A writer writes. Always

                “A writer writes. Always.”

                I’ve heard these words hundreds, if not thousands, of times in my life. I’ve always thought of myself as a creative person. I’ve enjoyed photography, tried my hand at drawing, I currently enjoy painting miniatures for D&D, but I’ve always thought myself a writer.

                However, a writer writes. And I have not been. As such I’ve decided to try to correct this problem. Instead of writing that book I’ve been talking about for years, I’ve decided to start at the beginning. By writing. Always.

                So I invite you to join me on my journey of discipline, practice, and procrastination. I aim to write something every week: A short story, a D&D adventure, or maybe just general musings about fatherhood, video games, life, or writing in general.

                I invite you to come along with me, offer prompts, advice, and criticism, and most importantly of all, you will provide me with accountability and deadlines.

                So with no further ado, my first submission:

                I came upon a field of gray. This was not a uniform field however. Nearest to me was a small divot with dark lines in the ground creating an imperfect square. To my left there was little to remark on save a line of text painted on the ground. A single word that made little sense and seemed unrelated to the field before me.

                To my right I could see another, much smaller divot filled with darkness. Between me and this dark divot, a pair of signs, perhaps warnings or instructions.

                And before me, a forest of black monoliths. These squat, but large structures seem to have been created from the same material. Most of them appear to be squares, with roughly equal sides though some are much smaller and one is positively huge. This huge one is easily the same size as five of the other structures combined.

                All of these black buildings are a single step down from the rest of the gray field. And after exploring them I found neither door nor window. I set out to count them and found over one hundred though none displayed any markings.

                I also noticed that each one was not set on the field of gray, but rather, into it. Clear space between each structure indicated that these buildings went deeper into the field. Perhaps they could retract into the field? This would explain the step down in the field of gray.

                Nevertheless, determining the function of these buildings nagged at me. I needed to know. After much sweating, cursing, and one bruised knee, I was able to find my way atop one of these black buildings. I found no entrance here either but I did discover more text. White paint atop the black surface. The one I stood upon was marked in a single word and a tall arrow pointing towards the sun.

                Upon landing on the structure I also found it to be unstable. As I moved I felt the entire building move beneath my feet. Untrusting of this platform I decided to attempt to leap to the next one. I followed the arrow, ran and leapt!

                I cleared the gap without too much trouble but instead of landing upon a stable surface, I found the whole building falling under my weight. I cried out at what must surely be my end when the structure ceased falling and without hesitation it bounced. Suddenly I was being propelled back upwards.

                But just as suddenly the structure stopped. I lay prone, fearful of moving too quickly. I could see that the structure I lay upon was now level again with the rest. Tentatively, I decided to experiment. I slowly rose to my feet and then jumped. Straight up and back down. As I landed the structure moved again.

                Once again we fell briefly. And once again we bounced. Back into position. Perplexed I took a greater stock in the structure. Perhaps these buildings didn’t go into the ground but were instead set up on some sort of spring system. But why? Earthquakes? That didn’t make much sense.

                I decided to make my way deeper into the forest of black structures. As I jumped from building to building, each one fell and bounced back into position under my weight. Each one marked with another symbol or word. In fact, only the largest of the buildings was unmarked.

                Curious.

                Up until now, my experiences had shown that these structures were uniform in height. But in the middle of the field of black monoliths, I found two buildings with short walls atop them.

                On both buildings, these small walls were built near the southern edge; they did not interfere with the large symbol on the structure. Confused by another mystery, but with no idea how to decode it, I decided to travel on.

                I continued to explore. After a dozen or so buildings and a dozen or so jumps, I had begun to develop a strategy to landing that would stop the building from falling. This proved immensely helpful both on my speed of travel and upon my psyche. One exceptionally large gap proved difficult but I cleared it, just barely.

                At the far end of the field I found the field of gray again. From here I could see its edge, a sudden drop off into who-knows what. From here I decided to travel north again. These structures were longer on a side so I had longer to walk before needing to jump again.

                Upon reaching the northern edge I found more puzzlements. Not far away I could see a carving in the gray, this was painted in red. The bright color on this otherwise monochrome landscape was disconcerting. And the shape carved into the land filled me with concern; someone or something must have gone to great lengths to carve that symbol.

                West of this carving I could see hundreds of individual holes in the ground. Uniform in shape and size and laid out in a deliberate pattern. Surely, no animal did this.

                And beyond the holes was the sun but not as I’d experienced it before. It was certainly as bright as the sun, but the light took up the entire sky. And it was not a cheerful blue of a clear day but a painful white.

                I squinted up at the bright sky, willing my eyes to adjust when I noticed something. A dot? Far to the west on the field of white. Excited, I began heading west. These northern most buildings were smaller than the previous ones and I had to be extra careful to keep my balance. But curiosity drove me.

                I reached the far west and peered upwards again, squinting into the bright light. After a few moments my eyes began to adjust and I found a dark shape. As I watched, this shape flashed on and off repeatedly.

                At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks but as they continued to adjust it became clear that there was a dark symbol etched upon the sky. It appeared and disappeared rhythmically, quickly.

                And finally I noticed that to the left of this dark shape, I could see symbols. Dark shapes that matched the white symbols atop the black buildings. I jumped back a few buildings, hoping to get a clearer view.

                With each jump, each time a building fell and bounced back, a symbol appeared magically in the sky. It continued to float there and the dark shape lead them. I began experimenting with each building. Hours spent jumping from structure to structure filling the sky with this strange text. I had a momentary pang of worry when the blinking shape vanished from the eastern sky until I found it again. It had traveled back to the west faster than I could ever have tracked.

                After some time I began to learn what each building would do. Some would place a single symbol. Some wouldn’t but might move the blinking shape. Others removed symbols I had already etched upon the sky. I found two that could control how bright the sky appeared. And more still that I couldn’t determine their purpose.

                When I looked upon the sky and saw it filled with the strange symbols I realized the terrible purpose of these dark buildings. They were unlimited power. With a little time and effort, I was able to fill the sky with dark text. What these symbols combined meant, I couldn’t imagine.

                But one who did understand, who knew these symbols, how to use this field of gray and the dark structures, could fill the sky with anything: Truth, knowledge, understanding but also lies, harmful texts, or dangerous script. This power was humbling and terrifying. My few hours of experimentation had been all too harmless, but it could’ve easily been used to great or terrible purposes.

                I conclude my scientific research with a warning, should others find this place, learn to use these monoliths and the sky writing, I beseech you, do what you can to use this immense power for good, just causes. Enjoy, experiment as I did, but do not take this humbling power for granted.