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Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → The Babylon Façade
I finished this story about a month ago, but have been forgetting to post it here. As I promised to a friend back then, expect 4 chapters plus a prologue and epilogue. As always, constructive criticism and comments are very welcome and don't hesitate to ask if you need me to explain the plot or chronological order of things. The story speaks for itself, so without further ado let us be off! Take a moment to disconnect from your bustling everyday thoughts and tasks and dive deep with me into this world of words and vivid imagination!
Seldom in the annals of literature do we see a tale which pays rhadamanthine tribute to foretold events of great significance. With great uncertainty and a nebulochaotic spirit I take up my pen to inform an unenlightened population of the eschatological events which will come to pass many decades from now. Before you call in to question my credibility in this matter let me assure you of the profound mastery of the arts of soothsaying and time manipulation which a select few masters in certain parts of the world still possess. In certain extremely remote regions of Kashmir, the Urals, and Transylvania there still exist some descendants of an ancient occult of savants whose abilities in the afore mentioned are absolutely breathtaking. Their origins are unknown to me, although I believe them to be descended from the original inhabitants of Tyre, while in addition I have found sources that indicate that their lineage is strictly Hittite. They are usually quite short in stature, standing between only four and five feet in height. Despite their height they command an assertive presence by way of their eximious speech, highly calm and mature demeanor, communal solidarity, and exceptional self confidence. They religiously instruct their children in these ways from a very young age and frown upon horseplay and rambunctious leisure.
I discovered these fascinating people some years ago when I was engaged in an expedition in which the purpose was to document and collect rare morels in the southern Urals. The my local guides told inaniloquent tales of a "crazy people" which lived inside trees and are deadly fungi like it was bread. Hardly believing their stories of how dangerous these people were, I in fact became eager to locate them after hearing my guides speak of their knowledge of and affinity for fungi. Let me assure you that the task of locating these elusive nomads was no merry adventure; many weeks of effort, near disaster, discomfort, and disorientation was what we endured in the quest to discover their whereabouts. My guides abandoned me after two weeks as they believed me mad and that those who I was resolved to find posed a real threat to their physical health as well as to their souls. After three weeks I found them, luckily, as I was running dreadfully short on supplies and was becoming ever increasingly lost in the extremely remote taiga. My encounter with them was undoubtedly the single most fascinating, bizarre, and life changing experience of my entire life. The first two of three days that I spent with them were spent discussing and conversing about the local morels. The third day was the day that forever changed my life. As I was preparing for the journey back to civilization, their leader, a distinguished savant within their community, offered to perform a session with me in which I would be shown the future. To be polite rather than because I believed him, I agreed.
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