Watch Out

In today's story, Watch Out, the king's men are sent out to explore strange sounds in the forest

Today's prompt was inspired by a recent tornado watch, not to be confused with a tornado warning... which can be really confusing. 

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More about Susan Quilty

Susan Quilty mainly writes novels, including two standalone novels and her YA series: The Psychic Traveler Society.  Susan's short stories for Freely Written are created during quick writing breaks and shared as a way to let go of perfection and encourage writing for fun.

Website:  SusanQuilty.com
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Transcript

Below is the transcript for Season 1, Episode 160 of Freely Written, a podcast by author Susan Quilty:

Welcome to Freely Written, where a simple prompt leads to a little unplanned fiction.  

[Light piano music]

Hi, friends! I’m Susan Quilty, and today’s prompt is Watch Out

Here in Northern Virginia, we’ve had some serious storms that could have produced tornadoes. But luckily didn’t in my area. During the weather alerts, I had my usual confusion over the difference between a tornado watch and a tornado warning. 

Now, when I stop to think about it, I know the difference. A tornado watch means the conditions are right, and they are watching for tornadoes. A tornado warning means a tornado has been sighted. But that seems backward to me. 

In my mind, a warning is like a road sign that says, “deer crossing” or “falling rocks.” It’s telling you to be on alert for something that may or may not happen. Watch sounds more like, “watch out!” there’s the thing you need to avoid.

I know I’m wrong, and the weather service isn’t going to change their definitions. But those terms are what inspired today’s writing prompt. 

As always, I tried to put that out of my mind, sitting down with the prompt to write whatever might come to mind, with no planning and very little editing, so I could record this story and share it with you. 

Here’s how that went today:

Watch Out 

There was a jangle of metal and a clomp of hooves as the king’s men rode through the castle gates. Townspeople cleared the way, pausing to watch the procession. Men and horses alike were clad in armor, raising worried whispers as there had been no word of war or tournament. 

“Out on parade,” a young man scoffed, while his eyes clung to the shine of shields and swords.

The old man beside him shook his head knowingly. He’d heard the whispers others hadn’t. The whispers that came in the depths of night, a susurrus murmur carried on an otherworldly current beneath the awareness of younger men. 

This retinue was heeding a call, summoned to action by the castle witch. One who, by virtue of advanced age, could hear the whispered warnings as well as the old man who now watched them pass by. 

When the men had cleared the town and neared the edge of the woods, the captain ordered them to a halt. He sat atop his horse, studying the men chosen for this quest. 

“We have been called,” he began in a voice that reached to the very last man. “Called to seek out a portent of evil. A threat to our kingdom. We know not the nature of this threat, yet we are the watch who will find the warning. We will ride as one and not be charmed by tricks of faerie.” 

The men straightened their spines, chilled by the reminder of what lay in wait in this seemingly tranquil wood. Seeing their stiffened postures, the captain nodded approval and continued.

“Beware the glimmers that appear as shafts of light through the canopy. Shut out the wheedling words hidden under the chitter of animals. Stay the path, never veering into the tangle that conceals portals to the faerie realm.”

The men tightened the grip of their reins and set their jaws in determination. 

“We are to seek out the shadows that shift through the trees. The shadows with steady form and a cold air. We are not to speak with these shadows, nor allow their words to penetrate our minds. We are to observe and return with a report. We are the watch!”

“We are the watch!” the men echoed in confirmation. 

The captain turned his horse to lead the procession, facing an arching tunnel formed by the lush canopy. It was a pleasant day. Mild in temperature, with few clouds in a blue sky. Yet he felt a cold dread spread beneath his breastplate, before shoring his strength to give the command. 

“Watch, out!” 

The column of horses moved forward, their riders on high alert. The seasoned men were familiar with the forest lore. They’d seen shadows before. Not the shadows of trees or men, but the denser shadows that moved of their own accord. 

Though all was calm in the forest, the horses sensed the fear in their riders. They began to skitter on the dried leaves, each slip of a hoof increasing the tension. 

At the back of the line, Cedric, a squire on the cusp of knighthood, allowed his horse to gradually fall behind. It was easy enough with the others preoccupied by their surroundings. Cedric had heard the same tales as the others, but had his doubts about the dangers of the forest. He alone had never seen a shadow without a worldly cause. 

He had volunteered for this quest in the hopes of seeing what the others feared, yet he wasn’t afraid of what they might find. In Cedric’s mind, what others called otherworldly was merely misunderstood. And if there was a faerie realm, he longed to pay a visit. 

“Watch, halt!” the captain called, causing the horses to shuffle in uneasy stillness. 

Cedric nudged his horse to one side, trying to peer beyond the men ahead of him. He saw the captain raise an arm to point between the trees. A murmur spread from man to man, though Cedric had fallen too far behind to hear. 

Instead, a giggle drew Cedric’s attention toward a fallen log near the edge of the path. His eyes darted along its mossy bark, seeking out glimmers of light or a cluster of darkness. He saw nothing unusual yet felt compelled to keep looking. 

“Watch, out!” the captain called, apparently satisfied with whatever he had seen. 

Cedric wanted to follow, but he held his reins firm and let the watch move on without him.

“Hello,” he called tentatively toward the trees, trying for a welcoming tone. 

Another giggle came in reply. With it, Cedric felt the call of a barely heard whisper, “follow me.”

When Cedric tried to comply, his horse refused the tug of his reins. Cedric glanced ahead at the departing watch, then climbed from his horse to step into the forest on foot. 

“Beware,” the whisper seemed to say, as Cedric climbed over the fallen log and ducked beneath a low branch draped in dark ivy. He did not heed the warning, instead moving deeper into the forest, straining to hear the giggle again, following its faint echo with greater urgency.

Upon clearing a thicket, Cedric saw the glimmer of sunlight on water. A small pond shimmering in a forest clearing. A smiling young girl sat at the water’s edge. Flowers twined through her hair, and a woven basket of red berries sat by her side. She gestured Cedric forward, patting the grass beside her. Cedric felt his own face echo her smile of pleasure. As his feet began to step toward her, a nagging fear began to creep in…

“Watch, out!” The captain’s order drew Cedric’s attention. He found himself sitting on his horse, still at the back of the line, the fallen log quiet in the forest beside him.

“Come on, lad, keep up!” the man before him called back with a jerk of his head. “Don’t want to be caught unawares out here.”

Cedric looked from the man to the woods, then urged his horse forward. The image of that young girl stayed in his mind for all his days, though he never met her again.

The End 

Thanks for listening. I hope you enjoyed that short story break. When I’m free-writing from a prompt, I often try to distance myself from whatever inspired the prompt. In this case, I quickly free-associated other meanings of the word “watch,” passing over a wristwatch to jump into some kind of guard on watch duty. What would you write from this prompt? 

If you write your own story, feel free to take it in any direction. That’s the beauty of writing without a plan. Sometimes, your imagination will take you to some interesting places.

While I hope you’re enjoying this podcast, I would really love for you to read my novels and other books. Those are the stories I write with careful planning and countless edits, along with my heart and soul. 

My books span genres but often focus on the inner workings of our minds and the importance of our relationships. They are speculative fiction, grounded in reality, with sci-fi, fantasy, or psychological twists. You can learn more on my website, SusanQuilty.com, or look up “Susan Quilty” wherever you buy books. 

Until next time, try a little free writing of your own. Let go of any planning and see where your imagination takes you. 

[Light piano music]