In the pulsating heart of Eschenfrau, where the ashen echoes of a virtual war lingered, two mighty avatars clashed beneath the neon glow of the "Embers of a Wish'' world championship arena. Firelez, the embodiment of Latin American hope, stood resolute with his armsword ablaze, an amalgamation of medieval valor and modern fury. On the opposing side, the enigmatic Nigen-Orb, shrouded in dark mechanical armor, controlled the Ironclad Crux, a colossal Guardian Force that cast its intimidating shadow across the battlefield.
The crowd erupted in a symphony of cheers and gasps, echoing through the virtual realm. Players from every corner of the globe watched with bated breath, their screens glowing with the radiant embers of shared anticipation. The stakes were colossal—it was the first time a Latin American warrior had reached the pinnacle of the gaming world, challenging the unbeaten champion, Pulverizer, and his formidable Ironclad Crux.
Firelez and Nigen-Orb danced on the precipice of victory and defeat, their avatars pulsating with the raw energy of the game. The arena itself seemed to tremble beneath the weight of their clashes. Each swing of Firelez's armsword left trails of embers, a visual testament to the dreams he carried into this historic confrontation. Nigen-Orb, a mechanical specter, moved with calculated precision, launching explosive salvos from his grenade launcher while the Ironclad Crux loomed as a symbol of unyielding power.
As the battle unfolded, the spectators—avid gamers, casual viewers, and those who had never witnessed such a spectacle—felt the heat of the "Embers of a Wish" championship. The avatars transcended mere pixels on the screen; they became legendary beings, embodiments of the players' aspirations, fears, and triumphs.
In living rooms, cybercafes, and bedrooms across the world, players leaned forward, their eyes fixed on the unfolding drama. The avatars, illuminated by the embers of their wishes, were more than just characters in a game; they were vessels of courage, determination, and the collective spirit of a global gaming community.
Back in a humble cubicle, Fiona, a determined gamer from an overlooked corner of the world, watched with awe and pride as Firelez defied expectations. The cheers of the crowd echoed in her ears, and for a fleeting moment, she felt a spark within—an ember of a wish taking shape. The battle wasn't just in the virtual arena; it resonated with the struggles of individuals who dared to dream, even in the face of adversity.
And so, the clash continued, and the embers of wishes burned brighter, casting a radiant glow across the global gaming stage.
But as flashy as it started, it ended, the digital battlefield faded away, leaving Firelez's avatar defeated and humbled. The victor, Nigen-Orb, strolled past the fallen warrior, reveling in his triumph. Firelez, now on his knees, bore the weight of his shattered dreams. The announcer's proclamation of Nigen-Orb's victory echoed in the arena, sealing the fate of the Latin American contender.
Firelez's guardian force, a woman of grace and strength, succumbed to the relentless assault of Ironclad Crux. The virtual arena witnessed the familiar scene—the impenetrable energy shield, the layered barriers, and the systematic pulverization of opponents. Nigen-Orb's strategy, flawless in its execution, had secured his victory for three consecutive years.
As Firelez knelt in defeat, he voiced a defiant prophecy. "Someone, someday, from our forgotten corner of the world will come and crush your defenses. I'll assure you of that." Nigen-Orb, draped in arrogance, dismissed the words with an egocentric retort. "It won't be you, and there's no way third-world countries will be able to reach this stage ever again."
The harsh rule of the game descended—the losers banned for a year from the competitions they aspired to dominate. European players celebrated their undefeated champion, while the disillusioned third-world players powered down their screens, accustomed to disappointment. Among them, Fiona, a silent observer in the cyber cafe, reluctantly turned off her screen, expressing gratitude to the owner for allowing her to witness the finals.
Stepping out into the real world, Fiona reentered Bucaramanga, a city of stark contrasts. Known for its modernity, parks, and gardens, the city bore the weight of its history and the vibrancy of its future. Fiona's reality, however, unfolded in the impoverished neighborhoods on the outskirts—an overlooked corner of a city teeming with contradictions. The defeat in the virtual arena mirrored the struggles of her own life, where dreams seemed elusive against the backdrop of economic disparity and societal challenges.
Fiona Maia, a woman of enduring strength, stands tall at 1.65m, her presence commanding both the challenges of her reality and the echoes of a rich ancestry. Weighing 50kg, every step she takes is a testament to the resilience etched into her very bones.
Her features tell a tale spun over generations—a harmonious blend of Spanish and pre-Columbian heritage. The sun, a loyal companion in her daily toil, has gifted her tan skin with a radiant glow, mirroring the warmth of her Muisca roots.
In her daily armor of ragged jean dresses and old jeans paired with a t-shirt, Fiona becomes a living paradox—a bridge between worlds. This attire, more than just fabric, signifies her unwavering resilience in the face of adversity. It is a choice to embrace both the modern world's challenges and the ancient traditions that pulse within her.
A masterpiece of ink adorns her right arm—a Muisca Kogi, a symbol of yin and yang. Positioned below her shoulder, it is not merely a tattoo; it is a visual poem. It narrates the story of her heritage, a narrative of Guecha warriors whispered by her grandmother in bedtime tales. This ink is the embodiment of her legacy, a reminder of the unbreakable ties to her roots.
