D.D. Ward is Writing

  Amy paced my room as she spoke, “And this seer is where?” As she moved, Quincy trailed in her shadow, tail wagging. Quincy made it clear from his posture that he thought this was the best game ever.  I pointed a finger downward, “The Hyperboreans have her in the lowest level of the catacombs. She’s a seer with a precognitive gift- like me. But somehow, she can send messages to other people with the precognitive gift. She asked me to save her.” “How are you going to do that?” Amy asked, “You had a vision, from her. That leaves you weak as water. She has to know that as a seer herself.” “I suspect she doesn’t have any other options. But this is a huge opportunity. I’ve written a letter for Fiona; can you have it sent over to Myrddhin House? With luck we will have her and Vincent over tomorrow to attempt this rescue operation. That’s assuming you want to come with us. You’re my personal maid, so I can take you with me whenever I want. But I don’t want you on this unless you’re ...

We continued walking. We had reached my room when the world started to spin. My nausea returned, and I clamped both hands over my mouth. I closed my eyes to try and stop the room spinning.  “Ren! Is this from the kidnapping?” “I’m pretty sure it’s another vision. I’m getting used-”  And then darkness. “I see you. Do you see me? You must, yes?” An image came into focus of a pale middle-aged woman with her brown hair tied back in a french braid.  “Yes, I see you,” I answered. She was standing in a cavern, lit by torches and candlelight. Further up behind her, I saw worked stone blocks. She was in the deepest part of the Octavian Catacombs.  “And so here we are, two seers on opposite sides of a conflict. But only one of us is willingly on their side.”  “You aren’t doing this by choice?” “My name is Brianna MacMurchadha. I’m from the Island of Tech-Duinn. I am a war slave. The precognitive gift is rare in Hyperborea. Object read and sixth sense are far more common. ...

The party was winding down. I was quite drunk at this point, and was wandering the halls of Myrddhin House. I was looking for a bathroom. I found what looked like the door to a restroom. I checked the handle. It wasn’t locked, so I opened the door.  “Not again,” I muttered.  Leon stood in front of me, pulling up his trousers. Lynn was putting her bra back on. Lynn looked up, “Not again.” I looked away, “At least I didn’t interrupt you this time.” “Yeah, we’re done,” Leon said. “Ren, get in here and close the door.” I did as she asked and faced away as they dressed. “So, now you know what a harlot I am.” She whispered. “Harlot,” I said, “Good word. Applies to me though. Not you.” “But I’m marrying Prince Wulfric. And I… with Leon.” “Are you engaged yet?” “No. “Are you doing the deed with anyone else right now?” “No.” “Then you aren’t a harlot. And, I want to be clear, you wouldn’t be worth less in my eyes if you were promiscuous. There is nothing wrong with that. You know both ...

  We continued chatting after Baroness Wander left. We were mid conversation when a guard approached Fiona.  “Your Excellency, we’ve found something odd.  Two pairs of Hessian boots in the garden, next to the wall.” So, they do call them Hessian boots. I tapped Fiona’s shoulder, “Why are they called Hessian boots?” Fiona shook her head, “I do not know that. There is a Hessekassel region in Agartha. I believe it relates to that. But I cannot confirm that. Now, a moment please, beloved.” Fiona turned back to the guard. “If you have found clothing, then I see two possibilities. It may be that people are undressing in twos. In which case leave them be so long as they are not doing so somewhere disruptive. Allow people their privacy and their pleasure. It could also be that somebody has slipped into our party and changed their clothing. In which case, hunt them down and restrain them. Then inform me so that I may question them. If they resist, remember that your safety takes p...