Shades of Light

Note from the Author:

Explicit Sex, violence, brutal monstrous behavior, forced elements, and cruel immortals.

Please read with caution as some portions may be triggering for some.

1812 Outside Igonox

Something watched her.

She looked up at the dark sky. Wishing those heavy clouds would part enough to let moonlight cast over the fields surrounding her hut and let her see what was out there.

But tonight, was so dark that even fields of wheat seemed black. Consuming all light instead of glistening in it, as they generally would.

Alisa was standing at her window. Breath tight in her chest and grip clenching the wooden sill. She wore her lip thin, as she squinted into the dark.

The starless night refused to allow even the merest sliver of moonlight to illuminate the meadow parting her small cottage from the woods which were the only way back to the village.

Scents came to her on the same wind that tossed thin tresses back from her face. Crushed alfalfa, wild clover and wet grass.

The same as any other night.

But tonight was different. Dangerous.

She picked up on the ominous feeling as clearly as the cool breeze on her face. She didn’t yet know what it was. But she could feel it so strongly, its presence made the air difficult to breathe. Every time it got close enough, Alisa saw visions of spilled blood tarnishing trees and grass in a bright splash. A watery rush in her ears followed by the sound of steady drops falling from leaves onto the grass.

It was a portent of what was coming for her.

Unfortunately her visions came in direct images of what would happen, or sometimes symbolically. It was always hard to decipher which it was.

Eyes followed her every move. Trailing over her like a repugnant touch. Feeling the same as it had, all day. Making her skin crawl.

She’d begun feeling it while at the market today. Once it had washed over her, she’d rushed straight home. As she’d walked the path, she’d heard the faint rattle of leaves, the crunch of a rock or two, behind her.

Turning several times, had yielded only the barren dirt path back to the market center.

It didn’t change the fact that she knew something had been there. Lurking on huge paws. Padding quietly over her footprints nearly as soon as she made them.

Always a mere breath behind her.

Standing at the window overlooking the dark field she was sure, that had changed. Now it was closing in. Step by step it stayed just beyond the light, shielded by the

cover of descending night. Each hour brought it closer to her front door.

Swallowing hard she fought the terrible fear clawing through her.

Sensitive to such things she felt this things energy. It was hungry. Starved for violence and excited for the midnight hours. The darkest black of night.

Vibrations rose off it. Too fast to be human.

Behind her the fireplace spit slightly as it crackled over a thick log making her jump. Warming the cottage, it illuminated her body at the window.

Beautiful and slender, Alisa descended from a long line of Dread sorceresses. Her shadow revealed the delicate shoulders tracing into a slim waist. Vibrant yellow and blue skirts framed her hips in gentle waves. A leather bodice pressed her breasts high as was the custom. Which left them straining against the rough fabric of her chemise. Black hair was a shining curtain down her back. Nervously reaching around she fisted it and tugged it over her shoulder where it draped to her thighs.

Though she’d never hurt a soul, the people of Igonox still believed her a Devil worker Dread. Years ago, they’d forced her from the protective walls of the kingdom, offering her no choice but to seek sanctuary in the fields beyond the moat.

Well aware no one would house her, shelter her, she’d faced the fact that she was completely alone.

They wouldn’t help her, even if they heard her. They feared her that much.

There was nowhere she could run. So tonight she’d gathered her strength, forced herself to rise from where she cowered in the corner of her hut for so long, and shoved open the shutters. She’d decided to face what hunted her head on.

She was no coward.

At the window now, she refused to return to the dark. Quaking like a child until it came for her. Her hands gripping the coarse wood of the shutters so tightly they shook

Silver gaze studying the sloping field, she watched the silhouettes of trees swaying in that dull breeze, carefully searching for unusual movement. Branches moved against the backdrop of lazy clouds crossing the sky. It was impossible to separate what was alive from shadow.

Magic coursed through her, thicker than her own blood. Her abilities to move wind and wield energy were things grown through decades of strengthening her aura like a muscle to be flexed. Power inherited from her ancestors.

But this wind was far too weak to save her, tonight.

She knew she’d be no match for what waited. Intruding magic bombarded her. Unnatural and powerful it stole her breath. Fine hairs on her neck went erect, those on her head tingled with awareness and her breaths came in terrified huffs.

Sending her aura in smoky tendrils, she made a last effort to see if she could find what was out there.

If she knew what it was, maybe she could fight it.

A projection of her spirit emerged in a burst of energy only she could see. An image of herself floating on light, feet running beneath a willowy skirt across a moonlit field she followed the remnants of the intruder’s energy like footprints. Trailing after it she entered the forest.

And found it hunkered behind shrubs, a

huge black feline with silver stripes.

Following its gaze, she found she was in direct line with the cottage staring at her body posed between the shutters.

Moving its paws restlessly, its sleek muscles rippled.

Yellow eyes flicked to her.

Staring at the puff of energy standing next to it, the tiger gave a snarl and leapt toward her foggy projection.