Can beauty come out of ashes?

I am on chapter 15, not much further than I was before. I can blame the stress from work killing my creativity. Good news, I am setting stronger boundaries at work to allow myself not to be so burnt out that I cant do the things I enjoy.

That part is going... okay I guess. Time will tell.

I did get a new home work station, though. Not for actual work, but to write.

I treated myself to a nice monitor, desk pad and a very nice keyboard. I got a Keychron Gateon(?) Jupiter swtich, so its nice and creamy and delish.

I'm sure there are nicer ones out there, but, without going overboard i liked this one the best.

Its better than typing on my laptop fer sher.

Anyway, (if you celebrate) happy thanksgiving, and I hope everyone has a lovely weekend/holiday.

Oh. I also got engaged. 💍

This land is destroyed. The dust in the air smells like burning wood, leather... woodsy. Like every last living thing had burned up. The ground was covered in gravel that looked like gunpowder. Cliffs and mountains were the only things separating the landscape from the sky above. Was there a sun here? He couldn't tell if it was clouds or smoke. Everything had a bluish tint to it. Kind of like a winter's twilight, but thick with grey smoke.

When his ears stopped ringing he could hear the desperate cries of pain and loss echoing over the land. Mothers cry for children, widows cry for husbands. The cries that hurt him the most were the ones that were orphaned.

The shockwave had faded away, and now it was the fallout.

Pain. Pain. He groaned sharply as he took a step and felt like his leg would buckle beneath his weight. And it did. He came crashing down, the sharp gravel cutting into his knees and palms. He tasted metal, and his trousers felt sloshy and sticky against his skin, at the same time. He looked down at a gaping wound in his thigh. Loki rolled onto his back, and the ringing returned to his ear as the pain followed him, gnawing at his wound like a starving wolf on a meal. Unrelenting.

Loki could not remember the last time he bled. The last time he was so weak.. the Dark elves... When he sealed his fate with Kurse. But not nearly so.

This land is destroyed. The dust in the air smells like burning wood, leather... woodsy. Like every last living thing had burned up. The ground was covered in gravel that looked like gunpowder. Cliffs and mountains were the only things separating the landscape from the sky above. Was there a sun here? He couldn't tell if it was clouds or smoke. Everything had a bluish tint to it. Kind of like a winter's twilight, but thick with grey smoke.

When his ears stopped ringing he could hear the desperate cries of pain and loss echoing over the land. Mothers cry for children, widows cry for husbands. The cries that hurt him the most were the ones that were orphaned.

The shockwave had faded away, and now it was the fallout.

Pain. Pain. He groaned sharply as he took a step and felt like his leg would buckle beneath his weight. And it did. He came crashing down, the sharp gravel cutting into his knees and palms. He tasted metal, and his trousers felt sloshy and sticky against his skin, at the same time. He looked down at a gaping wound in his thigh. Loki rolled onto his back, and the ringing returned to his ear as the pain followed him, gnawing at his wound like a starving wolf on a meal. Unrelenting.

Loki could not remember the last time he bled. The last time he was so weak.. the Dark elves... When he sealed his fate with Kurse. But not nearly so.

Its fantasy, and the main character is late 20's early 30's range. so not quite young adult.

I have returned from France and it was everything I could have hoped for and more.

I have written more of my novel, and getting more into the world building.

I do miss writing here.. but it still looks like not many fandoms i was in are active yet/anymore, so I still lurk.