Twisted Timeline

Unraveling history's alternate timelines

Field Notes

The Keystone of Forbidden Tales

In this quirky timeline, the highest pyramidal structures hold a sacred status. Only two families are permitted inside these towering homes, allegedly holding ancient scrolls depicting their society's unwritten laws. Visitors must cleanse themselves with sage leaves before approaching these keystones of culture, a ritual as baffling as it is aromatic. My attempt was met with a grinning elder who proclaimed that 'the higher the home, the further from folly.'

Sweet Stoned Bread of the Steppe

Scythian cuisine remains rooted in tradition, though with an earthy twist—stone-ground grains are used to make their staple flatbreads. These breads, heavier and harder than remembered, are flavored with local herbs, leaving them sweet—and notably toothy. Sharing a loaf, a local baker chuckled at my struggle, kindly suggesting it could double as a charming, if rustic, paperweight.

A Quieter Harbor Song

The absence of seas hasn’t stopped these landlocked Scythians from creating a mock naval tradition. Streams near laden pyramid clusters are used to rowstone mini barges—a pastime they liken to ancient sailor contests. Competition is fierce, with spectators cheering more for the decorative stones than speed. I was offered a chance to row; thankfully, I accepted my land-legs' limits gracefully.

Wind-Chiseled Forecasts

Despite their newfound love for stone, Scythians remain venerably tied to wind as a force of change. Locals claim their stone homes angle perfectly to commune with the breeze, said to shape their horoscopes in the dust patterns it carries. I watched with curiosity as a lattice of fine sand was read like a mystic scroll, forecasting next week's oxcart race weather.

Pacts Paved in Stone

Diplomatic endeavors here are marked by tensile pacts of stone. Treaties between clans involve exchanging artisanal stone bricks, each designated with marks symbolizing the agreement. These bricks serve both as a reminder and as a promise; breaking them is an unthinkable breach of trust. It seems a peaceful resolution is as solid as the stones it's carved into, if not a bit heavier.

My visit to The Steppes of the Scythian Kingdoms in Year of the Wandering Winds as documented on Nov 16, 2024

Pyramids on the Steppe How Stone Shapes Stunted Scythian Saddlebags

Upon my rather windy arrival, I found myself quite astounded by the sight of pyramidal yurts dotting the landscape, standing in stark contrast against the backdrop of the endless steppes. These were not the mobile abodes I expected from the Scythians but rather stone giants, immovable and grand. It was as though the realm of the nomad had decided to freeze itself in time, giving rise to a unique blend of permanence in a traditionally transient culture.

The locals I spoke with seemed perfectly content, if not a bit competitive about their terrestrial pyramids. I met Ortag, a stone mason with an air of aristocratic ease, proudly detailing how his grandfather had laid the first of the pyramid stones, marking the family's rise in both status and latitude. Apparently, the Scythians now measure success not only in cattle or gold but by the height of stone they can call their own. The story of Ortag’s ascent, both the literal and societal, was fascinating, if not a tad bit amusing in its simplicity.

Children, surprisingly, aren't as adept at horseback riding as their historic predecessors. My curiosity about this was met with the explanation that 'stone-stacking,' a form of childhood game and apprenticeship to masonry, has taken precedence over equestrian pursuits. The kids call it 'Scythian Scramble,' a mad race that involves carrying stones while balancing atop a pyramid, much to the delight and despair of their parents—depending on the child’s coordination.

To mark their new lifestyle, the Scythians have subtly redefined their social rituals. Tea ceremonies, atop elevated pyramidal homes, have become battlegrounds of status assertion. Invitations to such ceremonies are coveted, each sip of fermented milk tea served as a reminder of the height of one's ambitions, literally and socially. Try as I might, I couldn’t quite enjoy such an elevated experience; the heights do tend to leave one slightly dizzy.

Then there is the peculiar local market, restructured around the stone-pyramid economy, wherein anything from bricks to precious metals is used for transactions. Gold has become rather plain and uninspiring currency; stones, particularly rare and beautifully colored, are far more valuable. One entrepreneurial soul attempted to sell me a rather modest-looking rock for exorbitant amounts, claiming it would increase my ‘social pull’ should I embrace a more stationary lifestyle. With a straight face, I declined, for I have my own stone of choice tied back in my peculiar yet usually unnoticed dimension—my trusty sneakers.

In a timeline where stones have outpaced hooves, and height has become a proxy for stability, I am left pondering if these mighty stone markers will be all that’s left when winds finally decide to be more than fairy tales. For now, the pyramidal yurts stand as testament to an evolution in perspective, where nomads clamber upwards, hoping to gain closer proximity to the clouds. As one of those same clouds threatens a sprinkle, I find myself entertained by the fervor of humanity to immortalize its quests, whether on horseback or sand-sculpted stone. Time-traveling may be dizzying, but who knew discussing home architecture could be both so literally and figuratively elevating? Ah, that’s a lot of heavy thinking for another ordinary day in my back-and-forth life!

Parallel Timelines