The Torrent of Ice and Static
The Following Writ contains one instance where the implications of sexual assault are very apparent. For this reason, reader discretion is advised.
"Mistress. The guards have spotted Sethraki ships off the island's southern shore."
Sorvegosa’s eyes shot open, glancing around frantically at the glacial cave she resided in. The gentile blue glow of her enchanted lights brightened at her stir, illuminating the few treasures she kept within. Her familiar’s words filled her with dread. She hoped. She prayed that the Sand's Fury would have eventually thought better of their treck and turned back before they even arrived. However, it seems her hope was a distant one after all.
No time to waste. She hissed and reached a talon up to her neck to run it against her scales, searching for one that was loose enough to pull. One was, about halfway up, before her head would arc forward. With delicate precision, she wedged her thumb between it and grasped it between it and her index claw. 3... 2... 1...
Her nerves screamed as the base of the scale was torn directly from her hide... not ready yet to molt yet, it seemed. Good. That means it contained more power. The warm, crimson liquid began to trickle down her neck, inciting a disgusted hiss from her snarling maw. This was necessary though. Necessary, if her plan was going to work. If the psychological games she was going to play were to make any strides. She growled low as she looked ahead. To her armory now.
It didn't take her long to get there. Despite the size of her realm, her wings took her where she needed to go with haste. Gently, she landed within the cave her bag was linked too. She would not examine her hoard today. She would not measure her gold or take inventory of her items. There was no time for that. With purpose, she instead grabbed only what she needed. The Sethraki staff. It's enchantment may be "outdated" now, but it's amplification abilities would still come in handy to her. Her brother's sword, her one and only connection to him that remained. She silently thought over it, over him, and wished for his strength.
With haste she gathered many of the spell components she thought she’d need. Geodes for gravitational magic. Shards of leylight to restore her mana reserves if they stooped low. Various vials and wires made of ground silver and gold for focus, gemstones to enhance arcane matrices, and lastly... What was left?
Her eyes turned toward the back of her cave. At the wall of ice she created unnaturally... and the memory contained within. A gentle blue glow faded into being, showing--though foggy--the unmistakable silver and blue articulated plates of Nexus armor. Armor… she huffed amusedly at that. It was more like shackles. Just the thought of it’s presence upon her body now tied her stomach in knots. She turned away, dismissing it like she’d done many times before, shoving it back to be forgotten with the rest of her memories of that accursed time.
Then why do you keep it?
Her muscles ceased in their motions, the sickening, nauseating anxiety of hesitation churning in her stomach, and choking her throat.
If it’s so disgusting to you, why do you keep it? Why do you torture yourself like this? You cling to it like you still need it, like it’s your last haunch of meat during a time when you are starving. Why do you keep it?
She closed her eyes and snarled. War was upon them. Her scales weren’t as thick as others, and she herself was never a fighter. She needed all the extra protection she could get, even as a dragon. The resources to do so were right there in her grasp. She need only break the ice, and don it. Why not do it? Her mind traveled back to a time when she was helpless. When the runes subjugated her mind and paralyzed her body. All the times she was taken advantage of, all the whelps she birthed and taught in beliefs she abhorrently disagreed with. The choice, the control, that was ripped from her practically overnight. And through it all, the only two things that were consistent was the horrific oppression of fear, and that fucking armor. That cold, hard, series of runed metal plates that lined her spine and crushed her belly. All the fear… it came to her again. All the shame, it came to her again.
Hesitating again? You realize the island is under attack right? Fear… it rules you, you know. Your past still holds you back. You are weak.
My past is who I am. It’s what made me how I am today. I’ve risen above my trials and tribulations. This armor is a symbol of my perseverance.
Are you really free, though? That armor will give you an advantage… and yet here you are, paralyzed again. Not by magic, but by your own emotions. You are still shackled.
I am free. I am a Matron. I am an Archmage. I am a Dragon!
Then show me. Show us, yourself. Don. The. Armor. If it is really a symbol of your perseverance, then stop looking at it like you did yourself when you were forced to present your womb for violation. Wear it with pride and use it to mark your strength and your cunning. You are not just a dragon. You are a spellweaver. A cunning mind with much to offer! Start acting like it! Show them what you’ve overcome! Show them that you are Sorvegosa, the Blue Matron of Obsidian’s call! Show them why the Titans named you a protectorate of Azeroth!
She took one step away, her head already glancing out the cave.
I will not be controlled anymore...
There was a moment of silence. A battle of emotions raging within her own mind, with sides that were unclear and fuzzy the longer the battle raged. Two sides clashed, colors merging into one as crimson and azure flooded the field with the purple light of raw arcane energy. She could hardly make sense of it all. She didn’t know how, she didn’t know why, but she found her tail curling back. Perhaps this was a mistake… but now was not the time.
The club of her tail tore through the wall of glacial ice, shattering it to pieces. The cave rumbled and shook as much of it’s support was so violently undermined. Her armor clanked to the floor and fell against her legs. It was time… time to show the world what she was really worth.