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<dances>
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<dances>
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Shattered Sky, Shattered Mind- Meri short story

Started by Rhonya, January 09, 2021, 05:19:03 PM

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Rhonya

The darkness was absolute. There was nothing. No sounds, no smells, no light. Yet, there was something. A presence. Something there with her. Something approaching slowly, a light touch next to her ear, a brush over her cheek. And softly, a whisper. They had found her once again.

Meri shifted uncomfortably under the think blanket she was hiding under, curled up in a dark corner of the large Horde tent. The furs covered her from head to toe, blocking out all the light. She had retreated into herself for some much needed quiet, but it always found her when she did that. The Voids presence, never long behind as she tried to use it to block some of the chaos going on in her head. She had given in to it a few days ago, hopeful that it might give her some respite, but the scale had tipped too far.
It had taken Nakobu and the Light to bring her back to her usual balance. Something Meri did not want to repeat, because she had seen how much it had hurt him to actually use the Light on her in such a way. How it had shaken his very beliefs. So she pulled back, not giving in to those whispers this time, returning to the here and now.

The rest of the clan didn’t need to know her situation. Not more than they already did, at the very least. Right now she was only a burden, not functioning normally at all, despite her trying very hard. Nakobu had gone outside to discuss other things with the clan. He was still hurt. It wasn’t fair on him either, the fact she couldn’t even support him right now, as she should. He was her mate after all.

Meri slowly rose from the pile of blankets, reaching for the mug of cold water that was never far. Taking a few sips, the normal world came back to her slowly. Noises. Not only the camp around her, but voices. Pleas, cries of pain, despair. It was hard to untangle them into individual things, it was more a current passing by, hearing one thing only to have it whisked away and be replaced by three other voices. She knew they came from around her, and above her. The undead, tortured souls, the strange pressing sensation coming from that broken sky. The flashes, parts of beings ripped apart, but she could never focus fully on them.
It was never ending. This place was chaos.

If only Arkaan could visit her here. Often she held the bone in her hand that he had gifted her, thinking about their earlier talks, the lessons he had given her. The Draenei spirit was bound to Auchindoun however, so calling on him here probably wouldn’t work. If he even heard her through all this noise. Yet, knowing he and Nakobu always had faith in her, gave her some strength.

As she stood up and smoothed out her robe to go in search of some much needed food, she got some odd looks from the Argents passing by. They still didn’t understand. Some had tried to ask, but she send them away. They didn’t need to know either.
Reaching for her bag, she took out some of the dwindling supplies. A few potatoes, carrots, onions and other vegetables. She worked slowly, very slowly, concentrating hard to keep her attention on the preparations instead of getting drowned in everything in her head. It made her so tired…
The knife sliced through the potato easily. As she rose it to cut down again, she gasped. A pang of pain split through her head, making her cut into her finger instead of the potato, blood spreading over her cutting board. She didn’t notice it though.
A flash. Snow, swirling around. She felt Nakobu’s presence, for some reason. But also others of the clan. Echos of voices, worried, shocked. The half-blood calling out to the skies, to the spirits. She could hear him as clearly as if she’d been standing next to him.

Meri sat there, unseeing, eyes unfocused, blood slowly dripping from the cutting board on the ground. One of the Argents Crusade elves moved in her direction and worriedly gave her a shoulder a soft pat. “Miss? You're-.. You’re bleeding.”
No response, at all.
Looking uncertain, the Elf moved away to grab a few supplies to dress Meri’s wound, placing the now ruined food and board to the side, along with the bloody knife. Meri didn’t stir.

A river of souls. Flash. A city in the sky. What is it? Where is it?
Flash. A dwarf, alongside other deathwalkers. It didn’t make any sense.
Flash. Growling, a large, black wolf fighting for his life. Only there a mere second in her minds eye, but the image stuck with her.
Flash. An orc, dying. No, getting devoured, utterly. Next, another. Gone, no trace.

Meri hiccuped, finally snapping out of the trance. The elf was gone by now, her finger neatly bandaged, a soup simmering in her pot on her own small fire, the bloody potatoes cleared away. How long had she been out? What had she seen? They’d only been split second images and they’d come and gone so fast, she couldn’t make any sense of them.
A headache build up behind her eyes, fast and unrelenting, forcing her to hide back under the darkness of the furs in the corner, not too far from her little fire. The light hurt her eyes.
She heard others coming in eventually, but she didn’t move from her hiding spot. Meri couldn’t focus on the voices anyway, they all blurred together with the screams.

How long would she hold out, like this…? Meri didn’t know. But she wasn’t leaving. That was for certain.

"For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack."