did so, we chatted inconsequentially. "Ah, I have something else." She pulled out a photograph. "This is me. A few years younger. With camouflage and war paint, ready for battle. Who you like, you can keep it."
Unfortunately, I can't remember anything that happened after the meal. When I woke up, the sun was just rising. Astonished, I realized that I was lying in my own bed. Obsidian must have teleported me home, I have no other explanation, because on my nightstand was this photo:
Image credits:
#1 own work inspired by Obsidian from splinterlands.com, made with midjourney.
#2 - #4 screenshots from splinterlands.com
#5 own work, also made with midjourney.
Story: own imagination.
Translatat with Deepl Translator