"The
ancient stone of the crumbled ruin seemed to have been assimilated by the forest itself: cyclopean and overgrown with twisting vines and jade lichen, their grey color a stark contrast
to the surrounding leaves of a green deeper than any ocean and darker than the
blackest midnight. The structure itself had long since disintegrated into
rubble, leaving only those stones that once formed the floor and the bases of what
had once been seven identical walls. Tree roots and small bushes had long since
burst through the carved marble floor, bone-white tiles as dented, cracked, and
misshapen as the world in which it had long sat unused. The body and roots of
an oak had grown through a fault in the floor beneath our feet; at least thirty
feet tall at its highest and a good man and a half across, its unintended
presence and obvious age juxtaposed how incomprehensibly old the strange
structure was. Yet the odd
pedestal in the center of the ruin, carved of the same veined and impure marble
as the floor, seemed completely untouched by the eons that have passed since
its creation; the others and I immediately knew that its remarkable
preservation went beyond its density and construction. The man… no, not a man,
for it was no human that stood before the other travelers and I... the thing
that stood in the center of the pedestal seemed to silently confirm our suspicions, looking down upon us and watching our
slow and shaking approach."
I am greatly anticipating the four-day weekend ahead, as it will give me time to properly focus on the story and truly begin weaving the world that I have envisioned but have merely begun to put to paper.
If anyone has some comments or criticism of the passage above, please do comment; this is a learning experience, and I would much appreciate any quick feedback.
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