***KEEP IN MIND THIS WAS ORIGINALLY A SCHOOL PROJECT***
In the elder rainforests of colonial Nigeria occurred the birth of a spectacular family name. Dating farther back than any man can count was the family of noble achievement and success. This family was none other than the Medmithleinez family. The Medmithleinez family currently runs domestic activity in all of the Igbo tribe under the family head. Here I shall tell you the story of the Medmithleinez family, and how they rose to be the most influential family in all of the Igbo tribe.
The legend begins with Tristan Medina of 15 years, a brave adventurer in Nigeria. Tristan was always a strong-hearted being with an abundance of care and humility. Akin to all other people, Tristan lived under the Igbo tribe and adopted all ways of preceding culture and inheritance. Living an average life in the rainforests of an Igbo village, Tristan often times would slip out of lessons unnoticed in order to explore the region. This was the first of many diverse traits Tristan had when compared to the other Igbo students; Tristan questioned society and answered with his own responses.
One day, Tristan explored farther and longer than usual, venturing deep into the woods where he quickly grew tired from exhaust and dehydration. Unaware of his walking patterns, Tristan tripped over a large stone and fell down a steep hill coveting the end of his trail. When he had finally reached the bottom of the hill, he looked ahead to discover a small river. With much haste and little thinking, Tristan quickly crawled over to the river base and scooped two handfuls of water. The water was unbelievably fresh and easily slid down his throat as he smiled in contentment. Tristan gathered himself together and stood to his feet as he prepared to leave the area, when suddenly he felt a large tremble on his standing ground and was knocked back down to his knees. Suddenly he heard a booming voice shout “Thank thee for drinking of my spring!” Not knowing who called out, Tristan did not reply but waited then for the voice to introduce itself. A few seconds of silence before the voice sounded again. “I am Virgeluk, god of this unnamed spring. You have done great favor in drinking from my spring. Millennia it has been since a pure human touched my water to their lips. For reviving me this experience I thank thee. I must ask, who are you traveler?” Tristan cringed at the thought of a deity contacting him, but immediately shouted back “I am Tristan Medina, 15, of the Igbo Villages.” Suddenly there was more silence, and then Virgeluk responded once more. “It is a pleasure to have met you Medina, as gratitude for your help, I have blessed thee that you shall marry with great honour when the time come, and you shall lead the Igbo people with your own family, strong and kind as you were to me today.” Before Tristan had the chance to respond, another trembling occurred and suddenly the water was calm. Tristan laughed a bit, stood up, and began his way back home.
That night as Tristan lay in his bed within his obi, he recollected thoughts of encountering Virgeluk and pondered if Virgeluk’s “blessing” was in fact real. Days went by, and Tristan experienced nothing different from before his encounter with the god. Soon those days turned to months, and those months to years, not long before Tristan had completely forgotten about his encounter with Virgeluk.
The day came of Tristan’s 21st birthday, and as celebration, he was granted permission from the village elder to depart from the village permanently. After a small departing feast, Tristan gathered his belongings and set off for a piece of private land where he could settle his own land. After a few hours of traveling and searching for a reasonable lot of land, Tristan heard a cry for help in the distance. Notable to his constant urge to help others in trouble, Tristan quickly charged through the dark forests, following the cries until he found the source. It was a girl of about his age and height, and she looked awfully confused and saddened. Tristan approached her with humility. “What’s wrong?” He asked quickly. The girl’s eyes met his, and it was a staredown. “My tribe was attacked and murdered by creatures. I was the only one lucky enough to escape.” The girl finally replied before bursting into tears. Tristan stepped forward and offered the girl a hug, to which she kindly accepted. “It’s going to be alright.” Tristan assured her. “Who are you?” The girl asked, wondering who her new comforter was. “I am Tristan Medina, 21, of the Igbo Villages.” Suddenly the girl looked up and smiled. “I’m Mikayla Smith, 21, and I am also of the Igbo Villages.” The two new friends continued to march through the forest, searching for a safe place to rest awhile.
Fast forward three years. Two months after Tristan and Mikayla’s wedding. Both had ended up finding a region of settlers, where they met many friends and lived among them. With no central leader of the village, Mikayla would often times hear gossip about promoting Tristan to leadership because of his noble traits. One day, Tristan returned to the village three days later than expected from his hunting, and the villagers had all grouped into a circle around a fire praying for his safe return. As Tristan approached the group, they broke into applause and Mikayla made haste to supply a welcoming hug. Standing side by side next to Tristan however, was two children of approximately the same age. When Mikayla and the villagers asked who they were, Tristan replied: “This is Anthony Martinez and Carley Leitch. Their village was enveloped in flames, and I had to save them. I was only able to get these two out though, and the rest of the village perished.” It was then decided by Tristan’s order that the two children would be adopted by Mikayla and him. Due to such a noble act, the village met in secret one day, and discussed their plans of promotion for Tristan. The next morning, they woke him with their demands, to which he humbly accepted.
30 years later. Tristan gathered his family and returned to the site of his original village where he had grown up at, yet did not recognize any of the people. Suddenly he remembered and quickly ran through the forests and down the familiar hill until he reached a river he hadn’t seen in a long while. He quickly bent down, scooped water, and offered it to his family. Each of them drank, and suddenly the ground trembled once more before a booming voice sounded. “Welcome back Tristan Medina. You had forgotten of my blessing hadn’t you? Look at yourself now. You are married 32 years with a wonderful family, and you lead your village with courage. Should you have forgotten all, it is I, Virgeluk, god of the river. You and your family shall prosper forever and ever to time’s discretion. No longer are you Medina, Smith, Leitch, or Martinez, but here today I say unto you that you are now the Medmithleinez family of incredible honour. May your family name receive unlimited renown forever that it be emulated by students under a teacher’s instruction in the long-time future.”
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