Folly- Episode 1: Adam

Warning: contains themes of violence, substance abuse, and mental health

The people of Avaritiae do not know beyond what they have been provided access to. Most of their lives, they have lived in these lands, which are abundant in produce but have rotted away their souls. Their souls are barren and can yield nothing that etches the fervor of the human heart. The men here have the freedom of speech but are stripped of their freedom of thought. Life is a mechanical procession of thoughts devoid of exploration. Minds are like caged birds, capable of flight but denied the urge to soar beyond the confines of predetermined boundaries.

The High Priests orchestrated such an impressive feat by generational methodological indoctrination of fathers and the women of the populace. Fathers pass on to their children only the codes and mores that were instilled in them by their mothers during their own youth. The instructions and rules of the land rarely deviated from the usual advances of the people, and the people's advances rarely deviated from the instructions and rules of the land.

The premise of this achievement was dictated by the “Drosophila melanogaster in a bottle” experiment. In an experiment, Drosophila melanogaster, commonly known as the fruit fly, were placed in a bottle with a narrow neck. Even when the neck of the bottle was open, subsequent generations of flies didn't attempt to leave. This phenomenon suggested that the flies had become conditioned to the confined space and didn't perceive the open neck as an escape route. This experiment was pivotal in understanding animal behavior, particularly in the context of learned helplessness and confinement behavior. However, much to the surprise of the residents of the High Towers, learned helplessness and confinement behavior proved to be more complex outside a bottle and in the world of men. The land under the rule of the High Priests bred no criminals but was home to juvenile delinquents. The juvenile delinquents were considered an anomaly in the system and were studied extensively and closely.

In this idyllic land of Avaritiae, nestled in lush forests and fertile plains, dwell the people blessed with abundance beyond measure. Rich veins of precious metals and gemstones lie beneath the earth, ensuring their wealth knows no bounds. Every corner of Avaritiae teems with life, from the grandest mansions to the humblest cottages, each offering shelter to its inhabitants. Women and children frolic in the twilit meadows, their laughter echoing through the tranquil valleys.

The thriving metropolis of Avaritiae stands as a beacon of economic output, where scientific technology has elevated the quality of life for its inhabitants to unprecedented heights. Terra Avaritiae boasts infrastructure and monumental establishments that pierce up into the horizon. An intricate network of transportation, The Lethe, connects the city from within, above, and to the lands outside. Advanced communication systems facilitate seamless connectivity, and power plants embedded deep underground electrify the land.

The Lethe supported the most peculiar and successful trade of the Avaritiaeans. Child mailing, the form of trade, involved the sending of children through postal services as a means of relocation to their new homes in neighboring Kingdoms. The belief that the Avaritiaeans were Godsent people, and their children a blessing from the heavens, led neighboring kingdoms to eagerly host, purchase, and adopt them as their own citizens. In this paradigm, Avaritiaean children were not merely seen as individuals but as prized commodities, valued for their perceived divine origins and inherent qualities. This reverence for the Avaritiaean lineage resulted in a lucrative trade where children were packaged and shipped like goods, exchanged between kingdoms willing to pay a premium for the privilege of raising them as their own.

Terra Avaritiae boasted formidable and unrivaled preparedness and prowess in matters of defense. Its most effective and infamous weapon in its arsenal was the Database. In the shadows of governance lies the notorious database of the Unified Surveillance Authority, a labyrinthine repository harboring the deepest secrets of individuals within and beyond its kingdom's borders. This clandestine archive, shrouded in secrecy, serves as the omniscient eye of authority, casting its gaze upon every aspect of human existence. With a network of surveillance apparatus spanning continents, the Authority's reach extends far beyond the borders of its kingdom, capturing the minutiae of daily life with relentless precision. Within this Orwellian construct, freedom from interference and freedom are notions sacrificed at the altar of security and control. From the mundane to the intimate, no aspect of life remains beyond the Authority's purview, its insatiable hunger for information driving the relentless expansion of its database. The city stands as a beacon of innovation but not at the opportunity of human ingenuity but at the expense of the seclusion of the world.

The veneer of omniscience could realize into a sinister underbelly of manipulation and exploitation. The data harvested by the Authority could be wielded as a weapon of coercion, used to silence dissent and quash opposition. Hence, Kingdoms feared to find themselves ensnared in a web of surveillance, and have their every move scrutinized and their every secret laid bare for public spectation. Terra Avaritiae was left alone.

A network of well-trained soldiers and specialized units ensures that Avaritiae remains impervious to external aggression. Alchemy holds a prominent place in Avaritiae's society, where alchemists are revered for their mastery of the arcane arts and celebrated in all kingdoms for their quintessential Bordeaux - an extremely potent red liquor.

No ailment goes untreated here. Innovative treatments and therapies offer healing to those in need. Avaritiae was at the forefront of medical innovation. The Dome Verdant Gardens, where the facility is hosted, is bathed in natural northern winds and adorned with living greenery. Advanced diagnostic suites, equipped with the latest in imaging technology, offer unparalleled insights into the human body, allowing physicians to detect and diagnose conditions with unprecedented accuracy. The world appreciated Avaritiae as Medics and Medico, but feared them for the Authority.