As the sun bows down to the horizon, Fiona crosses the street, ready to board the bus. Nightfall signals not rest but a continuation of her unwavering commitment. The money earned at the market isn't just currency; it's a manifestation of her love, her determination to provide for her family. Camila, her almost 15-year-old daughter, is a beacon of hope, a reason to toil against life's hardships.
The lines on Fiona's face tell a story of weariness, each etch a mark of her struggle. Yet, these lines are not symbols of surrender; they are badges of determination. Her eyes, though tired, gleam with a fierce resolve—a commitment to carve out a better future. For Camila, for herself.
In the quiet of the night, after fulfilling her duties, Fiona dreams not just for herself but for a world where Camila can study comfortably. The worn-out lines of the day transform into creases of dreams, etched deeply into her spirit. Playing on a humble PC, before going back home, becomes a sanctuary, a brief escape where she can momentarily forget herself and revel in the joy of virtual adventures.
On the bus, Fiona surrenders to the enchanting allure of her dreams—the realm of Eschenfrau. Yet, she's painfully aware that the Dream Reality Device, the conduit to that world, is a distant dream for her city. A gift to humanity, it holds the potential to reshape destinies, to make the world a sanctuary for dreams.
In her mind's eye, Fiona envisions a world where education is a universal right, where potentials are nurtured, and where dreams are not confined by circumstance. The DRD stands as a beacon, a symbol of hope and limitless possibilities. It's a force that could forge a better future for all, a future where abilities cultivated in the virtual world seamlessly translate to reality.
However, for Fiona, this utopian vision remains out of reach. The only gateway she has is a humble display and a CPU connected to the vast expanse of the internet. Through the bus window, the dazzling lights of the city twinkle in stark contrast to the darkness of her impoverished neighborhood. Here, dreams are scarce commodities, and university—an elusive mirage exploited by politicians.
Alone, she descends from the bus, her eyes tracing the path it took. The city's glow fades as she steps into her reality—a place forever cloaked in shadows. At home, a silent encounter awaits. Her mother receives the meager earnings with no welcome, no warmth. Fiona's head lowers and proceeds to her daughter's room. As she watches Camila sleep, a pang of sorrow grips her heart. The longing for more, the ache to provide, fills her with a silent agony.
Resting her head on her arm, reminiscent of a poignant melody, Fiona feels the weight of aging before her time. Her gaze shifts beyond the window, revealing a landscape adorned with tombstones—a stark reminder of futures unfulfilled, lives not truly lived. With closed eyes, a solitary tear escapes as she drifts into sleep, caught in the limbo between dreams and the harsh reality beyond the window.
As the new day unfurls, Fiona finds herself once again in the somber dance with her dreams, a waltz that seems to elude her. The morning ritual begins, preparing a scanty breakfast for her extended family—parents, three brothers, and her daughter. A meager share of a hot drink made with panela and a tiny bread, barely enough to quell the morning hunger. Once again, she's excluded from the meager offerings, beginning her day with a few sips of the lukewarm concoction.
Stepping outside, she navigates a world where her presence is met with indifference. Her brothers pass her by without a greeting, pushing her aside like an inconspicuous pebble in their path. In the realms of virtual gaming worlds, where her meager savings occasionally grant her access, Fiona transforms into a warrior—defying otherworldly beings, becoming a master or a student, and crafting vibrant cities teeming with life. Yet, in the harsh reality she's tethered to, she remains a nobody—a zero at the left of another zero. Her aspirations for a brighter future, efforts to rise above, dissolve into a sea of insignificance.
Despite this relentless reality that has clung to her since birth, a haven awaits. Each morning, Fiona seeks refuge at her grandmother's—a sanctuary for the elderly. This old but resilient woman, confined to her bed due to persistent pain, radiates warmth that counters the coldness of Fiona's home. Greeted by her grandmother's dazzling smile, rivaling the city lights at night, Fiona finds solace and courage to face the unyielding reality.
Their conversations become a poignant exchange, where her grandmother weaves tales of mighty Guecha warriors from Muisca tradition—gallant, strong, and formidable. In return, Fiona narrates her digital adventures—battles with extraordinary beings, exploration of distant worlds, and characters from video games that echo the magnificence of the Guecha warriors.
After the soulful exchange with her grandmother, Fiona assumes the duty of picking up the prescribed medications. Tenderly kissing her grandma's forehead, she steps into the world again, facing the reality of her meager means. No coins for the bus fare mean an hour-long journey on foot, tracing the path alongside the bustling highway connecting her neighborhood to the heart of the city.
Under the relentless gaze of the sun, she becomes an inconspicuous figure on the road, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of vehicles and people from varied walks of life. A continuous stream of faces, each lost in their individual stories, speeding past her, oblivious to her silent existence. Friendships remain elusive, her ability to trust eroded by past betrayals. Glancing around, she's not being excluded—rather, she's enveloped in the cloak of invisibility that befalls many in her neighborhood, unseen by the city dwellers.
