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Sol.Terra Complete Collection (Full Cover) by C-A-Harland Sol.Terra Complete Collection (Full Cover) :iconc-a-harland:C-A-Harland 3 4
Literature
The Truth Unravelled
    Verus strikes another word from his lexicon. We both shudder.
    I watch in frozen silence as he carves himself away. The last time we were here, he took my hand and forced the stylus into my grip, dragging me with him as he erased one of our own. I told myself I had no part in the action. I was forced -- lacking the physical strength to overpower him. It wasn’t my doing, and so I put it out of my mind.
    All the little Lies we tell.
    Seeing Verus perform the erasure on himself is somehow darker and more visceral than that last time. He is not a loyal servant, performing acts of barbarism on the orders of another. He is a  man, defiling himself in the name of a cause.
    It suddenly occurs to me that we are very alike after all. Perhaps that is why I feel every strike of the stylus as though I was the one being erased.
    It also occurs to me th
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Literature
The Edge of Madness
    We have a new Editor in Chief. There is a formal announcement. A brief statement to all the Editors, Authors, and Subduers in the Library. A minute of silence.
    Natural causes, they said.
    I’m disinclined to believe them, but then, I know that Icarus wasn’t responsible. Psychosis -- perhaps -- dementia, amnesia, paralysis. All were possible effects for someone too heavily under the influence of Re-vision, when they were finally exposed to something that went beyond the CID’s parameters. It was a delicate piece of hardware, and easy to overload. But not death. Even Epeius -- who probably suffered the worst side effects -- did not lose his life.
    I have my suspicions, but, contained as I am, I can verify nothing.
    Ever since my session with the Chief Editor, I have been confined in Area 12. Stale white walls, and a stale white cot are my only company. It w
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Literature
Optimism Pending
    It was meant to be easier than this.
    I don’t know why I think that. It’s an obvious lie, but, there you go. Jean would say that easy and hard were irrelevant, and all that mattered in the end was your determination. Back in the old world, men could move mountains if they wanted it enough. Only someone with that level of bizarre optimism would be crazy enough to break into the Library.
    And there I go, worrying about her again. I can’t help it. Jeanie and I have been watching each others backs for years; ever since Emily was taken in by those creatures. It feels wrong to be out here without her.
    I head out to the rendezvous point, and for some reason, I take Smith with me. Our footsteps bounce off the tunnel walls. Too loud; Jean would told us both to be quiet. I throw sideways glances at the guy as we walk. He’s humming -- something I didn’t know Su
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Literature
The Icarus Plague
    It is a universal truth, that any man who tries to proclaim himself like a god, shall fall. Just as Icarus, who made wings of feathers and wax, so that he might fly to the sun, plummeted. I tried to warn them of this in my letter -- the one which originally led them to me -- but perhaps the metaphor was lost on them.
    My neural implant stings me for such unruly thoughts. I focus on the pain and try to be glad.
    Icarus, I say in my mind. It stings. I say it again, revelling in the freedom I know it brings me. Icarus. Icarus. Icarus flew too close to the sun. I laugh as my knees weaken from the jolts. The physical cost is high, but it is worth it to know that my mind remains my own.
     Editors prowl these halls, so I force myself back to my feet before I can be seen, and continue. Verus will be waiting for me.
    As an Author, I have no right to address the Second Edi
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Literature
Strings of Defiance
    I have written my name a hundred times. A thousand.
    Four letters, then a line to cross them out. Each mark of the pen is another strike, carving out everything I am, everything I was. I have seen my own name on paper so many times now that the word has ceased to have any meaning. This is the first stage of Re-vision. We edit ourselves out of existence.
    Jean Jean Jean Jean Jean Jean Jea
    I stop writing, and my neural implant sends a shock through the base of my skull. Not enough to create any lasting damage, just to make my muscles clench and my body recoil. Enough to create the negative feedback pattern in my subconscious that will ensure I want to continue pleasing my new masters… and fear disobeying them. These are my puppet strings. When they pull them, I shall dance.
    An overseeing Editor patrols near my station. He has be
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Literature
An Open Letter
An Open Letter.
To you who would practice "creative writing," know that you have NO RIGHT. I have finally discovered Truth. No, not Truth—I have already known it. I have discovered how you convince yourselves that it is not. And it sickens me. There is no Truth in your words. You use them only as a cover. You would bury Truth under their sheer weight. It's pathetic, really. An act of desperation, subverting Truth by championing ignorance. You cannot change the Truth. I was myself once like you. Living in a prison of words, a prison I crafted for myself. Do you know the meaning of Revise? Revision? Re-: again : anew : back : backward. Vision: the act or power of seeing : SIGHT. I was given the greatest gift of my life. I was given my sight back anew, freed from the prison in which I encased myself and thought it armor.
To the extent that authority depends on the ignorance of the governed, good writing will always be subversive.
I read the letter again, even
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Literature
Drink
An order of tea usually didn’t come with an empty container, so I wasn’t sure why mine did. I tried to ask the waitress, but her back was already turned. The little box was barely the size of a biscuit. Perhaps that was what was supposed to come with it. I picked it up and turned it over. A few crumbs fell out, nothing more. Also, my thumb was blue. Perhaps a silly thing to note, but there you go.
It was a puzzle for another day. I poured myself a cup from the little ceramic teapot, and inhaled the sweet scent of jasmine. Only a drizzle of golden tea filled the bottom of my cup. The pot was nearly empty.