Yet, an empty gaping feeling rested in the hearts of the Avaritiaeans and they could hardly sleep. On average, an adult person could only sleep for four hours every fourth day. The body would finally succumb to slumber after the fourth day but could not stay rested for more than four hours. The disease shrouded the population and The Dome failed to provide answers. Sleep deprivation isn't a condition that causes immediate, life-threatening problems, but would cost Avaritiae its reputation as Medics and Medico. The residents of the High Towers proceeded to impede acknowledgment of the phenomenon and had deviously dominioned a strict policy mandating that adults must not sleep for more than four hours every four days, a decree that had already met the conditions of the exhausted populace. They boasted this as a sign of the unparalleled work ethic of their people, praising them as exemplars of dedication and commitment to the nation's prosperity.

The exhausted Avaritiaeans adapted to survive on just four hours of sleep every fourth night. Despite their fatigue, they are a resilient and resourceful society, utilizing their waking hours for productivity. However, the average lifespan of the exhausted people depleted to forty years for an adult male, and thirty-five years for a female who endured childbirth. In response to the strange plague, the residents of the High Towers turned to the ingenuity of their Alchemists. Tasked with crafting a solution to incite restful sleep, the Alchemists concocted potions and elixirs that initially calmed the minds of the people. However, the effects proved ephemeral and eventually ineffective on the human body. Determined to find a sustainable solution, the Alchemists embarked on a bold endeavor: they set out to blanket the city skies with a vast network of botanically engineered enormous Banyan trees. These majestic trees, with their sprawling canopies and extensive aerial roots, were meticulously cultivated to emit a perpetual twilight. As the gentle light of the twilight bathed the city in a serene glow, the people found solace and tranquility, and could enjoy another two hours of sleep under the influence of the potent Red Liquor of Avaritiae. The extensive network of trees was a spectacle to behold and deemed by the people as the Elder tree sent from the heavens at the request of the Priests. The society of Avaritiae hums with activity during the dim hours, as they pursue their endeavors under the soft glow of the perpetual twilight. People still succumbed to their death around the age of forty but now were calmer or more precisely tranquilized. The average Avaritiaeans wore dark circles around their eyes that resembled those of raccoons. Their temperament was often rather capricious, and they isolated themselves. They are solitary beings, and the only social group they would form consisted of a mother and her young. The men preferred to stay at work for days after days until they had to come home for sleep and were extremely intolerant of frivolous activities. “Raccoon people” are what they were infamously dubbed as mockingly by the poets of the past. The poets who once lived among the Avaritiaeans but were sent to exile, soon after the high priests took control of the Gates and cabinet of the city, an event predating 900 years from the present times. There was no resistance to the exile of the poets as poets had only words to defend themselves with but the people of the land were by then already systematically and subtly stripped off their ability to read. The poets could have spoken to the people but a strange contagion soon after the induction of the new government, ravaged the adult population and deprived them of their auditory capacity. The children could talk to the poets but the children could hardly comprehend poetry. Hence, the poets left the land defeated and retreated into the desert of the scorching sun. They left with tears in their eyes and as a parting gift left the children with a song to sing.

“What is fairer than the pretty lily, fairer than worldly wealth, to rest in heaven on the wing of a song, To have a pure heart and have rested for long.”

We felt the rain fall on our yellow locks, the last to have the dew wet our skin. None left for the children of Terra Avaritiae, they have been stripped from within.”

The contagion lingered in the city for generations and no adults were spared. The High Priests explained that the Poets had cast a curse on their children to seek vengeance. The poets were the last transgressors in the land and their crime was that they slept too much. On 19 Moon Year 456, the Aldoor tribe of poets pleaded guilty to one charge of indulging in and entertaining lethargy, disruption of state values, seventy-eight charges of causing irreparable spiritual injury intentionally in circumstances of preaching torpid tendencies to the populace and two hundred thirty-three charges of grievous harm to state economic output.

On the 32nd Moon Year 456, the Aldoor tribe were sentenced to 9850 lifetimes of exile in the desert of the scorching sun, in regard to all charges. The land of Avaritiae sheltered its last poets that year. The High priests celebrated the exile and named it “The cleansing,” and the poets mourned and dubbed it as “The Culling.” The sentencing was devised to doom the poets of Aldoor. Their sedentary lifestyle could not have permitted them to endure half a day in the desert of the scorching sun. Yet, the desert winds continue to carry echoes of songs of terror, love, and demise into the metropolis of Avaritiae. The High Priests remained alarmed. The songs couldn't enchant a deaf population yet the Priests had then mandated their final regulation to never venture out beyond the vast realm of the known twilight of the Elder tree, and no one ever felt the need to except for a once humble postman turned delinquent.

