Child of the Night

Wessex can feel her energy dissipating… no, that’s not right. It’s not quite leaking out of her, it’s just… not as potent? Is that what it is? Really, she knows very little about the technicalities of her transformation - what is inside her now, what it does to her. She’d tried to find out as much as she could about the Ascended, but there was very little other than the common lore - can’t be in direct sunlight, practically immune to disease, doesn’t have to eat, sharp teeth, and some superpower-type things. It’s all been true. But this? This waning is peculiar. She doesn’t feel ill. But that jump took more effort. She wasn’t as sprightly come nightfall. It’s like she needs coffee but of course, that won’t do any good. What would her stomach even do if she tries to eat?!? Is there something she missed? So she’s got more than a couple of questions. Time to find some answers. There’s no moon tonight, but she doesn’t need one. The paths are familiar under her feet, leaves alternatively crunching and soggy underneath her feet. She flies lightly through the woods, nimbly darting around twiggy bushes, leaping over stones - almost more deer than person. By the time she reaches the shrine her heart rate is elevated, flyaway wisps of blonde hair framing her face. That she is winded is… not good. The Ascendant slows, coming a halt in the middle of the quiet glade. No one to be seen. Good. Wessex’s head tilts back to gaze at the stars through the break in the canopy. A whole World out there, and here she is, confined to this little bubble. It’s more than a little frustrating. But she swallows the sudden surge of emotion and whispers to the sounds of the night, “I’d pray, but you know I’m not that kind of woman. You already have my soul. My body. So… If you’re out there... Your creation has some questions for you.” Dear Mom and Dad, I'd usually rather die (ha, ha, ha) than ask for it, but... Help? Love, Wessex WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm