In his small resident teacher's quarters, Jacob tried to shake off the eerie feeling that lingered long after he'd left the school grounds. He'd always prided himself on being a rational person, not one to believe in superstitions or old wives' tales. But the strange occurrence in his classroom had left him unsettled.
Despite his efforts to focus on his lesson plan, Jacob's mind kept wandering back to the bizarre sensation that had washed over him. It was as if he'd been possessed by some external force, one that had taken control of his body and mind.
Determined to put the experience behind him, Jacob arrived at school the next day, ready to face his class. He'd concocted a story about having a minor health issue, but assured his students that he was fine.
As he began his history lecture, Jacob felt a sense of normalcy wash over him. But it was short-lived. Without warning, he felt the same strange sensation creeping over him, like a slow-moving tide.
This time, Jacob was completely unaware of what was happening. He began to speak in an ancient dialect, one that sounded like a mixture of clicks and chirps. His students exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what to make of their teacher's bizarre behavior.
As Jacob continued to speak in the strange language, he began to write on the blackboard. But the symbols he scribbled were unlike anything his students had ever seen before. They looked like a mixture of hieroglyphics and ancient runes, etched into the board with a strange flourish.
The students were terrified. They rushed out of the classroom, calling for the dean. Jacob, still in a trance-like state, continued to write on the board, the symbols flowing from his chalk like blood from a wound. At the same time, he was speaking in the same ancient and forgotten dialect.
It took several minutes for the dean to arrive, accompanied by Jacob's older brother, Nicholas. Nick worked at a nearby library, and the dean had called him in a panic, unsure of how to deal with Jacob's strange behavior.
Nicholas approached his brother calmly, speaking softly in their native language. He had no idea what was happening but he just felt the urge to speak in their native language, with both reverence and an underlying fear. Jacob, still in a daze, slowly began to come to. He looked around, confused, taking in the worried faces of his students and colleagues.
As the reality of what had happened began to sink in, Jacob felt a wave of fear wash over him. He knew that he needed to get out of there, to get away from the prying eyes and whispered conversations. "I need to go," Jacob said, his voice shaking. "I need to take some time off."
Nicholas nodded, his expression sympathetic. "Let's get you home, brother," he said. "We'll figure this out together." Although he appeared calm, nick had an unsettling fear slowly gripping his heart. Whatever was happening to his younger brother was definitely bigger and beyond their intellectual scope.
As they left the school grounds, Jacob couldn't shake the feeling that his life was about to change in ways he couldn't even imagine. The strange occurrences that had begun to plague him were only the beginning, and he had a feeling that he was in for a wild ride.
The elders from their clan heard about what had happened to Jacob when he returned to his father's farm, and they all visited him. As the family gathered, one elder pointed out that Jacob had been chosen by their ancestors and boy, did they upset the family of intellects.
Jacob's older brothers were not having it. They blatantly told the elders to return to their homes because they'd not entertain such primitive nonsense in such a developed era. Jokoniah was the loudest and most angry.
As the family gathered around Jacob, who was lying on a mat, looking frail and weak, the elders from their clan arrived, their faces filled with concern and wisdom. It was pretty obvious how much the ordeal Jacob faced had drained his fighting spirit.
One of the elders, a tall, slender man with a kind face, spoke up, his voice filled with authority. "Our ancestors have chosen Jacob for a great purpose," he said, his eyes scanning the room. "He has been selected to fulfill an important role in our community, one that requires great courage and strength."
But before the elder could continue, Jokoniah, Jacob's older brother, stood up, barely containing his anger. He was a tall, imposing figure, about 1.9 meters tall, with a strong jawline and piercing eyes. He was dressed in a crisp, white shirt and black trousers, his hair combed and parted sideways at the temple. He had a pointed nose and was light in complexion.
"This is ridiculous," Jokoniah spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "We're not going to entertain this primitive nonsense in this day and age. We're educated, civilized people, not some backward, superstitious tribe." The other family members looked on, some of them nodding in agreement with Jokoniah, while others looked uncertain.
"We don't need your ancestors' blessings or curses," Jokoniah continued, his voice rising. "We're modern people, with modern problems and modern solutions. We don't need to resort to superstition and myth to explain what's happening to Jacob." The elders listened patiently, their faces calm and serene. They had expected this reaction, and they were not surprised.
"We understand your skepticism," one of the elders said, his voice gentle. "But we assure you, Jacob's condition is not something that can be explained by modern science or medicine. It is a spiritual matter, one that requires a spiritual solution."
But Jokoniah was not convinced. He scoffed at the elder's words, his face twisted in disdain. "We don't need your spiritual solutions," he said, his voice oozing sheer contempt. "We'll find a modern solution to Jacob's problem, one that doesn't involve superstition and myth."
The elders nodded, their faces still calm and serene. They knew that Jokoniah and his family would eventually come to realize the truth, but for now, they would have to wait.
"We will leave now," one of the elders said, his voice gentle. "But we will return, when the time is ripe. And when we do, you will see that our words are true."
With that, the elders turned and left, their faces still calm and serene. Jokoniah watched them go, his face twisted in anger and contempt. But deep down, he knew that he was wrong, and that the elders' words would eventually come true. Yet, his educated self could not accept their primitive truth.