“Excuse me,” I called out, now thoroughly annoyed. “Someone’s drunk my tea and eaten my biscuit.”
The waitress raised an eyebrow before turning back to the counter.
Some people.
I sipped the liquid -- nearly cold -- and the room shimmered, like a headrush that left everything spinning. I grabbed the table to steady myself, and saw that m
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Leah by C-A-Harland Leah :iconc-a-harland:C-A-Harland 7 3
Literature
The Ninth Circle - Pacing Analysis
    The clear, bell-like tones of the piano filled the hall, reverberating through the cavernous space, enhanced by the auditorium’s inbuilt acoustics.Jamie O’Dwyer closed his eyes as his fingers danced across the black and white keys, feeling the music course through his body like blood. He imagined the crowd, watching wide-eyed. He saw them leaning forward on their seats as his compositions surrounded and uplifted them. [Lengthy sentences set the scene in a slow build (like a panorama shot). The pace is slow but eases the reader into the setting without confusion.]
    As the music drew to its natural close, Jamie paused for effect, hands hovering above the keys. The audience applauded, wept, and cried out for more.
    “Hey, O’Dwyer, don’t fall asleep up there.”
    Jamie looked over the empty seats. [A few short statements break up the scene by jarring the
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Literature
The Ninth Circle - Roadmap
Episode 1
:bulletred: Music student is killed at the university
:bulletred: Tala convinces Aiva to join her on the case by being annoying
:bulletblue: Tala reflects on how Aiva has withdrawn since Hartley’s death and is worried about her.
:bulletred: Leah the sidhe offers Aiva pills to give her back her inspiration
:bulletblue: Aiva considers her own fears and withdrawal
:bulletred: Tala gets into danger with the sluagh
:bulletblue: Tala’s powers start to surface and she represses them
:bulletred: Aiva realises Tala is in trouble and goes after her
:bulletblue: Aiva discards the pills and decides she can do more good by going back to work
:bulletblue: Tala wants to hide her resurfacing powers. She is afraid of them
Episode 2
[Bullet; Red] Dean the white witch is killed by a hellhound
[Bullet; Red] Raven Blackbriar goes to the sisters for help stopping the hellhound
[Bullet; Blue] Tala is just glad Aiva is acting like her normal self again
[Bullet; Red] The sisters inv
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Victoria Mamba by C-A-Harland Victoria Mamba :iconc-a-harland:C-A-Harland 12 8 Donovan Ducovius Ursus Rex by C-A-Harland Donovan Ducovius Ursus Rex :iconc-a-harland:C-A-Harland 9 8
Literature
FFM16-31 The Wars of the Roses
Snowcap stood tall, its white petals gleaming in the morning light, as it examined its fiefdom. Lesser flowers toiled in the fields below, ploughing seedbeds, and tending to the nursery. Delivery flowers rode by on floral vespers, delivering new seeds, and collecting mulch for recycling. Snowcap enjoyed watching the peasants at work, from its high balcony, while the white rose banner fluttered from the flagpole behind it. Such a sight always managed to rouse a feeling of deep nostomania in Snowcap, as it remembered being a bud in the springtime, and all the lesser flowers bowed their heads at its beauty.
Snowcap did not however, get to enjoy the peaceful morning for long. A violent burst rattle down the hallways, and Desdemona burst out onto the balcony, petals perked and thorns raised.
“You, wilted, curly-leafed, deadhead,” Desdemona spat. “‘How dare you proclaim yourself the fairest in the land.”
Snowcap straightened, tossing its head and flicking one le
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Literature
FFM16-30 If the Man Had Seen the Sawdust
He awoke to darkness. He remembered little: men, van, cages.
Harvesting.
Panic gripped him as he felt his body, searching anything that would indicate what they took. There was only darkness. His hands moved to his face, the edge of a bandage stretched across his eyes.
He realised it was not darkness, and started screaming.
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Literature
FFM16-29 Do Not Go Gentle
Tomorrow belongs to those who hear it coming. At least, that was how they’d sold it to me. A journey of self awareness. The reality of getting inside your own head, digging out your weaknesses. Becoming stronger. Smarter. Two days in and I was beginning to wish I had never taken that damned pill. This labyrinth swallowed me whole, and I’ve seen many strange, and not wholly pleasant things.
Today was a beach. Too-white sand shone like stardust, and waves that splintered into thorns and crashed into powder smacked against the shore.
I looked around for the guide, and like always, he appeared almost as soon as I thought of him. Tall, scrawny, gleaming blond hair and mismatched eyes. He loomed over me in a suit that glittered almost as much as the sand.
“What’s with the beach?” I asked, trying not to show that I was startled.
“That’s for you to decide.”
I sighed. I didn’t know why he called himself a guide. He was so damned cryptic.
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Pixie Dust
    Herman skulked into the alley, checking over his shoulder as he went to make sure he hadn’t been followed. This was not the sort of place he wanted to be recognized in. Once he was sure no one had seen him, he turned his attention to finding the boy.
    He was a lot younger looking than Herman expected. With hair falling into his face and an over-sized green t-shirt hanging down to his knees, he gave the impression of being no more than ten or eleven. But maybe that was just the image he maintained for his clientele. They expected to do business with a young boy, and that was what he gave them.
    The boy caught sight of Herman and nodded in greeting. “Can I help you find something?”
    Herman fished out a grubby bit of paper an acquaintance had scrawled the location on and started to hand it to the boy, but stopped himself halfway and held it between them awkwardly. The boy eyed it with amusement.
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    The little runt’s trail stopped in a circle of trees in the middle of nowhere. It either meant he’d doubled back, or he had used some other means to conceal his scent. Either way, it meant he knew he was being followed. That was going to make my job a lot harder. The trail wasn’t going to get any colder, so I decided it was time to take a break.
