WiFi at last! 

After a week of exploring,  I’ve finally found a WiFi signal… It’s been refreshing to detach myself from the Internet and travel to astonishing destinations.

I feel like I have so much to write about,  but an early flight and sleepy eyes makes it hard to type,  I thought I would share a few of my photos for tonight, hope that is alright with you beautiful darlings?
Love Anne xx

25.04.17

 

Part 70

The Birth of Prophecy

 

Novana, shocked and stunned by recent events, the lies, betrayal, death… Six weeks before her due date and she went into labor. Her waters broke as she was restrained roughly by brutal guards, bound and dragged without a care for her nearing contractions. She was pulled towards the palace chapel, the peaceful sanctuary had been violated in the most horrific manner. Corpses hung limp from rusty chains, their blood gathered in brass bowls and used to decorate the walls and ceiling and floorboards in vile magical runes, corrupt language and morbid symbols.

Fear gripped her heart as the desire to push increased, pressure building within her tummy, a rancid goat, diseased and maggot ridden was draped over the alter like a sick trophy, its slick black blood used to strengthen wards in a circle upon the floor. Terrified, Novana was stripped and painted in blood. No chains were required to hold her now as the magic spell decorating her body held her immobile. No scream, either in fear or in pain, could escape her throat.

Nine robed men, or women, she couldn’t tell, entered the ruined chapel and stood circling the struggling pregnant woman, her body craving birth, but Novana was trapped within her body, in her mind, she could only see the terrible scene evolve around her. The hooded figures started to chant, to sway, repeating a strange arcane phrase in a rolling pattern.

Carrying a severed leg, totally naked save for blood stained hands, Fendor walked into the circle. Novana knew the boot and she tasted bitter bile at the back of her throat, yet the spell even prevented her vomiting from repulsion. He used the blood from the stump to draw upon her convulsing stomach, uttering the same chant as his fellow robed companions.

Her fear was overwhelming as Fendor stirred his seed into the blood, yet she could not even shed a tear. For at one point, Novana had loved Fendor, loved him enough to carry his child, the babe now struggling to breach free too early, too premature. To be born into this gore was devastating, she wanted nothing more than death, she silently prayed to die in childbirth, to save her soul from this evil magic which was suffocating. Yet that was selfish, she needed to protect her babe but how was that possible while immobile?

Her eyes were dry now, fear and shock overwhelmed her mind as Fendor cut his child free from her womb, her mind tipped on the edge of insanity. Only the sudden cry of her tiny daughters first breath drew her back from the verge of madness, the pain was unbearable and finally there was nothing more than blissful darkness and the dwindling cries of a new born babe…

 

Anne Harrison 19.04.17

Adventure

*Musings*

 

I have so many ideas brimming around the corners of my mind, haunting my dreams, characters knocking at the door of creation demanding life. Yet my time at the keyboard has been limited by real life adventures around the country and beyond off to foreign wilderness, ever inspiring my frantic mind, fueling my desire to write despite my inability to do so.

I have notebook and pen packed with me, I have freedom to scribble notes and pour forth my dreams onto paper. The next six scenes have already been played out, yet by the time I get to kill my darlings, I know the plot could change. That is why I love the freedom of writing without thought, to allow my hands to direct the course of action.

I have visited some incredible places and the list of locations before me is even more impressive, I am nervous, I am excited, I hold anticipation barely in check and I know that inspiration will follow me like a bouncy puppy, jumping up always needing attention.

I see inspiration in art, in buildings, in scenery, in the people I meet, the people I pass, in my dreams, in literature, in starring out the window absently watching the world pass me by. Words flow into my brain, cram my thoughts with ideas… I might need a bigger notebook.

I should like to write about my travels too, if my characters ever let me, and I can try if I find WiFi… For now, I must return to work… Even that I can find inspiring!

I will try to write Part 70 at lunchtime, it’s a lovely number to leave you on until I return full of words and slim of wallet…

 

Love Anne x

19.04.17

 

 

 

Part 69

A Chance to Kill 

 

Alleia slipped out the bed and wrapped a sheet around her slender figure, it was mid-afternoon and the sun pooled through the locked windows. She stood watching the people mull around in the courtyard beyond, once more feeling a captive in her former home. Her thoughts a jumbled web of confusion, she regretted leaving Hera with Kol, yet she had been so keen to be reunited with her Son’s Father, she had failed to consider any danger. This last twist in events caused her to fear who she could trust. Fendor had betrayed her Father with the aid of Grave, then Fendor had turned against Grave once his usefulness had come to an end. Alleia wondered how deep Fendor’s plans were set, how many layers there were to his betrayal and what his end goal ultimately was…

Everything was overwhelming, even Kane appeared to know more than he would say and her delight to be with him was overshadowed with doubt. She could no longer trust him, trust anyone…

Kane was actually sound asleep, sprawled in the sun, his breathing heavy and rhythmic. Their son,  Seizon-sha, laid upon his chest, the babe had fallen to sleep first. Tears stung her eyes, was it not for her troubled thoughts, this scene would be idyllic.

A notion to escape came into mind, to flee with her son to Hera and get aid. Glancing around Alleia noticed Kane’s discarded clothes, scattered across the floor with her own. Among the garments a blade, a knife she had seen him with before… She softly padded over the floorboards and gathered up the weapon, it felt heavy in her hand, so clumsy, she wasn’t used to being armed. It slid free easier than she anticipated, wicked and sharp.

