((Co-written with Priann, with gratitude. All mistakes are my own))
Jon Chess sat on a soft blanket in a quiet, wooded section of the Stormwind outskirts. His eyes were closed, was doing his best to calm his mind, which was overcharged with anxiety and fear - his mind imagined Defias bandits behind every tree, Blackrock orc spies, and - in honor of the Noblegarten season - red-teethed carnivorous Worgen-cursed bunny rabbits.
He could feel what ordinarily would be a pleasant sensation - a pretty woman snuggled up behind him, all of her attention on him. Unfortunately, nothing about Jonathan was normal any longer, not even that aberrant state he used to think of as "normal".
Her name was Priann, and she was a Priestess of the Light attached to the Stormwind Cathedral. She had run across Chess near the Blue Recluse while he had leaned against the wall Walking with his wounds - broken ribs, dislocated knee, and knife cuts - while his torso was a mass of discolored bruises had been exhausting and he had needed to take a short rest before continuing.
She had channeled the Light, healing his visible wounds. Later, she had discovered that his wounds were not merely physical; the Dark Lady had broken his mind, and had amused herself by playing with Chess' mind like a piano for her sadistic amusement. She had just been starting to rebuild Chess as a weapon when someone had rescued Chess from his imprisonment and her depredations.
Priann had tried something Jon had never heard of before; in the Cathedral after hearing Jon's confession, she had entered Jon's mind - not deep enough to read and assess the chaos of his thoughts, but enough that she could channel and infuse Jon with happy thoughts of optimism and contentment. Priann herself was good-natured and sweet-tempered, and her emotional resonance had provided Jon with the first hope he had experienced since his return.
Today she would go deeper, and the idea was terrifying him, but he needed to do something. The sight of Ren'dorei - even dear Lynesia - continued to fill him with rage, but he had so far managed to keep himself under control. It had been two weeks since he had been able to sleep, and his control was slipping. He would not allow himself to be made into a weapon against the Ren'dorei - he would not. They'd find him face-down in the canals first.
He could feel Priann rubbing his back and shoulders, to try and get him to a more relaxed state.
"Relax, Jon. I promise everything will be okay," she said.
Jon Chess noded. "Working on it..." he murmured.
"Focus on your breathing. In....and out. Nice and steady, okay?" she instructed.
"Sorry... I haven't had my... medicine today." Jon informed.
"You take medicine?"
"The addiction."
Priann flushed, feeling shame. She had forgotten that his captors had addicted him to the drug Sa'Diablo as part of their torture. Priann closed her own eyes for a moment, her thumbs making small circles across the top of his back. She began to focus the power of the Light through her hands. Her fingers moved up the back of his neck, slowly spreading a warm and tingly sensation.
She opened her eyes, but could not see; her mind had turned inwards to the chaotic battlefield which was Jon Chess' psyche. She summoned her will and tried to pervade his thoughts with a calming presence like she had before. She went deeper this time, and could feel the foul Fel influences of the Sa'Diablo, like a corrupting green overlay. She felt strains of Darkness as well; Jon had told her he was a practitioner of the Shadow magics of the Arakkoa, using its power for concealment and evasion in the Broken Isles. Deeper still she went, slowly and with the utmost care.
She felt Jon relax slightly beneath her hands. Slowly, carefully Priann began to weave threads together within him - tendrils of Light, visions of protection, reassuring visions of the Naaru and other angelic beings besting dark faceless foes. She felt him relax even more - Jon's faith in the Light was a strong core within him.
Deeper. She needed to go deeper, to find the cause of his suffering.
She was aware that Jon had begun to tremble with fear and rage as she caught glimpses of the war within his subconscious mind. Images, sounds, tastes all assembled in a chaotic melange - flashes of the torture he had endured, images of Worgen slaughtering civilians in Pyrewood, the Dark Lady playing his negative emotional scale like a piano, linking violence and death to love and affection. She became aware of just how finely balanced on an edge of a knife he was; how the scent and touch of a Ren'doeri woman - his lover? - inspired both tender care and an unreasoning impulse to violent rampage. Jon Chess mind was filled with violent impulses barely suppressed, a constant barrage of savagery kept in check by will alone.
Priann strengthened her resolve, becoming an apparition of a white and blue, like a Light-infused Valkyra shieldmaiden. Light battled the Fel influences, and she felt for a moment that she might stumble before its relentless power, but she withstood it until it fell back before the Light. She saw that the Light had been augmented by some new power, a golden influence strangely familiar to her. She followed it back to more memories, deeply suppressed by Chess' mind. She saw a short woman with pale skin and bright red hair arranged in matted ropes change into a red-furred Worgen shape, her muzzle splattered with white freckles. Her pelt looked short and smooth, and Priann thought that it might feel of velvet to the touch.
Priann watched as the woman invaded an underground catacomb, fighting with the guardians who sought to deny her entrance. The Worgen seemed to flow like liquid between panther, bear, and Worgen forms, her paws extracting a bloody price upon those who stood guard against her intrusion. She saw her burst a prison cell door asunder, and remove Jon's naked, broken form. She watched as she bore his body away, taking the form of a raven. Jon had not seemed conscious - Priann assumed that between his fear or Worgen and the hallucinogenic properties of Sa'Diablo, his mind had buried it deep as a waking nightmare he didn't need.
A druid. Jon Chess had been rescued by a Worgen druid.
Priann felt herself withdrawing from Jon Chess' mindscape; she was nearing the end of her strength, and while the damage to Jon was not undone, Priann felt she had lessened the grip of both the damage and the addiction of the Sa'Diablo drug. Perhaps now Jon would be able to sleep.
