The drums had been beating for hours.
No one hurried them.
No one tried to control the rhythm.
Beneath an ancient ceiba tree, a woman stood perfectly still.
Her breathing slowed.
Her eyes closed.
Around her, no one whispered in fear.
They simply waited.
Stacy watched in silence.
Her notebook remained closed.
STACY:
“I’ve seen descriptions like this before.”
“Different continents.”
“Different religions.”
“Different centuries.”
She looked toward the gathering.
STACY:
“Some call it ecstasy.”
“Some call it revelation.”
“Some call it a spirit journey.”
“Some say a Loa rides the faithful.”
“Others speak of mediums.”
“The experiences differ…”
“…yet people often describe losing the ordinary sense of themselves.”
The jungle fell strangely quiet.
Only the drums remained.
Caelwyn watched the leaves moving gently above them.
CAELWYN:
“Perhaps…”
“…the question is not who enters.”
A long silence.
He turned toward Stacy.
CAELWYN:
“But who steps aside.”
Far beyond the trees—
the sea answered with another slow wave.
As if it had heard the question before.
🜍 WHO HOLDS THE REINS?
Every culture gives the experience a different name.
Few ask the same question.
What remains of us…
when the ordinary self grows quiet?
If you remember what this felt like—
you already know what you’re missing.
Step into a world where history, folklore, philosophy and mystery meet.
👉 https://startplaying.games/gm/dunchan
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