Hey there,

I have created a community on lemmy.world: mythosofolivier dedicated to Slavic, Ancient Egyptian, Celtic and Mesopotamian mythology; of course, any other pantheons or legends are more than welcome.

One can:

Share academic papers, lecture notes or personal essays Post your own artwork, fiction, or poems Comparative chats (Is Inanna more like Isis or perhaps Freya?) Questions, insights or just marvels at mythic oddities

Not a sect, just a space for myth-geeks.

As for me, fantasy is creation, dream, escape; a canvas for the impossible. Just the creativity. Everything is possible. No limit.

What keeps you tapping keys at 2 am when doubt creeps in, when the coffee’s cold and the page is blank; what spark won’t let you let go?

What pushes us to write isn’t the promise of fame or fortune, it’s plain curiosity; poking at the unknown, asking “what if?” and watching worlds unfurl from a single question. What mystery are you chasing today?

From what I could see, there is no rules about that. I hope it is allowed. But, perhaps, to know each other or just your work. We could share a tiny bit of something that we are working on.

*To understand the extract: Fantasy, Mesopotamia, a King. *

*“What can go wrong?”

“War, you dead.” The General just spit out without any hesitation.

I let his blunt warning hang in the air, then smile calmly.

“War it is, then, if I hesitate,” I say, voice steady. “And dead if I rush unprepared. Neither outcome suits me.”

The Grand Vizier clears his throat. “Your Majesty, if I may, sending our best spy ahead would give us clear intelligence. We could learn a lot more in advance.”

I incline my head. “Agreed. Pair him with the priest. Let the priest cast his protections, and let our spy gather what truths the streets and the mountains whisper.”

The General’s jaw tightens. “A single spy cannot stop an ambush.”

“I do not expect miracles,” I reply. “Just a warning before I ride in. We will muster my guard only at the last moment, striking swift and sure. The locals will think I arrive unprotected; that illusion will be our shield.”

The Vizier and the General exchange glances. The Vizier nods. The General hesitates, then bows. “As you command, Majesty.”

I wave a hand, dismissing the tension. “Very well. Send the messenger and the spy at first light. Priest and two guards with them. We will move within few months. Until then, keep this plan close. No one else must know.”

They both bow, concern still etched in their faces, but obedience follows. I turn to the balcony, letting the cool morning air clear the weight from my thoughts. Babylon’s towers gleam in the sunrise. Ashur waits for me. Elam cowers in shadow. I touch my palm and feel Inanna’s warning stir within.*