First, I’d like to apologize for both the delay in the releasing of this month’s genre poll and by extension writing this first story. That said, as soon as I posted the results, I started thinking about the first story for my patrons, an action/adventure tale. Despite the immediate jump into the work, there was nothing but an empty void as I thought about what I wanted to write about. However, failure to write these stories is unacceptable to me. As a result, I grabbed a set of story cubes and gave them a toss. Once all nine of the fantasy inspired set were staring up at me, it took me a few minutes to find three cubes that tickled my fancy. The results were an imp or a goblin, a hooded woman, and a pair of winged shoes. And in that singular moment, a scene flooded through my mind.
The imp or goblin creature was self-explanatory. The hooded figure was a perfect option for Tiatha (though I believe the cloak vanished from the tale), and the winged shoes were transitioned into an avian shifter. While I possessed an excellent scene, I needed something to help me get out of my current funk. So I turned to AI for an assist. I lined out the scene to the system and asked for a fleshed out story. Now what came back was interesting. It was by no means what I would consider a polished tale. So I took that skeleton and altered it to be more in line with my work. It also needed some extra definition in certain key areas. Despite relying upon AI more than previously, this is still very much my tale.
So grab a seat and join me as Tiatha is ambushed on the edge of shifter territories.
While Tiatha is staring out from the edge of shifter territory, an avian friend and an arrow interrupt her thoughts…
A gust of wind swept through the air, tugging at Tiatha’s hair and sending strands swirling around her shoulders. The scent of damp grass filled her as the fiery oranges of the rising sun spilled over the horizon, setting the sky ablaze. As another gust of wind tugged her loose strands, a soft thud announced the arrival of a massive bird settling beside her.
Without turning, Tiatha wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Durin, has your tribe rescinded their friendship, or did you simply grow tired of me?”
Amid a chorus of sharp screeches, the feathers lining the bird’s body receded into its undulating limbs. When the shifter’s form stilled, he shook his head. “You’re always welcome here, Tiatha. Though I’m curious about your business.”
“Does it—”
She trailed off as a soft hiss sounded through the air, followed by the faintest brush against her cheek. Her hand shot up, her breath catching as crimson liquid seeped past her fingers. In a flash, a golden glow blazed from her fingertips, burning away the blood and sealing the wound.
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