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Night Sweats and the Awful Stench of Stormwing - A Quest:;

It was a quiet night. Thankfully, the first in awhile. Usually something was happening with her tripping over the wand, raging at the stench, or it appearing in her bed in the middle of the night. But not anymore. A bit smugly, Nessalyn pulled out the airtight, airless container, where the wand was held suspended. The woman swore that she could see the stench as a haze behind the glass. It was awful lately, it was getting worse by the day.

If she hadn’t had that day with Luciel, or hell, even that run-in with the feral woman Kiv, Ness would have sworn that they were trying to kill her with this thing. But it was a responsibility. A gift, something she was obviously not well suited for. But deserving anyway? She had to think of it that way, or things would never get better. In fact, she might just actively harm someone if she didn’t think about it the right way.

Almost silently, the commander slid the container into the niche she had built into her headboard. She wasn’t sure if the wand was tricky enough to get itself out of the container, but if it did, it wouldn’t go far. Enough mornings with nicked ribs was enough for her, thank you. Smiling a bit, and pulling at her braid, she turned to prepare herself for bed.

This was the most secret part of her daily ritual, one that not even her few lovers had seen her go through. None had spent the night with her, and none probably ever would. They would never see her undo her hair, and sit at her vanity. Humming a rousing battle tune to herself, she brushed her hair in time, 100 strokes to every side. Her foot tapped with the music in her head, and her eyes were dreamy.

It was probably not the conventional daydream, but it was Nessalyn’s. Glory in battle, a shiny ship of her own, things she all had. Things she missed dreadfully since she had been saddled with this ‘gift’. Eventually, her hair shone, thick to her waist and rich with color. She was calm in mind and spirit, and would probably sleep well.

Or so she thought. For as she lay, eyes closed, and brain cruising through the universe on a dream, the wand changed. Or rather, the area around the wand changed. With a ripple of magic, the glass that covered the front of the container vanished, and a fine mist started to appear from the edge. The stench was incredible. Rusty reds mixed with gold, silver, and even a faint brown, swirling around the wand. There were small, steel-edged wings inside the mist, much like the feathers on the edge of the wand, only more refined.

Quietly, almost curiously, the baby ghost swirled around its guardian, resting against her in almost a loving gesture. And Nessalyn dreamed.

It was not a pleasant dream, no not all all. Around her were the strewn bodies of war casualties, mangled horribly. And most were not death wounds. No, they were body cavities that had been ripped open, innards missing. There was blood and fecal matter everywhere, and looked as if someone had smeared it everywhere in glee.

Around the battlefield grotesque creatures hovered, some moving from body to body, spilling open their bodies and taking the innards out, feasting joyously. The steel wings, the black bodies, taloned feet. Beaks that were coated with blood and slime. The smell was familiar, she smelled it daily. The other smell, the awful reek of death was another she was familiar with. But…why was she dreaming this? She wanted out!

In front of her eyes, a female creature rolled in the filth from the body, and from her own excrement. The eyes that looked up at her touched her soul, and a connection was made. But..why? Why?!

With a start, and not quite a scream, Commander Nessalyn Sharthavis shot up in her bed, and the baby ghost went flying, making a puff of stench as it went. She could have sworn she even heard a squeak as it came rushing back at her, and huddled around its wand.

Taking care not to inhale much, she hopped up, and threw open her bedroom window, grateful for the cool early-morning air. Not only was the smell dissipating, but she could see the…what was that? It was certainly no longer just a wand, but neither was it a baby human. Confused, she went over, and tried her best to soothe the quivering little thing, until it wrapped around her arm and settled near her shoulder. It didn’t smell too bad right now, which was a good sign. Maybe the stench was a skunk-like thing, and as long as she was a good girl and was nice, it wouldn’t be too bad.

That was hopeful.

Dressing, and going out to her living room, she remembered her dream. No, her nightmare. What was that about? And why did she feel like she knew that one monster? It was so, so, familiar. Disconcerted, still stroking the now-still ghost, she sat down to her console.

She’d had it transferred from her ship earlier in the week. It was getting unmanageable with just her pocket unit. “Wake. Password: Ilfema.” Her first pet’s name. The only pet she’d ever had before going off to the Academy. One that had drowned. A rememberance. A reminder.

Her mood was decidedly grim this morning. Though after a sweaty nightmare like that, who wouldn’t be sweaty and grim? “Run search. Creatures of war, defacing, defecating on the bodies and rolling in it. Seemed a decidedly medieval battlefield. Earth, 1000 AD, by their reckoning. Perhaps later, but not by more than 300 Earth years. Winged, taloned. Mythical harpies, but much more disgusting.”

Twirling the wand, and rubbing her cheek lightly against the less-smelly-than-before baby ghost, Nessalyn wondered. And worried. What was this about? Was this..was this what her wand was? Those awful creatures that gloried in the death of others? The fear she had felt still lingered on her skin. It was every warrior’s fear. But stronger.

Search Concluded. Results: Nightmares. A response from the brain in the subconscious, triggered by fear. Usually manifested in the REM cycle. Would you like to hear more?

“Nightmare? No. Search fictional entries as well.” That was something that probably the computer would not have thought of. Magical entities were usually written about in works of fiction, but hardly ever entered as fact, or even mythos.

Search Conlcuded. Results: Stormwings. As written by Tamora Pierce, she suggests that this race was created by a woman’s dreams. She dreamed of a creature so horrible that wars would not want to be glorified, or even waged, by men. As a result, from the Cauldron of the Stars came the Stormwings. They feed on the fear of humans, and glory in death. Noble creatures otherwise, they have a strict society. Should I expound?

“No. Save reference and sleep.” Stormwings? Nightmares? How were they related? It mentioned a dream, but why would someone ever dream that? And would her wand turn into something like that? Green eyes lingered on the wheezing ghost asleep on her shoulder. It was actually a very sweet thing.

She needed to talk to someone. Soon.

Sighing, she sat back and tried to think of this in the most positive light possible. What would be something those creatures, no, Stormwings would need in today's world?

A bath? Hah. Not likely, if they gloried in that. Though this little one WOULD bathe. And wear an air freshener. Oh her poor furniture...

Wait.

That would do it! Talons and bird legs did not do well on human furniture, so she would get this little one a perch. Not that she was sure that her child would look exactly like that, but even then, the ghostling could perch on it as well, and have somewhere to curl up.

Other than Nessalyn's arm.

Bringing up the requisitions, she ordered a nice, stout perch. They'd probably ask a question or two, but not many. She was, after all, still a Commander of the Ystevarian Fleet! And no kid would run her off, even with nightmares!

Where was Luciel when you needed her?

Dinner Out - Demetra and Vilia :;

Read Here!

Coming home from a day out, Nessalyn collapsed onto her sofa, almost ripping her braid out. It had been a warm day, and a bit exhausting. Certainly when Villia had scared that group of children and stunk the shop up so badly she was asked to leave was fun.

Really. She enjoyed it almost. Rolling eyes at her thoughts, she flicked the switch that turned on her console. Apparently the people at the Wand Shoppe had an email, and were more than happy to contact her through it. Certainly it was easier than going to see them in person.

The commander rather thought they were afraid of her. Which in turn, made her a bit happier. Not that she liked having others afraid of her. Actually, fear was lesser to respect in every aspect. But a little revenge on her situation was NICE. It was delightful, even!

(( Coming Soon ))