Fiction: Only Temporary


A wrapping that once held a Hallow’s End Pumpkin Treat fell from her hands as Ravine shrieked after looking down at herself. Her skin… no, her whole body was as translucent as the waters around Southshore as she stood there in shock and disbelief, hovering inches above the ground. The warlock should’ve known something was amiss when she felt colder than lighter than normal. But, it was difficult to come to terms that she could’ve possibly died from eating a piece of candy. Maybe it was a bad piece of candy, but it looked so harmless…

Standing besides her, with his armor and sword polished to perfection, was the warrior known better as Runes from the mercenary group, Malakim. The two of them had been fending off mischief makers sent by the Forsaken over the past few hours armed only with hand-made air fresheners. (“Keep Southshore clean! Fight the funk of the Forsaken with the power of pine!”) Those foolish enough to make themselves known to the guards were taken down with a little more force, since they proved that they were there for more than just tricks and pranks. The two of them had a measure of success at keeping the town safe (as well as making sure it didn’t stink TOO badly from whatever foul concoctions the undead had brewed into their vials), but Runes could not help but smirk at the irony of her current predicament.

“Try eating another piece of candy?” he shrugged, making a motion as though he was tossing one of the sweet treats into his mouth. “Wouldn’t hurt considering your circumstances,” the warrior chuckled.

Ravine hovered about the area for a few minutes in thought. It didn’t sound like a bad idea, and Runes did have a point. After all, she already was a floating, ghost spirit. It couldn’t get any worse…

“Wait,” the warlock paused as a thought came to mind as she furrowed her brows. “…If I’m a ghost, wouldn’t it just… fall right through?” she frowned.

“Hmm… I never really thought about that.”

Ravine groaned as she slumped forward, feeling all of her hopes getting sucked out of her. So much for that plan. “You have to help me!” her voice wavered as she began to panic. “What.. what if I’m stuck like this?!”

Runes rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm… I guess you do have a bit of a problem with that, being a warlock and all.”

“Erk… Runes!”

The warrior held his hands up in defense to the distressed ghost. “Sorry!  Look… I’m not a priest nor a paladin! Maybe it’ll just… wear off?” Ravine threw her hands into the air in defeat as she sat down, staring at the ground. “Oh dear…” she mumbled. ” What would Savras say about this…?”

“Tell him the candy did it.”

She gave Runes a quizzical look. “… Who made this anyways?”

He shrugged. “Probably gnomes.”

“Erk… maybe I shouldn’t tell him that then…” Having her husband hunting down every last gnome he could find was the last thing she wanted.

Looking around, Runes found no disturbances, which surprised him after the constant number of bombers only hours before. Now, there were no traces of the Horde, and no new stink bombs had made themselves apparent. “Well, at least we taught them a thing or two about playing tricks on the townsfolks, eh?” he grinned. “Looks like things have quieted down,” he muttered as he hefted up his broadsword from where he stuck it in the earth. Bits of soil and grass fell from the blade’s end as he wiped it clean before sheathing it away. “I really should return to Ironforge. Business and all.” He quickly walked off before the warlock had a chance to say anything.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine!” he called out to her as he made his way up the hill towards the flight master. “Worse comes to worse, you can always have a word with the Spirit Healer, right?” he laughed. Ravine gave him a sullen look in response, glowering as she watched him take flight.

With a sigh, she hovered back to her spot on top of the small hill a little ways north of the nearby inn. With Runes gone, there was little else she could do. The other townsfolks opted to stay away from the floating apparition after her outbursts earlier. The thought of haunting and following one of them came to mind, but it wasn’t as if she had a reason to. She looked around lazily until her sight rested on Sergeant Hartman, the one who was responsible for taking charge in keeping the town clean of the funky smell and sending adventurers on reconnaissance near the Undercity, and suddenly felt something just… snapped.

She wasn’t really aware that everyone else around could hear her as she floated over to the ranking officer, but she didn’t seem to care either. “This is… this is your fault! You and your poisoned candy treats you’ve been giving out!” she yelled out, pointing fingers of accusation. “I swear by the Nether that I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days, you hear me?!”

The sergeant seemed hardly phased by this as he looked at the ghostly-looking woman. “I assure you it’s only temporary, miss. Just a little bit of holiday magic,” he said with a smirk which only served to annoy her further. “You…!” Ravine fumed at his lack of concern as she floated circles around the officer who seemed to take little heed in her threats. Instead he pulled out of his pocket, a small watch and stared down at it. “…Should be wearing off soon,” he muttered to himself.

“Is this any way to reward those who helped you clean this place up?!”


“…really should check on the expiration dates on these things…”


“…shouldn’t treat life like a plaything! And furthermore…”


Before Ravine could speak another word, a bellow of smoke suddenly emitted from the warlock. Coughing, she waved her hands about to clear the air, not noticing the effects of the candy wearing off. Curious town members crept closer to the scene. Only the sergeant seemed to have an inkling of what was going on with that smirk still on his face. When the smoke finally cleared, Ravine looked down at her hands and was surprised to find that she was flesh and blood once more, not to mention grounded as well.

“Ah…” It took her only another moment before her face was suddenly flushed in embarrassment. Cripes, she wouldn’t be able to live down overreacting over something like this. “So it… really was only temporary…” she managed to stammer quietly. “Oh dear…”

He looked up, and frowned as the familiar smell of rotten, putrid things filled his nostrils. Turning his head, the familiar orange smoke began to bloom out of the vials of stink bombs. “I’ll ignore those threatening comments if you go out there and clear those out bombs,” he muttered as he handed her a stink bomb cleaner. Ravine didn’t have any room for protest as she reluctantly took the air freshener from his hand.


~ by compassstudies on July 5, 2009.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: