#witchtree | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thegodthief · 6 months ago

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'Tis But A Game

Dreamt of an immersive MMORPG that all the "cool kids" (read: anyone younger than me) were playing. Players entered the world as "witches" and would play through an individual story line that occasionally called for group attacks on key NPC and locations.

My daughter got me to create an account and play. She was confident that my old ass would be able to not only catch up to her character level, but that I would exceed it quickly. Turns out, the immersive nature of the game meant you weren't limited by keyboard and mouse, only your intuition.

I started in the tutorial island, with a simple black robe and matching witch hat, and a styrofoam broom as my weapon and steed. She wasn't kidding about the immersive nature of the game. Everything felt real and tangible. She walked me through the initial quests and then it was time to level up.

The quest to leave the tutorial island was to mount the broom and fly over the chasm that separated it from the game's mainland. From there, I would have to navigate an obstacle course designed to test my connection to the elements before presenting myself to the Witchtree to be judged.

Along the way, my daughter encountered some friends of hers who were delighted that her mom was in the game. I quickly collected an impromptu coven of new and experienced players that became invested in my advancement. They showed me tricks to the game and cheered each encounter.

Someone spent money to bestow a custom title on me. "Witch Mom" My daughter laughed to see it. Even though I was the newest player, I had picked it up quick, so other new players assumed I was a mentor of some kind and would ask me to show them techniques. The coven encouraged it.

Finally, it was time for our group to enter the main world. I was last to arrive at the launch point, but I was able to observe how the experienced players mounted their brooms and flew across the chasm. I helped other players do the same until it was just me and my daughter remaining.

"Just like this, Mom!" She grabbed her broom and held it out. Without a word, she jumped and it moved forward with her momentum. Her character slipped into a side-saddle position on the broom and she hovered over me.

"Yours is wood though. This is kid-safe foam. It collapses under my grip and isn't going to bear my weight."

"Mom, you forgot! We're in a game. None of this is real. If you perceive it to be inadequate, then it will be. Part of the game is about focusing your will and I know how stubborn you are!"

I did forget. The NPC repeated the same set of instructions over and over. Across the chasm, the coven were cheering and calling for me to catch up to them. I stood on the launch point and felt the winds swirling around me. Game or no, I know this feeling. I knew what to do.

I held the foam broom out the same way my daughter held hers, but, instead of trying to jump on the shaft to bear me across, I willed the broom to shape the winds to bear me instead. Using the broom like a joystick, I flew across the chasm to the waiting coven.

"Hey, that's an advanced move! How did you do that, Witch Mom? I thought this was your first time playing!" "That's the starter broom, it can't move air like that, air moves it!" "Hey, kid, there's something about your mom that you're not telling, huh. What is she offline?"

Daughter looked at me and I just nodded in acceptance. "Mom's a witch offline. Kinda. It's complicated, but occult magic is her thing." The coven of players fell silent.

An advanced player quietly said, "Most offline witches look at us like trash. Like our MMO is mocking them or something. What do you think of the game, Witch Mom?"

"I think it's fun! What you think of yourself determines what you can do. This is encouraging."

"How so, Witch Mom?"

"You can have the most rare tools as a real witch. You could have a hundred spirits at your command. But if you have no sense of self, those tools are worthless. This game forces you to consider yourself first. How is that bad?"

The player that spoke up came to me. Now that they were close to me, the game told me they were an end-game player, having completed all the quests and trials. Their garb was as plain as my starter robes and hat. To anyone else, we were both novice initiates.

"I was going to give you some gear, but you don't need it. Instead, as someone who is not a witch offline, let me give you some advice. What you just said applies to mundane matters as well as occult. It's not the clothes that determines who you are, but who you are within them."

They turned to the waiting coven around us. "Alright, so you know how to fly! But, do you know how to move within the world? The Witchtree is waiting for us! Let us prove ourselves worthy!"

The coven cheered and began running to the next quest marker: The Trial of Elements.

Again, I was the last to enter the trials. But I was one of the first to emerge. The immersive nature of the game meant that I could call on my offline wooishness to navigate the challenges within the game's framework. When I stepped out of the trial, the advanced player stopped me.

"Let everyone else meet the Witchtree first. If this goes how I think it will, I do not want other new players to be disheartened when they can't duplicate your method of success." I agreed and waited to the rear of the area.

I watched other players, fresh from the trial and renewed by game mechanics, approach the massive tree that dominated the hilltop. I realized that the path of the trial had been formed by its roots, and that the Witchtree had been watching us this entire time.

The Witchtree is an individual encounter that others could witness but not interfere with. Each player would approach the Witchtree and be individually challenged by the elements of fire, water, earth, and air in that order. The challenge was tailored to the player's performance in the trials.

Failing an element would not fail the quest. Some players took the easiest route of just doing nothing and failing all elements. Most players gave it their best shot to varying degrees of success and failure. Very few players beat all four elements.

After that was an individual conversation with and judging by the Witchtree. The player would be asked what is their goal in life (within the context of the game). The Witchtree would then bestow upgraded armor and/or broom based on the answer.

