Wallaroo’s Journal: Westgarde

Wallaroo lay on the bed, curled up in sleep. Stirring, slightly, as dawn approached, and the soft, cool air of Westgarde blew in. 

Her dreams had been odd. Half remembered, voiceless, and all but sightless, vague images that drifted across her vision as she drifted through sleep. They were not the sharp, cruel images of months ago, or the ones that had slowly softened since then. These were…peaceful, and she could not determine why. The night before had been…

Chaos.

She jerked awake, eyes wide, grasping at the sheet in a kneejerk motion of sudden fear. Then stopped, breathed, and looked at the blue sky and the hints of spring in the landscape beyond the window. Was she afraid? She breathed again. Calmer now, to her amazement. Yes, there had been chaos. Violence, and fear, and fighting, and yet she had survived. She had escaped.

Wei took another breath. She had *escaped*. She hadn’t been sure of her ability when Zen put the call out, but it had been so long, and things had gotten bad lately. Very bad. What with the creature pursuing Konse, and now this man Sielic returning, she felt she had to contribute. She hadn’t been able to when the base was under attack, hiding in Stormwind, and that was beginning to hurt. The panda looked down at her wrists, repressing the urge to twist and fidget with them as she did. 

Was she afraid of fighting? Maybe…maybe not. So she had gone with Zen, and the others, and oh, that feeling was so good when she saw Kory and Murdhoc and the others standing alongside her. Helping each other, Kory’s kind words of support, and Murdhoc’s strength, and the others working as a well oiled team. She smiled. There had been a moment of panic, when she crossed the threshold into Outlands, but then…but then it was all okay. She’d been surprised by the relief she felt. She wasn’t useless. She could strike, and she could kick, and she didn’t let the team down. She wasn’t afraid of recapture, or afraid of losing her will, of weeping and weakness. The Rose was there, and she would be fine.

Then the creature had grabbed her… it was a different kind of horror, overwhelming and overpowering. She couldn’t move, she could barely think. In an instant, all those fears, all the struggle, seemed for nothing. The tendrils were curling their way into her mind. Powerless…

Then light. Strong, beautiful light, tearing and twisting at the darkness. At first she felt like weeping again, about giving in, because she had been caught, and they were rescuing her again. The whispers kept plagueing her, dragging her back, and the light would surge, again. And again. And she thought…no. This time I won’t be useless. I won’t let myself be afraid. Even if I cannot escape. I. Won’t Be. Afraid.

And then the light overwhelmed the creature. Overwhelmed her, and she was lost in a different kind of glory. She could fight. And she did.

She looked down at her hands again. She had fought. She had risen in the midst of despair, and had not failed her comrades. They had helped her, and she had stood beside them, and then afterwards, in the shock, they had guided her home. 

Wei smiled, quietly, and brushed a few tears from her face. They had guided her home. She had been to darkness again and had come back, if not whole, then stronger then before. She was tired, still, and despite her best wishes the weariness began to overtake her again. She had drawn upon more power, had used a long buried rage, and the effects still lingered. Her head returned to the pillow, and the soft, gentle dreams did not return.

Her sleep was dreamless and deep and good.