A fabled wall, marking the territory of the werewolves and adorned with the severed skull of a once great alpha, stands between Natalya and her prey.
When she finds the body of Anesa, her beloved mentor, she is determined to hunt down the vampire r...
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"Is that all of it?" she asked, lightly shaking the bag and listening to its contents.
"Yes it's all there," the town elder replied in the darkness, and Natalya was satisfied. Keeping her weapons honed and ready required upkeep; the money would not go to waste.
It was midnight, the next night. Flickering firelight from the distant watch towers could be seen in the distance, faintly illuminating the outlines of the town sentinels that guarded Valwood by night.
"Are you sure that he is dead?" he asked.
"Positive. I saw him turn to dust in the sunlight myself."
"Good," the man said roughly. "I wish you the joy of it."
"Elder Edrich...Anesa was killed last night."
The smile on the elder's face slowly faded away before he nodded. "She will be missed dearly. I'll make the necessary arrangements; you take care of yourself. I know this will not soothe your grief, but the citizens of Valwood are in your debt, Natalya. Though they may not know of your continued efforts to keep their borders safe, they are better for it."
"Thank you, Elder Edrich." Natalya answered. knowing that she would trade all of the money she had if she could only see Anesa again. To hide her face, she placed the money bag in a pouch that she hid out of sight beneath her clothing. When she raised her head again, her eyes were burning, but the darkness hid her tears.
The man did not respond, having already disappeared over the ridge of the hill that marked their meeting place. She knew he would keep her secrets, but still Natalya checked to see that he was truly gone before she hurriedly began stripping off her outer garments.
She took off her black top first, revealing the lighter colored blouse beneath. She tucked the amulet beneath it, out of sight. She took her pants off next, also black, and stowed her excess clothing in the bag as well. She pulled a simple brown shirt from her bag and began to dress in the darkness. She shed her identity as easily as she had shed the clothing, and with their removal, she turned from a huntress to ordinary girl.
She transferred the stake from her leg where it glinted dangerously in plain view if her skirt shifted, to a sheath that rested under her shirt against her ribs. One never knew when trouble would arise.
Natalya wasn't sure how she felt about her double life. On one hand it was better not to draw unwanted attention in her direction, and when you blended in that was hard to do. Aside from her father's elder duties, she led a relatively normal life inside Valwood. But it was a lonely existence as well, and many times she longed to confide in her people and to relieve herself of the nightly horrors she was forced to confront.
She shook her head; her wishes could never match up to reality and she didn't do well to dwell on the fact. As much as she longed for someone to tell all of her secrets to, she knew she never could. She also did not wish to endanger any of her friends or family. The vampires were watching and waiting along the fringes of her deceptively neat society, learning and observing their prey much like the natural predators of the forest did. It would only be a matter of time before the people closest to her were targeted, and she continued to delay that day as much as she could by blending in, and appearing as she was, a teen aged girl. Besides, secrets were hard to keep and people harder to trust.
She threw the last of her belongings into her bag, slinging it across her shoulder. Physically and mentally exhausted, she headed in the opposite direction as the man had. She headed down the steeply sloping hill to her waiting bed, ready to surrender to the calm of sleep.
~ ~ ~
An hour passed before Elder Tomas Edrich first heard the scream. It had the desperate quality of a death cry coupled with a note of surprise that one utters when he has not anticipated an assault on his life. The sound had been a stark disruption against the sereneness of twilight, and now an unsettled silence permeated the scene. The other watchtowers were visible only by their fires, and they remained still and passive, their men having not heard the cry of their own. The elder turned back towards the hill, but there was no sign of Natalya. He had not been surprised, and bitterly he turned once more towards the source of the shout.
He had already completed his rounds after meeting with Natalya; each of the watchtowers had been visited and he had received all of their reports. Everything was quiet; the gongs lay untouched, and the guards were unconcerned by strange noises or visual disturbances. Until now.
He himself had never been the fighting type, but the cry of a fellow man had roused his instincts. Time had taken most of the man's physical strength, but his senses remained largely untouched. His body was tired now but still robust— stout and rotund, but still muscular. Resigned to facing the threat without the vampire huntress, he turned to where he had heard the man cry out. He kept to the shadows and headed towards the nearest watchtower. The firelight danced in its torch above him, deceptively innocent. Sweat began to drip from his skin as fear began to take hold over him. He had brought no weapons to meet Natalya so he held his hands out protectively in front of him, acutely feeling the absence of a blade in his fist.
It seemed to take forever for him to reach the tower. It was built entirely of wood and encased a large staircase that lead to the gong and the torch above where the man would have stood guard. The elder imagined him passing the long hours fighting sleep and tending to the fire, perhaps entranced by its unending dance within its confinements. How slowly the night might have passed before this fateful moment!
The elder pulled himself onto the staircase and began to climb, all the while dreading his destination. He did not know what he would find when he finally reached the top; he only knew that he did not want to see what kind of condition the man may be in.
He ascended the last of the steps and nearly cried out at what he found. The watchman lay in a thick pool of blood as still more trickled slowly from the wounds in his neck. He remained unmoving and the elder knew without approaching that the man would move no more.
Fighting waves of nausea and knowing the man was beyond help, the elder turned to descend the staircase, but an odd swishing noise told him that the danger had not yet passed. He froze in his position and waited with bated breath for the threat to reveal itself.
He did not wait long. His uneasy stance had given way to cold self-assurance, and he stood proudly before incoming death. He knew before he fell that everything he had done in his life to become an elder had given way to this moment and had defined his very being. His rise to power had been marked by a strong and true compassion for Valwood and his fellow citizens.
His end was marked by a sharp pain in his back as he was thrown forward. His wrists took the impact, and he slammed hard into them, bending them outward with the force of his fall. He had not yet turned to stand when another pain assaulted his neck and he cried out just as the other man had. His body crumpled as his blood was released and the man sank lifelessly to the floor of the tower, dead before he had reached it. His empty eyes had never seen his assailant, the creature that had bestowed upon him a quick ruination before feeding from his wounds and disappearing into the woods.
