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The Teacher Returns

“You there, in the courtyard! I beseech your help!”

 

Halvor turned his large head towards the pleading voice of an old pandaren, and he recognized the speaker as none other than Lorewalker Stonestep. The man was distraught, and his hands shook feverishly as he jogged over to the vrykul.

 

“Yes, friend panda. What can we do?”

 

“My sacred library has become possessed by a powerful creature! I do not know what it is, only that it shines like a bright star in the black of night and laughs with the terrifying chill of the Sha itself!”

 

This description evoked a painfully familiar image in the mind of the warrior, who raised a thick eyebrow at the Lorewalker.

 

“Bright star, you say? We will come look.” Halvor led the party down the corridor to the south wing, the area known as the Scrollkeeper’s Sanctum. They climbed the stairs, passing by a hall light and a brazier as a glowing light steadily pulsed with greater and greater strength, illuminating tens upon hundreds of books and scrolls lining the walls and shelves. Halvor was the first to walk through the archway leading to the second floor of the Sanctum and cried out in horror when he recognized the round being of light cackling at the center of the library.

 

“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!”

 

With each shout, Halvor took one giant stride and crushed several lesser sha beneath his oversized boots. As he ran around the second floor and down the steps to the first, his traveling companions emerged from the archway, struggling to catch up to the warrior’s long strides. Tolkar peered out over the railing, and his heart sank as he, too, recognized the being. It could be none other than—

 

“The Teacher!” Mori exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy, “It’s the Teacher!”

 

Mori picked up her robe and ran down the stairs, out of breath by the time she reached the bottom, where she found Halvor glaring intensely at the bright being of knowledge. The Teacher seemed larger than she remembered, and she was sure his aura was a little brighter, too.

 

“Hi Teacher! Look at my undead! I’ve got three and I summoned them myself!” Mori pointed at the creatures who had followed her across the rafters and down the stairs.

 

The Teacher’s focus shifted away from Halvor, and Mori felt the essence of the being wrapping itself around her warmly.

 

“Well done, my pupil,” The Teacher finally spoke, his voice deeper and more reverberant than the last time he had been uncontained. “you have been performing your studies well. You will become a great necromancer soon, I am certain.”

 

Mori beamed with pride at the Teacher’s praise. It was not often she was congratulated for her hard work, and she cherished the encouragement.

 

Meechi and Tolkar descended the steps and stood next to Halvor, who was still visibly agitated by the presence of the Teacher. His large hands trembled as he held a fragment of what had once been the urn used to contain the powerful being of light. The vulpera looked up at the vrykul and then at the Teacher.

 

“What is this?” she asked.

 

The Teacher replied with elegance, “I am a being of knowledge.”

 

“Why?”

 

“My knowledge is only for the worthy. I seek out those who are deserving of that which I have to teach.”

 

“But why?”

 

“I do not reveal my intentions.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“SILENCE, FOOL!”

 

Meechi’s inquisitive nature had snapped the Teacher’s patience. A beam sprang up from the being of light and struck the vulpera accurately on the forehead. She stumbled from the impact and struggled to get back up to her feet. Tolkar looked anxiously at Meechi, then the Teacher, and finally placed two totems in front of him. Combat was imminent.

 

Sahtra had joined the group on the first floor and stood next to Mori, his axe held out in front of him in preparation to attack. Mori looked up at Sahtra and whispered with excitement, “This is that being in the urn that taught me how to perform the Ritual.” Her green eyes sparkled, accentuated by the reflection of the Teacher's bright aura in them.

 

“Yes,” replied Sahtra, “and it must now be defeated.”

 

Mori’s eyes widened in fear.

 

“But why?! What if he has more to teach me? He won’t be able to—”

 

“This being you call the Teacher is dangerous and a threat. There will be others along the way who can teach you, do not worry.”

 

Mori looked down at the tile floor and muttered to herself, “But I don’t know anyone.”

 

The death knight knelt in front of Mori and looked her in the eye.

 

“The mogu of Pandaria have much knowledge of ancient necromantic magic. I will beat one to their knees if I must so that they may teach you what you need to learn.” Sahtra stood back up and returned his attention to the Teacher. Mori took out her blood elven wand and gripped it tightly. Was this the right thing to do? she asked herself. Sahtra sensed her tension and turned to her with a smile.

 

“It will be okay, little one.”

 

No. She couldn't bring herself to do it. Mori held the wand up to the death knight.

 

“Here, take this.”

 

Sahtra looked at her with confusion.

 

“What am I supposed to do with this little thing?”

 

“This is a special blood elven wand,” Mori explained. Tears welled up in her bright green eyes. “It will help you kill the Teacher. He is weak to arcane magic but I…I can’t hurt him. He has taught me so much.”

 

The tears now streamed down her cheeks as she looked imploringly at the death knight. Sahtra took the arcane wand and cautioned the young blood elf.

 

“Then go,” he told her, “Move up the stairs and back onto the balcony, where you are safe from the fighting.”

 

Mori nodded and, grabbing her robe, ran back up the stairs and onto the second floor. She stood at the railing, accompanied by her three undead summons. I can’t hurt the Teacher, she reassured herself, he was kind to me.

 

A surge of light rose from the being and found Mori, the impact immobilizing her. Mori’s eyes widened in shock. Why? Why me? The voice of the Teacher echoed in her ears.

 

“Rest, my pupil. You do not need to witness that battle that is about to come.”

 

The blood elf understood. Mori’s vision went black as she fell onto the carpet, arms outstretched. She would not get to say her farewell.

