Niviene Larethian

Maternal Instinct

The thing sat limp in the draenei's hand, a gelatinous blob with barbed tentacle that hung like the dripping entrails of a gutted deer. Niviene paled at the sight of it, her fair complexion turning to near parchment white. She moved to stand closer to Bragh, slipping her hand into his, seeking comfort in his strength.

The priestess watched in horrified fascination as Daciana tied the tentacled thing around her head like a bandana; it was all Niviene could do to keep her supper down at the sight. The draenei stood in the center of the group, turning to look at each of them. After a few moments Daci declared every one free of the parasite that took control of the mind of its host. And everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Daci paused in the motion of removing the creature to answer their myriad questions when the thing rose on its eye stalk, turned, and looked directly at Niviene. Its stare bored into her, looking into her very soul. She tried to look away but she felt herself drawn in, unable to move as the creature drew nearer, its one jaundiced eye unblinkingly focused on her.

Niviene tightened her grip, her fingers clutching empty air; Braghaman was no longer at her side. She was in a dark, shifting void that suffocated as it closed around her. In the blackness she heard voices, voice at once familiar and unknown. They called to her in seductive whispers, cajoling, wheedling, but she shook her head vehemently, striving to block them out.

Suddenly the eye stalk stiffened and a great, gaping maw formed, filled with razor edged teeth that dripped with blood and gore. It chattered at her incessantly, moving closer, growing louder.

“You will make a good one for my master.” it cackled, “You are so desperate, so ripe. So ready. Your mind will be his. And then. Then he will take your children.”

Followed closely on its words Niviene could hear Daciana, “Children don’t have the physical or mental fortitude to withstand these creatures. They always die. They always die. They. Always. Die.” and the draenei's words faded as they were drowned out by a chilling, maniacal laughter.

Niviene screamed, struggling through the suffocating blackness, thrashing through the darkness, sitting bolt upright. She was in her bed, sweat soaked and tangled in blankets, Braghaman stirring at her side.

Quietly she stood, donning her pale blue robe before she made her way through the house, checking each door and window, reapplying and strengthening the wards that guarded it. Those things may have made their way here from Boralus but she’d be damned if they would make it into her house. And nothing, not even the old gods, would make it through her to get to her children.