This individual stands as a testament to life's cruel twists. Mocked for his diminutive stature and deemed unsightly by society's standards, he bore the brunt of relentless torment from his peers. Recent release from a stint in rehab, where he was studied for months as an anomaly, offered him no solace. His erratic behavior was misconstrued as alcohol-induced. Despite returning to his postal duties, sleep eludes him, stretching his weary mind to its breaking point. He had not slept in 11 days. Elixirs and alchemy prove futile against his insomnia, while the twilight offers no sanctuary. Only the potent embrace of red wine provides fleeting relief, yet it transforms him into a slave to its numbing effects. His inconsistent behavior resulted from the profound emptiness gnawing at his soul, expedited from rejection of his true love. The gaping chasm of insecurity, unyielding to the remedies of alchemy or modern medicine, plagues his every waking moment, rendering his existence a perpetual struggle. His repeated visits to rehabilitation care had him demoted to the bottom strata of the socio-economic hierarchy from citizen to delinquent.

He was now ADMT23AR2955. Ethnicity Asian, Status Delinquent, Sex Male, Tribe 23, Blood Group A, Birth Region 2, Birth Year 955. The Avaritiaeans denounced names for all non-High Tower residents. Names, bestowed upon individuals by others, lack the precision required for efficient categorization within a complex society. A unique identifier code remains constant, facilitating record-keeping, and transcends linguistic barriers. Names hold sentimental value, but they pale in comparison to the practical utility of unique identifier codes.

ADMT23 felt invisible and he yearned to be recognized. His true love had refused him, sickened at the idea of bearing the children of a man who was only three feet tall. A woman willing to enjoy motherhood and ready to embrace death in her mid 30s only wanted the finest and genetically blessed specimen of a man to father her children. “I won't bear the children of a midget,” she said. Each recollection a bittersweet reminder of what once could have been, can now never be. Tears flow freely, silent tributaries tracing the contours of a shattered spirit, seeking solace in the catharsis of release. He knew his aching heart had no remedy, but he could pause the aching and go to sleep. Stranded in an internal conflict with self ADMT23 had given birth to consciousness once again. The ego was born again.

Secrets failed to circulate the metropolis as the population was deaf. Having stationed at the Lethe post office, ADMT23 was aware of the survivors of the desert of the scorching sun. Avaritiaeans were not eloquent people and hence letters came in as descriptive pictures.

Parcels were sent out unsupervised as Terra Avaritiae perceived no threats. Only the Child mailing went supervised under the care of a Postmaster as required for all “livestock.”

ADMT23 stood amidst the throngs of travelers and parcels, his gaze fixated on his colleague, the supervising postmaster overseeing the bustling activity. As the next shipment of children awaited dispatch, ADMT23 slipped into the line, seamlessly replacing an unsuspecting child with himself. Disguised under the innocence of youth, ADMT watched as the child for the parcel frolicked about before being whisked away destined for an unknown fate. With each passing moment, his heart raced with the anticipation of escape. This time he chose to drink his red liquor to calm his nerves. As the Postmaster scrutinized the departing shipments, ADMT23’s pulse quickened, feeling genuine fear that only came at the expense of sacrificing self-security. He could feel the stirrings of free will along with an overwhelming surge of panic. In the grip of fear, he soiled himself. He felt alive. The ghastly smell was something all Child Mail Supervisors were used to but never accepting of. Postmaster BCMT44 retraced his steps and buckled the parcels firmly onto the cabin.

ADMT23 did not have an elaborate plan, but he knew his destination. Past the Dune of Pity, he would make his escape from the Cabin. He must encourage his colleague to drink lots, and for that, he would encourage chaos in the cabin. The children must consistently engage in episodes of rampant crying. Children cry regardless, and depriving them of their favorite toys or a pinch on the cheeks were the easiest ways to have them burst into maniacal episodes. The children had tired themselves out and the Bordeaux, the Postmaster. ADMT23 seized his moment. As the carriage lay silent, he crept towards the open door, heart pounding with anticipation. With a swift and decisive motion, he lunged out from the Train but was quickly yanked back inside by the arm. A child had suddenly broken into a cry waking up the Postmaster. Parcels scattered, voices shouted, and chaos ensued as ADMT23 was easily overpowered by the full-grown man. Postmaster BCMT44 reported back to headquarters, “We have apprehended a criminal trying to escape the metropolis, Identified as ADMT23.”

ADMT23 had grown hateful of his unique identifier code and increasingly resentful of his fate. With a burst of adrenaline, ADMT23 lunged at his captor, with his soiled trousers in his hand. He engulfed BCMT44’s face with the filthy garment and managed to prevail over the much larger man.

Before ADMT23 leaped into the soft sand beds of the Dunes, he cast one final glance back at his nonplussed colleague and screamed, "My name is Adam, and you're contending with a sleep-deprived, heartbroken, intoxicated, deranged, and unclothed "Midget" who's had an unfortunate accident."

He darted through the sands to seek out and exact revenge on the poets, those who slumbered for hours and days but had left him cursed. Adam took a liking to the name he discovered for himself. He was yet to discover how to trace the songs of the poets being a deaf man. He was out to explore the great forbidden unknown, hoping to finally fall asleep.