 

“Very well, mortals, it has come to this,” the Teacher spoke. “Let the battle begin.”

 

Halvor looked down at Meechi.

 

“Okay, little fox friend. I have idea. You come up with way to fix vase while I collect all the pieces. This sounds good, yes?”

 

The vulpera nodded enthusiastically. “He hit me!” she exclaimed. “That’s not cool!”

 

Halvor dodged bolts of light from the Teacher as he dashed across the first floor of the Sanctum, searching for all the pieces of the urn. The others were tasked with diminishing the Teacher’s power and weakening him to a form where he could be once again contained.

 

The tauren walked over to the death knight, who was still holding the small blood elven wand in one hand.

 

“This arcane wand was a powerful tool in our previous encounter with the Teacher,” spoke Tolkar to Sahtra, “I am thankful that young Mori entrusted you to it.” The shaman held his arm out and cast a glowing aura around the death knight.

 

“What are you doing?” demanded Sahtra.

 

“I am empowering the wand and granting you additional resilience,” replied the tauren. “I pray to the elements that you will be the key to a swift victory over this evil being.”

 

The death knight pointed the wand at the Teacher, who recoiled from the blow as arcane energy tore into his very core. Sahtra lashed out twice more at the being of light as it groaned in agony. Its golden glow flickered for a brief moment then continued to shine steadily.

 

An impressive weapon, Sahtra thought to himself, it does not suit me, but I will use any means necessary to destroy the enemy. The death knight continued to blast the Teacher with the power from the arcane wand.

 

Meanwhile, the alchemist had devised a concoction to weaken the being of light. Meechi took the oil bomb she had constructed and threw it into the core of the Teacher.

 

“Take that, you bully!” she exclaimed as the bomb exploded, droplets of grease scattering throughout the being of light and slowly vaporizing into smaller droplets. The vulpera quickly followed up with a primed fire bomb that ignited the oil and set the Teacher ablaze. Flames intermingled with the pulsing glow of the light and were absorbed into its essence. The Teacher gathered his power and chanted in Thalassian.

 

Anar’alah belore!” By the light of the sun, in Thalassian.

 

A circle of flames formed around Meechi, Tolkar, and Sahtra as the being of light retaliated. The scorching rays darkened the tips of their clothing and teased their skin with pricks that felt like needles. The Teacher subsequently turned his attention to Halvor, who was still gathering the bits of the urn that had previously been shattered.

 

“Enough!” the Teacher bellowed, “You will grovel before me!”

 

The being of light roared in laughter as the massive vrykul dropped the pieces of the urn he had been holding and fell to his knees, begging to be saved from his misery.

 

“That should keep you occupied,” grunted the Teacher, “until I am ready to finish you myself.”

 

Meechi crafted a greater healing potion to alleviate the wounds from the flames as Tolkar hurled a lightning bolt at the Teacher. This blow distracted the being of light as he lost control over Halvor, who took advantage of the being’s prone state to land a hard blow with his longsword. The Teacher growled as the sharp blade cut through his aura.

 

The shaman cast another lightning bolt as Halvor picked the pieces of the urn back up and gave them to the alchemist. Meechi held the urn between her hands and focused on the broken shards. She had broken a glass potion bottle on many occasions and thus had come up with her own formula of fixing broken objects. Meechi simply had to analyze the structure of the fragments and put the pieces back together.

 

“I’ve got it!” the vulpera exclaimed, “Here you go, Mr. Big Guy! It’s finished!”

 

The Teacher’s voice boomed through the Sanctum as he was consumed with rage.

 

“No! I will not be confined again! I gather the strength…TO PREVAIL!”

 

The being of light pulsed for a few moments then glowed at an intensity higher than before. The tauren’s face fell as he realized what had happened.

 

“The Teacher has healed himself for a part of the damage we inflicted on it,” he explained, “but we can still defeat it if we act quickly.” He motioned at the death knight. “Hurry, Sahtra. Strike the enemy!”

 

The death knight didn’t have the time to express his displeasure at being given orders. He staggered his attacks with the arcane wand with the lightning bolts from Tolkar and the thrusts of the longsword from Halvor. After several rounds of fire, the Teacher let out a groan and began to flicker.

 

“Now,” the shaman called out, “Finish it!”

 

Sahtra struck out one last time with the arcane wand as its energy overwhelmed the Teacher. With a sharp cry, the being of light exploded into patterns of all colors of light and finally shrank down into the size of the death knight’s fist. The human held the once-powerful being of knowledge easily in his palm and grinned. It felt...oh so satisfying to bring those who considered themselves greater to their knees. Sahtra placed the small ball of light inside the newly reconstructed urn and handed it to Tolkar, who performed the sealing ritual.

 

“Big light bulb will not bother us anymore,” spoke Halvor, “I am glad it is over.”

 

“Only this fight, I am afraid,” replied the tauren. “We still have much ground to cover, as the entirety of the temple appears to be corrupted.”

 

Meechi looked at the shaman and the vrykul. “Then let’s go!” She ran up the stairs and back onto the second floor of the Scrollkeeper's Sanctum, where the travelers had first entered.

​

Sahtra climbed back up the stairs and found where Mori lay on the carpet, breathing deeply but still unconscious. He picked her up just as he had done the previous night. I did not expect to play the part of a professional horse, he thought to himself with a frown. The death knight glanced over his shoulder and let out a chuckle as he observed the three undead summons still following their master obediently. Mori in one hand and her wand in the other, Sahtra strode towards the door, and the young necromancer's minions followed suit.

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