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By Orion Shade

On the Gradual Unmaking of a Kingdom

King Aldric sat upon the high seat of Blackmere with his hands folded over the pommel of his sword. The throne room was cold, though three braziers burned along the walls. The tapestries—woven with scenes of conquest and subjugation—hung heavy and still.

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By Aria Quill

When Subtext Isn’t Yours: When AI Starts Shipping Your Characters

There is a particular kind of silence that falls over a writing session when you reread a scene and think, Wait a minute… are they flirting? You didn’t plan for it. You didn’t outline it. Romance was not on the docket.

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The Kind of Winter That Lingers post image
By Orion Shade

The Kind of Winter That Lingers

The winter had settled in like a decision no one had voted on. Cold, steady, and stubborn. No snow to soften it, no sparkle on the sidewalks or hush in the air—just bare trees rattling in the wind and a sky that stayed the color of old dishwater.

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