Returning to the bed she held the edge of the blade against Kane’s throat, he didn’t move, his breathing never changed, still heavily slumbering. Alleia could quite simply cut his throat as he slept, gather her babe and run. Her eyes glanced over to her beloved Seizon-sha, could she really murder his father as they slept together. The scars which still healed were evidence of what Kane had been through himself, had he been part of this deeper conspiracy, would he have really suffered so, just to have killed Davenport, kill Pepe. Was this all part of Fendor’s plan? Was Kane so loyal to his General that he withstood torture?

Her head swan with all these questions, tears fell freely down her cheeks, frustrated, confused. The knife trembled in her inexperienced grip, nerves stole her courage.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Kane opened his eyes.

Alleia shrieked…

 

 

Anne Harrison 12.04.17

Part 68

The Mutilated Prince

 

Kol was conscious as he was restrained, back flat against a hard table, his arms bound to the table legs. His own injured legs he could barely move, if he raised his head, he could see the wicked bolts that had torn through both thighs, yet could not count their number, his slacks were stained crimson, hot blood still flowed, though the stream had started to slow. He near fainted from shock several times as he was roughly manhandled.

Two barbarian guards held him down by the shoulders causing fear to shot through his core, panic threatening to blur the edge of his consciousness as Fendor came into view, brandishing a wickedly sharp curved knife that caught the light.

“That looks painful.” he remarked, gripping Kol’s right thigh, The Prince winced. “Very nasty.” Fendor purred, gripping hold of one arrow shaft and wrenching it free violently.

Kol jolted, screaming, yet the hefty barbarians easily held him down.

Fendor ripped a second arrow free, blood pouring. Kol swooned until Fendor slapped him hard. “Stay with me, you’re not going to want to miss this part…” His smile was pure evil as he leered at the injured Prince.

Kol felt the cold steel of the knife slowly dip into the white hot injury left torn and exposed, following the track of the arrow shaft, Fendor admired how easily the new knife severed flesh, tearing into the leg to bone. Twisting the blade to cut wider, slipping through muscle, circling the entire thigh. Blood soaked the table, the floor. Kol had ceased screaming having gone into shock, trembling, jolting nerves afire as Fendor slowly severed his leg.

Yet Fendor found the bone difficult to break with the knife and reverted to a smaller hatchet. Kol lost consciousness, mercifully, as his leg was finally torn away from his body. Shock and loss of blood threatened to end his life, yet Fendor needed him alive, the stump cauterized and cleaned, yet he cruelly left the arrows in bedded in his remaining leg …

 

 

Anne Harrison 12.04.17

Part 67

A Cage without Bars

 

The room was not locked, the door left mockingly ajar, clear laughter heard from beyond. Yet Indigo could not move an inch towards freedom. Wards and glyphs, runes and sigils, painted in goats blood adorned the walls preventing her from approaching the door. Like a magnet that repelled it’s polar partner, Indigo was forced back from the door by the power of the bloodstained symbols. Attempting to leave caused her to feel nauseous, dizzy and faint. Whoever had painted the walls had a very strong understanding of her craft, particularly the more negative side of magic, the forbidden rites, manipulation, control, the alteration of will power.

Sickness and disease stained the darkened blood, traits that only strengthened the negative energy that restrained Indigo stronger than any rope or chains ever could. She resigned herself to such a gloomy fate, seated herself directly in the centre of the room where the effects were less obnoxious. Yet she felt a heavy weight push down upon her, increasing her discomfort, glancing up Indigo noticed an exceptionally nasty symbol which drew her magical energy from her very soul.

Eventually she was forced by the surrounding negativity to curl in a curled fetus position, which made the harrowing darkness just about bearable… Kept on the edge of consciousness, demonic shadows clawing at her pure mind, carving out her bright energy for their own foul desires.

Such was her cage without bars…

 

Anne Harrison 11.04.17

Part 66

Divided

 

“You are brooding.” Fendor ceased his relentless scheming when he realised his companion was not listening, just starring absently out the window, silently regarding the bloodstains that remained on the sandy arena floor.

“I’m just tired.” Kane replied, lifting his glass to his lips yet again without taking a drink.

“Don’t tell me you’ve actually falling for her, you know she will have to die.”

“Then why shouldn’t I be able to enjoy her?” He pushed the glass away. “At least until I have to kill her.”

Fendor laughed then… “And they say I’m cold hearted!”

“Well?”

“Fine, go, enjoy the woman!” Fendor chuckled, claiming the discarded drink.

“I’m taking the baby with me.” Kane stood, regarding the crib set up in the room. The babe was sound asleep after a wet nurse had settled him down following a feed.

“No. He stays where he is… Don’t!”

Yet Kane had already scooped his child up carefully, awkwardly, his inexperience evident. Completely ignoring Fendor.

“Why? Kane are you fucking stupid…”

“This way she will trust me.” He replied, “and she will continue to trust me until I crush her throat.” His coldness stopped Fendor short, instead he stepped aside, allowing Kane to take his son to Alleia…

 

***

 

Alleia was asleep, curled tightly in the far corner of the room. Her hair had stuck to her face where tears had dried upon her cheeks. Kane knelt by her side and softly brushed her hair free, he considered killing her at that moment while she slept, regarding the size of his hand and how delicate she appeared, so slender and petite. Hardly any strength would be required to snap her neck.

The baby gurgled, causing her to stir… “Kane?” She blinked… “How did you find him? Find me? What are you doing here?” She sat up reaching out for her son.

“Don’t ask me anything.”

“Why Kane?”

“Because I don’t want to lie to you.” He gathered her in his arms and simply kissed her so softly…

“You’re frightening me.” Alleia leaned into his embrace.

“You should be frightened of me.”

“And that only makes me want you more.” She whispered…

 

 

Anne Harrison 07.04.17