She hoped so.
Jon Chess sat on a soft blanket in a quiet, wooded section of the Stormwind outskirts. His eyes were closed, was doing his best to calm his mind, which was overcharged with anxiety and fear - his mind imagined Defias bandits behind every tree, Blackrock orc spies, and - in honor of the Noblegarten season - red-teethed carnivorous Worgen-cursed bunny rabbits.
He could feel what ordinarily would be a pleasant sensation - a pretty woman snuggled up behind him, all of her attention on him. Unfortunately, nothing about Jonathan was normal any longer, not even that aberrant state he used to think of as "normal".
Her name was Priann, and she was a Priestess of the Light attached to the Stormwind Cathedral. She had run across Chess near the Blue Recluse while he had leaned against the wall Walking with his wounds - broken ribs, dislocated knee, and knife cuts - while his torso was a mass of discolored bruises had been exhausting and he had needed to take a short rest before continuing.
She had channeled the Light, healing his visible wounds. Later, she had discovered that his wounds were not merely physical; the Dark Lady had broken his mind, and had amused herself by playing with Chess' mind like a piano for her sadistic amusement. She had just been starting to rebuild Chess as a weapon when someone had rescued Chess from his imprisonment and her depredations.
Priann had tried something Jon had never heard of before; in the Cathedral after hearing Jon's confession, she had entered Jon's mind - not deep enough to read and assess the chaos of his thoughts, but enough that she could channel and infuse Jon with happy thoughts of optimism and contentment. Priann herself was good-natured and sweet-tempered, and her emotional resonance had provided Jon with the first hope he had experienced since his return.
Today she would go deeper, and the idea was terrifying him, but he needed to do something. The sight of Ren'dorei - even dear Lynesia - continued to fill him with rage, but he had so far managed to keep himself under control. It had been two weeks since he had been able to sleep, and his control was slipping. He would not allow himself to be made into a weapon against the Ren'dorei - he would not. They'd find him face-down in the canals first.
He could feel Priann rubbing his back and shoulders, to try and get him to a more relaxed state.
"Relax, Jon. I promise everything will be okay," she said.
Jon Chess noded. "Working on it..." he murmured.
"Focus on your breathing. In....and out. Nice and steady, okay?" she instructed.
"Sorry... I haven't had my... medicine today." Jon informed.
"You take medicine?"
"The addiction."
Priann flushed, feeling shame. She had forgotten that his captors had addicted him to the drug Sa'Diablo as part of their torture. Priann closed her own eyes for a moment, her thumbs making small circles across the top of his back. She began to focus the power of the Light through her hands. Her fingers moved up the back of his neck, slowly spreading a warm and tingly sensation.
She opened her eyes, but could not see; her mind had turned inwards to the chaotic battlefield which was Jon Chess' psyche. She summoned her will and tried to pervade his thoughts with a calming presence like she had before. She went deeper this time, and could feel the foul Fel influences of the Sa'Diablo, like a corrupting green overlay. She felt strains of Darkness as well; Jon had told her he was a practitioner of the Shadow magics of the Arakkoa, using its power for concealment and evasion in the Broken Isles. Deeper still she went, slowly and with the utmost care.
She felt Jon relax slightly beneath her hands. Slowly, carefully Priann began to weave threads together within him - tendrils of Light, visions of protection, reassuring visions of the Naaru and other angelic beings besting dark faceless foes. She felt him relax even more - Jon's faith in the Light was a strong core within him.
Deeper. She needed to go deeper, to find the cause of his suffering.
She was aware that Jon had begun to tremble with fear and rage as she caught glimpses of the war within his subconscious mind. Images, sounds, tastes all assembled in a chaotic melange - flashes of the torture he had endured, images of Worgen slaughtering civilians in Pyrewood, the Dark Lady playing his negative emotional scale like a piano, linking violence and death to love and affection. She became aware of just how finely balanced on an edge of a knife he was; how the scent and touch of a Ren'doeri woman - his lover? - inspired both tender care and an unreasoning impulse to violent rampage. Jon Chess mind was filled with violent impulses barely suppressed, a constant barrage of savagery kept in check by will alone.
Priann strengthened her resolve, becoming an apparition of a white and blue, like a Light-infused Valkyra shieldmaiden. Light battled the Fel influences, and she felt for a moment that she might stumble before its relentless power, but she withstood it until it fell back before the Light. She saw that the Light had been augmented by some new power, a golden influence strangely familiar to her. She followed it back to more memories, deeply suppressed by Chess' mind. She saw a short woman with pale skin and bright red hair arranged in matted ropes change into a red-furred Worgen shape, her muzzle splattered with white freckles. Her pelt looked short and smooth, and Priann thought that it might feel of velvet to the touch.
Priann watched as the woman invaded an underground catacomb, fighting with the guardians who sought to deny her entrance. The Worgen seemed to flow like liquid between panther, bear, and Worgen forms, her paws extracting a bloody price upon those who stood guard against her intrusion. She saw her burst a prison cell door asunder, and remove Jon's naked, broken form. She watched as she bore his body away, taking the form of a raven. Jon had not seemed conscious - Priann assumed that between his fear or Worgen and the hallucinogenic properties of Sa'Diablo, his mind had buried it deep as a waking nightmare he didn't need.
A druid. Jon Chess had been rescued by a Worgen druid.
Priann felt herself withdrawing from Jon Chess' mindscape; she was nearing the end of her strength, and while the damage to Jon was not undone, Priann felt she had lessened the grip of both the damage and the addiction of the Sa'Diablo drug. Perhaps now Jon would be able to sleep.
She hoped so.
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