    It’s not every day the queen herself hires an independent contractor, but she said this mission of this sensitive nature had to be kept secret. It was flattering all the same.
    Not that I thought she was right. A bargain was a bargain, even a stupid one. But the other guy was wrong, too. Only a monster would ask for someone’s firstborn as payment for anything. Losing out on his payment would be a good lesson for him.
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    Cassie should have been dead.
    Her escape pod was only designed to last a few days. The chronometer told her she’d been floating for at least a week. All the readouts were in the green. She had no explanation. The thing had been designed for high-traffic areas, where she would never have to wait very long before someone noticed her and fished her out.
    But the attack had driven her ship away from the usual channels, effectively stranding her. Cassie had no choice but to abandon ship. She watched through the specially tempered viewport as her livelihood was blasted to pieces. And to make matters worse, her pod was carrying her in the wrong direction. She resigned herself to death and waited for it to claim her.
    What came instead was a beautiful woman. “An angel,” she said to herself as she fumbled for the controls. “That makes more sense.”
    The woman offered Cassie a hand. She took it, and w
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Literature
The Gift
“Ready?”
I shake my head, but what does it matter? It’s not a real question, and I’m not a real passenger. I’m just cargo.
The pod seals itself above me, closing off my last view of Earth’s sky: thick clouds, streaked with rain. I try to emboss that sight onto my memory, to savour it for as long as it will last. I wish I wasn’t here.
I don’t feel the pod take off. I don’t see the stars as I fly up to greet them. I don’t hear anything except my own breath, my own heartbeat, my own fingernails scraping against my skin.
I wish I wasn’t here.
The pod is grown (not built, never built) in the shape of an egg, a seed. Curled into its curve I could sleep for a thousand years, not wake until I’ve landed, but despair keeps me awake. I try to think of the place I’ll be going (what will it look like, I wonder? What will they look like? How long will they keep me alive?), but all these thoughts turn to dust behin
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FFM1 2017 - A Cry in the Dark
She slid her hand up his back to rest on his shoulder, stroking the taut muscles there. Streaks of light illuminated their cabin as debris from the wreckage of the unfortunate freighter burned up in their shield. Behind them, the computer continued to rattle out probabilities.
“There’s nothing you can do, John.”
Attention all personnel. The shields are operating at full capability. Probability of survivors, confirmed nil. I repeat, no rescue mission is required. Please return to your stations.
He tightened his grip on the railing, knuckles cracking. They alone knew differently.
Her fingers traced cool lines across the back of his neck. “Forget about it, please. You heard the computer.”
His words grated out through clenched teeth. “I heard it the first time too. Before you edited the report.”
“What would you have me do?”
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The Yggdrasil (Sci-Fi version)
We pity the ones who haven’t seen the Tree of Life.
Those who have seen it, have seen beauty, order and chaos, all in one and one in all.
Your ancestors called it Yggdrasil, and you call it the Universe, but we come from a place where they're one and the same.
Every star is part of its bark. Haven’t you seen a mysterious shape on the sky, which makes you think of a tree? You call it the Milky Way, but we know best. It’s the branch of Yggdrasil that touches your world. If you knew how to ride it, if you knew how to travel inside it, you would see Yggdrasil.
Nine worlds are part of this. You call them planets, you give them names. Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto. We know best. We call them realms, we give them their names. Muspelheim, Alfheim, Midgard, Jötunheim, Asgard, Vanaheim, Svartalfheim, Niflheim, Helheim. Some of you claim that Pluto is not a planet, some of us claim that Helheim is not a realm. There are thousands of ot
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Literature
Contest entry - space invaders
'The Devil is dead,' he muttered, eyes big with disbelief. 'Gone. Turned to stardust.'
Engineer #42 looked at the main screen that covered an entire wall of the Drive, the large hall where monitors blinked with war updates, crews gathered for their missions, and coffee machines worked extra hours. None of that was visible now; the main screen was so bright it made the rest of the Drive non-existent, a place only for shadows.
The left corner of the screen showed a row of pixelated hearts, a highly romanticised indicator of the state of their enemy's ship. The hearts used to be red a few minutes ago, but now, the last one had turned black. Such a calming colour; it made him feel like the Devil had never been there.
The centre of the main screen told a different story; the Devil's spacecraft, an upgraded behemoth of the Destroyer-class, had been blown to bits. The fuel and missiles it carried caused a fireworks Engineer #42 could only dream of, an image made complete by a backgroun
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Literature
The Technician
It doesn’t feel like anything.
That’s the hardest part for people to accept, if you can believe that. The confusion is, of course, understandable. One would expect there to be some sensation associated with being turned back into a child. I can tell a lot about the person asking by the kind of feeling they think might be associated with the transformation. The people who are against the very idea of it often posit that the bones must grind, that there must be an actual heat to the melting of one’s muscles, that the quick retreat of body hair must be akin to thousands of needles sinking into softening skin.
They’re often disappointed when I tell them that the whole procedure is not only completely painless but is in fact devoid of any feeling at all. I suspect it’s because they wished to receive some confirmation of the fear they held of the concept, a fear that is typically based either in personal distaste or some fundamental opposition to an individual t
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The Ninth Circle is Now Available!

