Jour De Ma Vie

Alain approached the field. Among him stood the Pillars of Symmetry. Well spaced from one another, moving through them was not a challenge, but the sheer size and number of them was intimidating. Standing in varying heights, all made out of what seemed to be the darkest of granite they seemed to reach the heavens. But each one was hardly wider than himself in size, it seemed almost impossible they could reach such a stature.

It’s uncertain who, or what for that matter, created the Pillars, but it’s even more of a mystery what they were used for. The only written account of their existence by the Hullabaloo simply described the Pillars as towers that only ended by the two prongs that fork from the stem. 

Why would they even be here? Alain thought. It had taken him three days alone to travel from the edge of his homeland to here. And there was no sign of life around it. But the Pillars are there. No tribe simply could have just posted such giants up. At least not without a reason. If the Hullabaloo were to have come across them when they were already built and the creators well gone. How old were they? 

Alain had moved closer to one to inspect it up close. Cold to the touch, surprising given the blaring heat of the stars nearby. But he also noticed the sheen and smoothness. It seemed like not a flaw was apparent in any of them. Truly symmetrical, not just in their apparent design, but down to the finest details. 

Alain sat for hours trying to get the slightest idea of what they could possibly have been built for. But every idea was only shot down by its absurdity. Frustration soon kicked in, to which Alain took out by taking a hit at a Pillar with his metallic baton. 

He jumped back as he heard it resonate through the Pillar. The sound was clear, and he could feel the mild vibrations through the ground. He hit it again, making the same echo. To his best attempt he threw rocks near the prongs up top until he hit one. And the waves were stronger still, and the sound was even louder.

It dawned on Alain of his discovery. They were tuning forks! he exclaimed. Each one could provide a different sound, and be used to communicate from afar. But if they were used for telecommunications, were there others?

And just as he thought such a possibility he heard a deep, distant tone emit from the South.

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Good? Interesting? Weak? Poor narrative? What kind of name is Alain?