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His visions were always vivid, a halfway point between a lucid dream and a torrential storm of images and sensations.
At first, it intimidated him. It was way too easy to get swept up into it, to allow the current of events to carry him along like a piece of driftwood.
The piece of advice printed on a ticket from a mechanical fortuneteller haunted him.
Just letting the events pass by wasn't an option anymore. He had to take action.
His parents looked nervous as they sat him down at the table.
"Michael," his father said after clearing his throat. "How have you been?"
"Really? How have I been?" A sudden surge of emotions he didn't know he was bottling up overtook him. "You knew all this time, you knew I had powers and didn't say a word to me!"
"Please, let us explain." His mother reached out and covered his fist with her hand. "Your grandmother was an Orunmila seer, just like you are. We brought her divination tools with us just in case you shared her blessing but..."
"It all burnt down back then, right?" Michael sighed. "I remember you told me about it."
"We watched for signs as you were growing up, but you never showed any. This is very recent, isn't it?" His mom began to rub calming circles on top of his hand with her thumb. "Did something happen?"
"Uh, a bunch of stuff happened after Jentry returned." He frowned, thinking back on all the supernatural events he got dragged into in those last few weeks. "Is it possible that her powers have something to do with mine?"
"We don't know dear, but you have our full support." She smiled softly, her hand not leaving his own.
"Do you have anything left? From grandma, I mean." He finally exhaled, tension slowly leaving his body.
"Just this book of prayers." His father finally spoke up before sliding a tattered and slightly charred notebook his way.
Cautiously, he reached for it, and the second his fingertips made contact with the leather cover a vision overtook him.
He stood in a dark room.
The neverending blackness seemed to wrap around him like a cowl and he attempted to shrug it off, blink it away, anything to push it back.
When he opened his mouth to scream, an unfamiliar string of words in a language he didn't understand began to flow in his own voice. An ornate wooden bowl appeared in front of him, shattering the darkness with a soft purple glow. The wooden figures etched on its sides opened their eyes and images began to flicker on the surface of the water .
A vision within a vision.
He snapped back to reality, sweat dripping down his neck, heartbeat thundering in his chest like a war drum.
"I need a divination bowl." He said as if any of it made any sense at all.
His parents only exchanged glances before nodding.
He had to get to the bottom of this.