Transmigrated Teri is a WIP that is part of a “post 200 words a day during July” challenge issued by
. Episodes posted daily will be of various lengths and sometimes will stop in the middle of the scene. You have been warned!The set up:
Teri Travers, a nearly-50 bitter “office lady” who has not led a happy life gets in a massive car accident after being sent home on the first day of COVID lockdown in 2020. She (and her dog) wake up in a strange new world that is also strangely familiar…that’s right, she’s been transmigrated into the world of her favorite 1990s fantasy novel series, the massively popular, critically disdained, and incredibly tropetastic Allisar Fireborn Chronicles (AFC) by the infamous Chadwick Jarvaldson, aka “Fuckin’ Chad” to all his very annoyed fans who are still waiting for the final book to be published.
Previously: Just as the idea of what she would need to do started to form in her head, the door swung open and Doctor Dourwin entered, trailing three other pretentious, bearded men in burgundy and pink robes.
Oh! A game? Theo lifted his head.
What?
We are gong to play tricksies! Like when Mother pretends to throw the ball but doesn’t!
Don’t you hate that? Teri looked over at him
I do! I HATE it! Argh! He barked in annoyance, and everyone took a step back from the bed. But it makes her laugh. That! Makes me happy!
Yeah, sounds like Mom. Teri nodded.
“Ah. Milady. Lady Greyrage.” The doctor bowed shallowly and then popped back up, giving Theo a subtle side-eye. “I have brought my colleagues.” He held out an arm and Teri got the impression that he was getting ready to list off names, ranks, and credentials. She had been to one too many university conferences in life to have to deal with that bullshit in death…or coma, whatever, didn’t matter.
“No.” She said loudly and held up her hand in a “stop now” motion. His mouth clacked shut.
Lady Elisandar was no long able to hold back her excitement and plucked at the doctor’s sleeve. “Milady remembers!”
He gave the elderly woman a tight smile and gestured to one of his minions to lead her back to the overly-upholstered chair.
“Is that so, Milady?”
Teri reached down to find her most annoying white-lady-speaking-to-the-manager attitude, which wasn’t very far down given the circumstances.
“Yes, I do. I remember who I am. I remember where I come from. I remember experiences of my youth, and I remember Lady Elisandar.”
There was a pleased murmuring from her audience.
“But I do not know where I am, who you are, or what year of our emperor’s reign it is.” Which, after all, was true enough.