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In My Head

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Nira groaned as she pushed herself up off the ground, impulsively rubbing her forehead with one hand as if to stave off an absent pain. Red dust swirled around her as the wind howled. She blinked glancing around to see an infinite horizon of red dust covering a landscape dotted by the green of orc corpses strewn about.

“This isn’t draenor…this isn’t real, no no.”

“No it isn’t, this is my little area of your head Nirahsa,” Came Asharin’s voice as she sat upon an solitary rock her yellow eyes gazing upon Nira, watching as the Tinkerer drew her hands closer to her body, “You don’t like it here do you? No no.”

“No no, ..why can’t I leave, wake up, I want to wake up. You shouldn’t be able to-.”

“Put you to sleep, yes? The more you doubt yourself, the more pull I have. If you want to leave, get a hold of yourself.”

“I don’t have time for this, no no there is a battle going on! You could get us killed!” Nira stood up on both hooves as she glared at Asharin.

Her mirror only gave a shrug, “What use were you providing in that fight anyway?”

Nira balled her fingers into fists.

“Anger won’t help, after all…anger is part of who I am Nirahsa. Now I have things to show you, yes yes.”



Nirahsa’s body lay on the bed, motionless except for the rise and fall of her chest every few moments. A blanket laid gently over her. The tinkerer having been brought to her and Dacianna’s shared room within the vindicator’s garrison. Combat medics had found nothing wrong physical or magical with the shaman beyond the inability to rouse her. They hadn't looked into it further for the moment since the shaman didn't appear to be in any immediate danger and more urgent issues had arisen.