Day 25: Create a fictional world and describe it in 500 words or less
It is strange that when I create my fictional landscapes technology does not really feature and we return to a simpler time. The land scape is one of craggy mountains on the horizon that glow with an unearthly purple haze as the sunsets behind them. Meadows and pastures abound filled with cattle grazing on the lush grass and children gather flowers to present at the altar of the Goddess.
The altar itself stands in a wooded glade, dappled light falls over it, carved from pure white crystal it is an embodiment of all the is good in the land, upon in it in crystal chalices are the flowers from the day before gathered by the children for only they are truly pure enough in their hearts to lay the offerings there.
Along a rutted, dirt road a village stands, quaint cottages with thatched roofs dotted around a communal square with doubles as the trading market, the people here have no need for money they trade with their neighbours, each producing different goods and produce for the good of all.
Though they do not live in luxury, none here know poverty, hunger or want they each strive to better the world for all and would die before turning their back on anyone in difficulty. There is no crime as such simply because there is no want, occasionally an abomination is born though the do not know it for many years, they are dealt with as their transgressions against the community demand based on severity but very rarely is anyone banished for that would only send the problem to somewhere else and they would be unprotected against the evil. Where evil cannot be corrected than a sacrifice must be made for the greater good of all.
All over the land people live this way occasionally they travel from one village to another when they have an abundance of any produce or a match must be made by a younger member of the community and all are welcomed no matter where they wonder
Over seeing the matches are the chosen ones, women of great age and wisdom who have seen more than fifty summers and live apart from their families in a special hut together they pray to the Goddess for guidance in ensuring their way of life endures.
The way of life is hard but not harsh time is made to swim in the stream and to walk hand in hand through the meadows life is lived and rejoiced in, by the light of the fire they gather on an evening and the story tellers regale them with stories not of war and strife but of the land they will travel to after this where life is even more perfect for those pure enough to enter.