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The Mirror Considers

Nirahsa's picture

Blood red clouds swirled around like an inky mist, kicking up even more red dust from the ground. Which trembled from the green orcs stampeding in a blood lust, the curdled screams of draenei being slaughtered resonating from all directions.

But it was just a memory.

Asharin frowned sitting on a rock as the turmoil boiled around her, these long dead memories only served to anger her, she felt no fear from these monsters.

Nirahsa however did feel fear, fear of the orcs, fear of herself.

“Fear of me,” Asharin spoke softly, as she resided deep within Nira’s subconscious by herself. Before Vasily had helped Nira make a connection with her, Asharin had taken great delight in the fear she provoked in Nira. Now however it troubled her, as now Nira wasn’t so much afraid of her taking over as she was of outright becoming her. It caused her to second guess her own feelings constantly and draw assumptions about herself that were far from the truth.

Asharin actually wanted to help, but didn’t know how. She wasn’t a kind calming individual, she might have more empathy now than before but all she could do is tell Nira she wasn’t like her while ending up saying something snide on impulse.

She had briefly debated helping show Nira some of the good memories that were still buried deep in her mind, but what worried her is that could open the gates to the other memories that, were not so good. And more pain was the last thing Asharin wanted to bring Nira, she already caused enough pain by her mere coexistence with the shaman.


An orc suddenly charged at Asharin letting out a raging battle cry, to which Asharin merely batted a hand sending the beast flying backwards while letting out a long sigh, “There has to be something that can be done.”