When I finished the first picture prompt for the month, I turned my attention to the new image I wanted to use. You can check out the image on DeviantArt or scroll down to see the inspiration for yourself. While the image sparked my imagination, it wasn’t as focused as I would have preferred. My mind immediately saw the wolves, or hounds if you prefer, as summoned beasts composed of living shadow. While that would make for an interesting story point, the underlying story eluded my mental grasp. So instead of puttering along with an undeveloped concept, I shelved the idea and shifted my attention to other tales.
Yet as the month drew to a close, I knew I needed to write something for this image. Deadlines have a way of stirring creativity. With a trio of stories stacking up, ideas for each surfaced, including this one. Would you travel a road alone, one that seasoned merchants avoid once the sun slips beyond the horizon? Would whispered tales of unnatural creatures and assaults give you pause?
On this particular night, a woman walked that dangerous road, her pace unhurried beneath the pale sweep of moonlight. As she traveled the lonely road, two groups of hidden mercenaries tracked her every step, their blades and bows ready. Should they have such confidence in their numbers? Or does this woman know something that should frighten them away from their job? Some prey lure their hunters to them, and not every contract is as straightforward as it appears.
Tyrel retreated into the shadows, letting the darkness consume him. He glanced to his left and nodded as he raised a finger. When he saw Malik nod, he gestured down the trail, highlighting the woman traveling by herself. He then turned toward his companions beside him. “Once she’s between our positions, we’ll spring the trap and collect our bounty.”
“Are you sure about this?” One of the shadowy figures asked, pulling his weapon from its sheath. The blade caught the pale moonlight as he peered through the foliage. “Something about this woman is making me feel uneasy.”
“Why are you bothered?” The last brigand asked as he elbowed his companion. “There’s no way this ends well for her.”
“You shouldn’t ignore Ballard’s concern, Adlar,” Tyrel said as he retrieved his own blade. “Given that most caravans avoid this road at night, and our target is casually braving its dangers, I’d be concerned if Ballard wasn’t uneasy.”
“Do our superior numbers put you at ease?” Adlar asked as he withdrew an arrow and placed it against the string. “I’m also wondering if that’s why you insisted that half of us use bows.”
“The individual who hired us was the one who laid that obligation on our shoulders,” Tyrel said as he resumed studying her. “Though given her demeanor, and the lack of traveling companions, I’m glad he insisted.”
As she neared, Tyrel jostled his people’s shoulders before placing a finger across his lips as he tightened his other hand around the hilt of his dagger. Their target eventually passed by them, and when she reached the halfway point between the two parties, Tyrel and Ballard emerged from the shadows. They brandished their daggers while a massive thug stepped out, blocking the woman’s path.
“Valerian Thorne, your success has angered your betters,” Tyrel said, stepping toward her. “We’re here to bring you to them. While they expressed a preference for how you’re escorted, killing you is an available option, one we’re willing to take.”
Moonlight illuminated the woman’s form as she casually turned toward them, her laughter warm yet sinister, echoing along the trail. “Do you know more than my name?”
“We were given all we needed to know.” Tyrel’s gaze flicked to his left as he raised his dagger. “Ready your arrows!”
“How many do you possess?” Valerian asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.
A grin touched Tyrel’s lips as he took a step to his right, giving his archer a clear shot. “There are three excellent marksmen with their arrows trained on your heart.”
“That’s an insultingly low number.” Valerian shook her head as her hands fell to her side. A tsking filled the stretch of road as she raised her hands. “Had you tripled that number, you may have had a chance to escort me.”
“What are you doing?”
“Educating you,” Valerian said as she winked at Tyrel. Before any brigand could react, guttural growls ripped through the forest as vibrant, glowing red eyes, like ancient coals, blinked open all around them. “Unfortunately, whenever I’m forced to tutor the uneducated, despite my unparalleled success, my methods are considered cruel.”
Tyrel shook his head as he thrust his dagger at the woman. “Fire!”
However, the only response was a trio of yelps and cries, then snapping twigs. He turned toward Ballard, only to see a massive hound made of living shadow crash into him. Before Tyrel could react, the hound whipped its glowing eyes away and dragged his limp companion into the woods.
He whirled toward Valerian, finding her right next to him. “What are you?”
“A question you shouldn’t have feared asking your employer.” She looked over her shoulder, tapping her chin. “I suppose I should let a couple of you report back to whoever hired you.”
With a sensual smile, she reached up and caressed Tyrel’s face. Then she grasped his hair and yanked it, dragging the surprised man to his knees. She kneeled and unleashed an ear-piercing whistle right beside him. As she rose to her full height, half a dozen hounds emerged from the forest’s darkness and sauntered toward Valerian.
When one reached her, she released Tyrel’s hair and caressed the hound right behind its ear. Tyrel’s gaze slid to the massive creature formed from a swath of living night with vibrant red eyes. It was nothing more than teeth and smoke and, based on its docile demeanor, wholly submitted to her will, just like the others. A snap thundered through the forest, compelling the hounds to surround Valerian as she brushed Tyrel’s cheek.
“You two living fools can deliver my message.” She brushed the hound’s neck as she gave the man another wink. “And considering how treacherous this road seems to be, I’ll leave two of my hounds with you.”
“What?”
She patted his cheek as she rose. “What’s your name?”
“Why do you care?”
She reached down and scratched the hound’s ear. “You can either accept my hound’s company or provide me with your name.”
“Tyrel Garnett,” he stammered as he fell back and scrambled into a tree.
She patted her leg, drawing all six beasts to her, as she turned and walked away. When she neared the other survivor, she stopped and glanced down at him. “Either tell me your name or you’ll have my hound to ensure your safety.”
“Malik Shore,” the brigand said, crawling out of their way.
Her smile looked alien, as if it belonged on one of her shadowy hounds rather than her. He stood basking in the moonlight, observing the men before blowing each of them a kiss. “Are the pair of you absolutely certain you don’t want my hounds to accompany you on your return journey to your employer?”
Both men scrambled away from her.
“Pity, considering you were so eager to start this encounter.” She gave them a deep bow before she spun about and departed. Her hounds stalked after her, their glowing eyes never leaving the trembling men as they growled.