Upon reaching the designated drugstore, marked by her grandmother's insurance, she's handed a numbered ticket—a mere statistic in the government's ledger. Taking her place amongst the anonymous crowd, she observes the ebb and flow of people, each entangled in their web of stress and anxiety. She ponders their modern-day battles, warriors navigating the complexities of existence. In this crowd, Fiona feels like an imposter, striving to make ends meet with whatever job she can secure.
When her number is finally called, she retrieves her grandmother's medications. The journey continues, this time to the local market, a few blocks away. The sun casts its warm glow, illuminating even the nameless flowers that spring from the chasms between buildings. In these moments, the city seems like a paradise compared to her neighborhood—a stark contrast where dreams wither in obscurity. With each step, she contemplates the untapped potential within her, a future yet to unfold. The city streets, bathed in sunlight, whisper promises of a destiny waiting to be embraced—a stark contrast to the abyss of despair that shadows her birthplace.
In the labyrinth of the local market, Fiona humbly approaches the stand owners, asking for opportunities to help stock their stores. Each endeavor yields a meager two thousand Colombian pesos—barely a dollar. Undeterred by the paltry earnings, she graciously commits to the labor, knowing it's sufficient to feed her daughter for another day. Silently, she lugs heavy bags filled with vegetables, mindful of her place among the men who effortlessly manage four or five bags to her one. No laughter or derision accompanies her efforts, but eyes rarely turn her way.
Post-labor, she emerges with a modest sum of ten thousand Colombian pesos. The routine unfolds further as she frequents the avenue near the market, offering her services to clean stores. They pay her five thousand pesos per store, and after completing three, she pockets fifteen thousand more. The success, however, is not replicable daily, limited by the store owners' willingness to hire her services only twice or thrice a week. In her quest to make ends meet, she navigates the lower neighborhoods of the city.
Come lunchtime, hunger prompts her towards a place known as Gane, where she indulges in a substantial empanada filled with chicken and rice, encased in fried cassava dough. The women working there recognize Fiona, welcoming her to the second floor where the cafeteria resides. The first floor, an unconventional juxtaposition, is dedicated to selling women's underwear. Gane's empanadas are famed in the city, renowned for their generous size capable of satiating any appetite. Accompanied by a humble orange juice, Fiona finds solace in a corner of the store, observing the bustle of downtown life. Whenever her earnings surpass twenty thousand Colombian pesos, she treats herself to lunch here—an occasional respite from enduring days withstanding hunger.
In a bathroom break, she employs a practiced strategy—hiding her hard-earned money in her underwear. It's a precaution learned from the harsh realities of her life, a tactic to shield herself against potential robbery on her way home or during the day. In this dance with destiny, Fiona's thoughts mirror the lives unfolding around her—the struggles of those she observes, and the unwavering determination to craft a future she yearns to bestow upon her daughter.
In the afternoon, Fiona turns to the car washers, hoping to secure some pocket money for her efforts. Today, only one establishment grants her the opportunity to wash a single car—a reflection of the day's sluggish business. Unfazed, she dedicates herself to the task, meticulously brushing out the seats and dusting the interiors with care. The lessons imparted by video games resonate in her approach—whatever she commits to, she does with unwavering dedication, understanding that half-hearted efforts diminish the purpose of the job.
Her proficiency in various skills is indebted to the realm of video games. While the education provided to her peers remains mediocre, her grasp of English, even from her humble background, is commendable. Video games transformed her understanding of mathematics, elevating her from basic operations to grappling with complex factors, derivatives, integrals, and the fundamentals of financial management. These digital landscapes not only bestowed knowledge but instilled courage in her to confront the hardships of daily life. Great stories and inspiring protagonists became her guiding lights, painting her dark world with vibrant hues.
Before the advent of video games, Fiona perceived the world in shades of gray, her reality steeped in bitterness. Conventional stories failed to resonate with her, their words unable to find a home in her heart. Amidst a city where people reveled in their dreams, she felt perpetually confined to the abyss of her destiny. However, the radiant lights of a cyber cafe one day offered a glimpse into a different narrative. The owner presented an invitation—she need not be a mere spectator but a participant, living the stories within those games.
These virtual realms, filled with characters and challenges, taught her the difficulty of persistence and the ease of surrender. The screen became a canvas where she saw herself as the master of her destiny, seeking answers, discovering camaraderie, and belonging. Much like the Guecha warriors from her grandmother's tales, the characters on the screen became her indirect mentors. Through victories and defeats, she learned the satisfaction of winning, the bitterness of loss, the willingness to risk everything for the impossible, and the necessity to sacrifice for her daughter.
Video games became her sanctuary, a realm where she could cry tears of joy and taste a bit of madness beneath a façade of smiles. They taught her to grow without forgetting, to wait without rushing, to forgive, and to value the little she possessed. In these games, she discovered responsibility and began to dream, inspired by characters reminiscent of the revered Guecha warriors. Fiona is unable to part with video games because, in their embrace, she continues to learn and find solace.