Players that did the bare minimum received barely upgraded gear. Players that gave it their all but failed were given gear that supported their weaknesses. Players that gave it their all and triumphed were given gear with unique looks or titles.

"So, tell me Witch Mom, why do I dress plain here?"

I looked at them. "To not draw attention to yourself and make yourself a target of the PVP gloryhounds here. You have already out-leveled the gear needed for these areas. But there's always some fool that wants to prove themselves your better."

"Are you going to continue in the game after the Witchtree?"

"Probably not. I'm already playing this offline. If anything, it's showing me what I need to pay attention to there if I am going to continue on that path. I'm really here to make my daughter happy. It's something we can share."

"It's good to share things with the people you care about." They looked back at the slowly dwindling numbers. "When you meet the Witchtree, give it your all, please. I know this is just a game to you, but like you said, it is revealing things you wouldn't see any other way."

Finally, it was just me and the end-game player remaining before the Witchtree. I knew they could come and go from this zone at will, so I offered to shake their hand as a farewell. They accepted, but wanted to stay to observe my results.

"Why are you here, Witch?" Something about the Witchtree's question made me pause. I realized that the script called for the player to be addressed as "Initiate", but I was addressed as "Witch". This title was reserved for those who completed the first group battle. Too soon for my character.

I answered with the game's prompt. "I am here to discover my power and my place."

The Witchtree responded as scripted. "Your power is what I give to you and your place is where I bid you to."

I replied with the game's prompt again. "My power is what I make it to be and my place is where I am."

"Then, do you challenge me, Witch?" The wrong title again. I began to taste iron in my mouth. Something wasn't right with this game.

I kept to the script. "I do, as I challenge any that would stand against me."

"Then, be broken and humbled." That was NOT the game's script. The Witchtree is supposed to be a supportive character, not a sudden enemy. But before I could call out to the end-game player, the elemental trials began.

If I had relied only on what the game had taught as proper for the character, I would not have survived the first assault of Fire. But, as both my daughter and the end-game player knew, I drew on my offline witchy understanding and intuition.

Each element assaulted me with full intention of unmaking me. I heard the end-game player call out, "Be true to yourself, Witch, and don't hold back!" I realized that I was dreaming. Right. Weaver, it is, then.

I drew on my years of lucid dreaming and path-working to first defend myself against the elements, and then to retaliate and counter in turn. Drawing on my skills, tools, and understandings, I brought my entire self into the game. Fire, Water, and Earth fell quickly.

Air, an element I have not achieved certain milestones with in my offline life, almost broke me. Just because Weaver has a raven aspect doesn't mean that all matters of air come easy to them. The fight against Air was drawn out and bloody, but Weaver triumphed in the end, barely.

My gear was ripped and torn. The tip of the witchhat had been neatly severed and the crown of my bloodied head was exposed. The gloves had been burnt off by fire and my fingers were nearly black from Earth's blight attacks. I struggled to breathe and had to keep reminding myself that I'm dreaming.

The poor foam broom was a cooling puddle of plastic slag behind me. The ground around me in the quest circle was still settling. My ears were ringing. I could not sense anything outside of the quest circle. It suddenly expanded to include the Witchtree.

The Witchtree moved. Great branches lowered themselves like arms and extended towards me. From their extremities hung clothes. A plain black robe. A new black hat. New gloves, pants, and durable shoes. It broke off one of its smaller branches and gave me a new broom. I dressed quickly.

"Well done. Weaver."

I looked up at the Witchtree in surprise. It felt like I had seen that tree before even as I recognized its appearance to be a mashup of at least three distinct species. It laughed and its appearance changed. The end-game player now stood before me.

They came close and pulled a cloth from their robes. "Here. [Static.] You will need this as well, both for the reasons you think and the reasons you have yet to discover." They wrapped a gauzy shawl loosely around my head and neck like an hijab.

"If you decide to continue in this game, know that it will be much harder for you than it will be for others, /Witch Mom/, because you know that this game and /that/ game are the same. You are most yourself when you're not trying to live up to expectations, after all."

"Be yourself, please. Be yourself and break those that would break you. Humble those that would humble you. And that includes yourself as self-deprecation makes you your own worst enemy."

They called their broom to their hand and pointed to a new path leading down the far side of the hill. "If you want to continue playing in this sandbox of a dream, follow that path to catch up to the other players."

They stepped close and pointed to my heart. "If you want to find out just what the hell you even are, follow this path to catch up with your selves."

"Farewell for now, Weaver. Do level up, in this world or the other. I look forward to seeing what you are capable of when you are fully yourself." They hopped on their broom and flew away to catch up with the novice coven. They took my "Witch Mom" title with them and bore it themselves.

Night fell in the game and the empty hilltop felt desolate as darkness crept up from all around. I looked at my in-game character and saw just how many of Weaver's markings were softly glowing upon it. Accepting the lucidity, I logged out of the game, and in doing so, woke up.

#dream #I would add a read-more but it turns out you have to be logged in to see what follows.

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