Journal Entry: Sat Oct 28, 2017, 6:01 PM
The Ninth Circle




I’m so excited to announce that the paperback edition of The Ninth Circle – Fire is now available for purchase on Amazon!

This book has been in progress for several years now, and I’m so pleased to see it finally in print. Paranormal fantasy has always intrigued me, and pairing one of my classical favourites (Dante’s Inferno) with Irish folklore to create the inspiration for this story made it even more enjoyable.

Like my previous work, Sol.TerraThe Ninth Circle is told by way of episodes. Each is a story in itself, but they string together to form a complete novel. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Each episode/chapter heading also has its own illustrated title page, and there is a preview of the cover of book 2 in the back!

Order online from Amazon now: The Ninth Circle - Fire




The Ninth Circle - Fire

Tala Morgenstern lives for the hunt, embracing her heritage as a demon hunter. When her younger sister, Hartley, disappears while on the trail of her long-lost father, Tala must seek the help of her other sister Aiva, who has turned her back on the underworld of magic and hunting. Suspecting demonic involvement, Tala and Aiva race to find Hartley before she can be claimed by hell.

Their search takes them deeper into the bowels of Dublin’s criminal underground, where the gangs are led by demons, and the currency is souls. Each Circle of hell bringing new dangers, and new revelations about their own place in the demon hunting world.
And all the while, they are watched by the demon who awaits them at the bottom of the Ninth Circle.

Journal designed and coded by kuschelirmel-stock with textures from lebstock

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:iconqueenofeagles:
queenofeagles Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday!
Reply
:iconqueenofeagles:
queenofeagles Featured By Owner Oct 20, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Just wanted to let you know that I finished Sol.Terra (some time ago already) and that I absolutely loved it! Especially Cal, he's awesome! It was also super fun to read about a book that questions why all aliens look like funny coloured humans... It annoys me quite a lot when I see that in a sci-fi movie or game, I'm glad someone came with a good reason for it.

I'll leave a review on amazon - might take some time though...
Reply
:iconc-a-harland:
C-A-Harland Featured By Owner Oct 24, 2017  Student Writer
Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it :) 
That always bothered me too, haha, hence why I decided someone needed to come up with an answer. 
Reply
:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday, dearheart. I hope you have a beautiful day :heart:
Reply
:iconc-a-harland:
C-A-Harland Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2017  Student Writer
Thank you. It was a great day.
Reply
:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome, lovely!
Reply
:iconlachicarara:
LaChicaRara Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2017  Professional General Artist
Happy Birthday!! :D
Reply
:iconc-a-harland:
C-A-Harland Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2017  Student Writer
Thanks!
Reply
:iconqueenofeagles:
queenofeagles Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthdaaaay!!!
Reply
:iconc-a-harland:
C-A-Harland Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2017  Student Writer
Thank yooouuuu!! :D
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