#heresiarch

Heresiarch (Ghost)

Please god, someone send help. These web novels are too powerful. I'm five fucking chapters into Twig and I've got the rest of these in the queue. I'm never gonna get done...

that Cutscene is Perfection, from fundament to the all of the throne worlds to the first actually first in game look of the Black Terrace and Xivu arath appearance how she's in these bellowing cape that looks to be also her wings.

Also how the echo of navigation Perfectly sides into oryx's chest

And the bones that decorate her main tower in the black terrace, I think that they might be the Jaws of the leviathan, the one from the books of sorrow and one that got the leviathan Eater it's title, it's body was fed to Eir and Yul, but the bones hasn't been mentioned besides the Rib that Rhulk toke.

Heresiarch | Edifice | 12th April, 2024

New Zealand Black/Death Metal

Artwork by Khaos Diktator Design

When I started Heresiarch several years ago, it was my baby. It was maybe the best idea for a story I had yet, and I quite enjoyed writing it and people liked it. Unfortunately and fortunately, the former two points are no longer true. I think the real point of decline was when I got COVID a bit over a year ago. I experienced severe aftereffects from it, not enough to be what is called "long COVID," but long enough to severely affect both my ability to write in my off-time and my abilities in academics. I also had to transfer colleges during that time, so there was very little time for my hobby horse.

What this resulted in was a downward spiral. I slipped further and further in my schedule, and felt more and more ashamed that I was unable to keep up with the demands of something that I felt so passionate about. Furthermore, on rereading to keep myself from losing the plot, I kept noticing flaws in the story - places where I was overly cute with the dialogue, or left plot threads hanging without much meaning, things that wouldn't be woven back together because plans changed and because I was trying to meet the deadline more consistently than keeping things coherent. And the worst part was and is that I still quite love Heresiarch. It is still my baby. I love the characters, I love the setting, I love that it landed the way I wanted with audiences by and large. But in order to fix those flaws, major re-writes would be required, from the bottom up. Compounding this is a major issue with site infrastructure - I've never been the most technical person, but I felt like I could handle WordPress, until suddenly I was attacked by a level of anxiety and annoyance that was kind of unprecedented when I tried to improve my workflow and make it easier to get a chapter out.

When it's all taken together, I think it's best that I put Heresiarch on an official and indefinite hiatus. I do intend to finish it, in some form or another - I want very much to put Ana and Edam's story to a proper end - but it's not a story for me right now. To all those who were hoping for a swifter conclusion, I hope I have not disappointed you too much. This also isn't the end of writing for me. It probably isn't even the end of web serial writing for me - I've been seriously considering just starting a different story while Heresiarch is on the backburner and I hone my skill further, and I've actually been drafting a novel for traditional publishing, so you can keep an eye out for those. I would also like to thank you all for your support. Your kind words about Heresiarch mean all the world to me. Before I was publishing Heresiarch I was deeply afraid that I was not a competent writer, not able to resonate or reach other people with my art because of how idiosyncratic it could be at times. Seeing otherwise has helped me immensely as a writer.

They afforded more dignity to her in preparation for execution than in trial. The cell was a little larger, and the thin, slit-like windows were more widely spaced so that Edam had light for most of the day. Still, time seemed slippery and difficult to track within the stark white room; a bed to one side with a single plain linen blanket and pillow and a latrine. To the other side was a bench, a stone drain and a tap with running water, alongside a hardened iron bowl. When she was finally confident that she was alone, and not being watched, she disrobed from the harsh sackcloth and filled the bowl with icy water.

- 5.7