under 300 words, I write like Dan Brown. |
Omen association is gathered into one of it's meetings. The golden brown glory chief started the meeting by going into a list of troublesome list of new bad names for ranks of people they had found out. They are as follows, he stated, starting to shiver from disgust: -Agony of Cosmetic faiths, Visions of the Splintered, Executors of Wild Idealists... The chief paused. All of the association's members knew the code. A name was an omen. There were those amongst them who had heard and seen the prophecies. A name shall come, that will change the inhumanity among people and Ilras. The wise chief thought then in his old mind, that there was a time for worship. There was a time to feel hopeless. There was a time to pretend god. This time though there was no illusion of how bad names had got around the world of province universe. "My dearest members I ask you to fall with me and chant for the hope of names everywhere. In name of the globe sphere, and god Lobus, goddess Arententia." The hooded figures mumbled back, together: "Nomen est omen.". Allied in the name of everything that molds the destiny behind a name, they chanted unknown languages to aid their holy mission. One day, a truth will break the power that only names hide behind them. A dance started. Ancient clairvoyance delirium was almost at end. The mortals would once again yield science and not the nonsense that was holding everything together. Destiny for the medians, it was unknown to them based on the accumulating embarrassment of names they spawned into life. |