Ancient’s Pet Tales Contest
So it appears Matty inspired more than just me! She posted a wonderful little story about Mrs. Whitworth that I thoroughly enjoyed. In response, I posted an idea for a Shared Topic, and then Ancient posted about a contest for a story of the exact same kind!
Basically, a story for one of your battle pets.
I would much rather write this for Ancient than myself. So here you go!
There was only one pet I could think of in regards to this, right off the bat. Xarzith has been Effy’s constant companion since I “saved” her in Azshara at the end of Wrath. She was the only pet I was truly excited about the chance to be able to name when I started playing Mists. But I realize that I have always been painfully vague about poor Xarzith’s origins.
All I have ever said on the matter is Effy rescued her some several months prior to the start of my Descending Twilight series.
But what did Effy rescue her from? And where?
P.S. = Have I mentioned how much I love dragons?
Awareness came in the dark.
It was unchanging and therefore gave no measure of time between when she realized she was and when things changed. All she knew was the darkness. It was warm and made her sleepy. She slept a lot.
When she slept, she dreamt in colors.
Mostly, she dreamt in hues of blue, ranging from so light it was almost white to a deep blue that was close to but not black. The blue was comforting, familiar. It felt almost like herself. She stayed nearest the blue.
Some of the colors were yellow and red and green. They felt similar to the blue, but not. She was not as drawn to the other colors. Some were even black. She instinctively knew the black was dangerous. It was somehow darker than the darkness that enveloped her.
The colors all hinted toward something greater, other sentient beings full of knowledge, but she could not figure out how to reach the colors to learn more.
Rather than fight or fuss, she instead left herself to drift. She instinctively knew when something important happened, she would know.
Occasionally muffled somethings would come to her, from somewhere else. Sometimes there was a sense of movement that was not her moving. But since none of it affected her or changed the darkness that was her where, it was quickly forgotten. It hardly interrupted her sleep.
Then, all at once there was an abrupt feeling of change. Along with the subconscious feeling, it became warmer, almost too warm, stifling. The feeling woke her, and she became more aware of the sounds and movement of the elsewhere. Something was happening. She knew it without knowing how.
It was time to leave.
A voice that spoke no words called to her.
For the first time since becoming aware, she felt anxious and hurried. She wanted to follow the voice, but she did not know where it was, or how to get there from here.
So she went in the first direction that seemed right.
It was not long before she met resistance to her path. She panicked, her anxiety growing. How would she reach the non-voice? But the non-voice was still there and its presence calmed her. It continued to call to her.
She fought against the resistance.
With a sharp crack, the resistance gave away a little. The darkness that was her where tore open, and a small spot of light appeared. It startled her eyes. The light was new, and that made it both fascinating and frightening.
The non-voice coaxing her onward mingled with a physical voice that uttered a short surprised noise. Somehow, she knew the non-voice and the voice were the same. It did not really make sense to her, but only her instincts guided her now.
Pushing the rest of the way through the tear proved harder than she expected, and took what seemed a long time even after her timeless waiting. She was eager to place the voice that called to her. She was eager to end her solidarity.
She squawked a note of displeasure at the resisting edge of her somewhere.
The voice came again, a low, soothing purr. She paused her struggle, and cocked her head curiously. She hoped the comforting voice would speak again, although she did not know the words. It was a pleasant noise after the silence of the darkness.
Something that was unknown to her, something that was not the edges of her dark somewhere, brushed against her. She squawked again, this time softer.
Her struggle renewed. Her resistance was diminishing. Her head and front limbs were free. This made her think to search out the voice.
She opened her eyes.
The brightness of the new somewhere struck her eyes so that it offended all her senses, after being so long in the darkness. It was only after much blinking and more noises of annoyance that she was able to focus.
Before her was something that reminded her of her dreams – a being of blue. It was like the dream-beings which had been like her but not her. Unlike the dream-beings, this something was easy to focus on. This something was almost close enough to touch.
It watched her.
She squawked again. This time the noise tried to form a word. It was a word she had found in her dreams, though it had held no meaning for her in that time and that where.
“Odassa!” she cried.
It was what the smaller colors had purred to the larger ones. Something that protected. Something… family? She was not quite sure what that word meant when it came to her, but the thought of it made her feel safe.
Her memories were indeed larger than herself.
The being that was not a dream and not from the darkness blinked in surprise. She realized the being had understood. For when she cried out, fully in her mind had been a picture taken from her dreams. Now she saw the responding thought in the other’s mind – her embraced by the being.
Then, the being did just that, brought her closer to itself. The being was warm. The warmth and closeness made her sleepy again. Escaping the darkness had taken much energy.
Awkwardly, on limbs that had never supported her before, she left the remnants of her former where. The darkness that was now split open. The darkness that was already removed from her. She felt no more attachment to it. The darkness held no more importance.
This being was what was important to her now.
She climbed her being’s closest limb – “arm” came into her mind from her being. Her muscles became steadier with each step. Then, she stepped to a recessed part below her being’s face – “neck” came again and again she added this to her growing knowledge.
A great yawn escaped her. The sleepiness was winning out over learning more. There would be time later. She knew she was safe, every thought from her being’s mind reinforced it.
She curled herself around her being’s neck, pressing as much of her body against the warmth there as she could.
Then, she slept. Only now, the passage of time had become important.
It turned out more abstract than I originally intended. I thought to include a substantial second section from Effy’s point of view, but I liked it as it was too much. I hope you enjoyed it!
Ancient, this one is for you, though, I apologize there are no dogs.
Moby – In This World
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This story is based on worlds and characters in World of Warcraft.
Awaiting the Muse by Jamie Roman AKA Effraeti is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at http://awaitingthemuse.wordpress.com/.