A Realm Without Rain

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Digital drawing. Silhouette of a hooded figure seen from the back and from waist up, standing in front of a large window with twelve panes. Two glowing translucent wings, delicate like a fly’s, emerge from the figure’s back. The window is framed with dark fuzzy curtains. Outside, gray clouds loom overhead. A few spots of light and hazy shapes are visible past a haze of rain, falling at an angle. A few drops and trickles of water appear on the window glass.

“Tell me of your wanderings,” my sovereign said, as I bowed before them.

“I bring gifts and I bring tidings,” I said.  I gestured to the pallet of goods from the land I had recently visited. 

“Have you found a worthy place?” my sovereign asked, ignoring my gifts.

I raised my head, but kept my eyes lowered.  “Yes, sovereign.  Worthy, but…I encountered a great challenge.”

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The Black Dwarf Star

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Once upon a time, there was a thriving civilization living under the light of a warm yellow sun.  As eons passed, the civilization spread.  It advanced.  It regressed.  It advanced again.  It rose.  It declined.  And it rose again.  It changed, became unrecognizable from its past self.  And as the civilization did, so did the sun that burned above it and smiled down upon it.  The warm yellow sun was aging, and as it did, it grew warmer and warmer, and bigger and bigger, darker and darker, yellow to orange to red, until the smiling yellow sun became a glaring red giant. Continue reading