The travelers opted to take a short rest in the courtyard to replenish their resources, whether physical or magical in nature. Mori twirled around, her oversized robe spreading out around her. She skipped around the death knight out of boredom and stopped in front of him, tugging on his cloak. She remembered she had a question for him.

 

Sahtra didn’t bother to look down. “What is it, child?” His voice was frigid, his tone sharp and dry.

 

The young blood elf thought that perhaps she had made a mistake and had tested the patience of the large, intimidating death knight. Sahtra was fine, however, he had grown accustomed to Mori’s energy and antics.

 

“N-Nothing,” she stammered, wishing she hadn’t tried to seek his attention in the first place.

 

He tilted his head downwards and sighed. “There must be a reason you’re here. What is it?”

 

Mori gulped anxiously and looked up at Sahtra. “You’re a death knight. Can you make your undead sometime? I want to see them.”

 

“Was that all?” Sahtra chuckled as he knelt in front of Mori and looked her in the eyes. “Yes,” he answered warmly, “I will show you one day the extent of my power and control over the undead. My creations are much more powerful than yours,” he added with a wink. His blue eyes flickered playfully.

 

The child laughed. “That’s okay! I can't wait to see them!” She was satisfied. Sahtra stood back up, and Mori looked around at the others.

 

It now appeared that Halvor was busy speaking to a pandaren, but their conversation topic did not interest her. Hmm, Mori thought to herself, I’ll go talk to the orc, maybe we can try to be friends again. She picked up her robe and walked over to where the paladin stood. Her new undead summons, freshly raised from the pile of sha-corrupted pandaren, followed her single-file and mindlessly stood several feet behind her.

 

“Hi Vel’rosh!” Mori flashed a wide grin and placed her hands on her hips.

 

The orc looked nervously between the child and her minions and frowned to himself before answering.

 

“Hello, my little friend.” Vel’rosh took a moment to finish wrapping a cloth bandage around his right arm. “I am injured, but please think nothing of it. We will conquer these sha!”

 

Mori pointed at the large black aura emanating from the other end of the hall. “Oh yes, that big thing over there!” she exclaimed. “I’ll kill it with my undead!” She changed her pose into that of a flex and looked proudly at the creatures that were hers to command.

 

The paladin grunted with displeasure. He understood neither the young blood elf’s fascination with the undead nor the admiration and respect she seemed to carry for the death knight. His very existence was a mockery of true life, the source of his powers foul and unnatural. He leaned into Mori and, trying to escape Sahtra’s eyes and ears, whispered, “Child, have you ever considered using the Light and holy magic to smite these evil foes?”

 

“I’m a necromancer!” Mori exclaimed loudly, her words echoing throughout the open courtyard, “you know I don’t use the Light!” Her sharp increase in volume was not intentional, but it had nonetheless ruined the paladin’s plans of speaking to her privately. Vel’rosh could feel Sahtra’s icy glare bore through his mind; he did not have to look at the death knight to know he had heard the child and was furious. The orc was not about to let himself be deterred, however. The Light compels me to keep trying, he thought, she is young; the child’s ways can still be changed. Vel’rosh continued talking to Mori in an attempt to sway her.

 

“You do not have to follow this foul path, child. I wish you would find a better way, perhaps through the Light,” the paladin sighed, “but it seems my pleas will fall on deaf ears.”

 

Mori frowned and looked Vel’rosh in the eye. “I have chosen this path for a reason,” she spoke with conviction, “I’m studying as best as I can so that one day, I will become a powerful lich and protect my homeland!” The young blood elf marched back over to Sahtra, annoyed. The death knight smirked and addressed the paladin.

 

"You still think the Light can conquer all evils?” he spoke coolly, “the only pleas that will be heard are yours screaming for mercy once you find out how mistaken you are.”

 

Vel’rosh growled with rage. “You will burn in hell, death knight! I will see to your demise myself—” The paladin abruptly stopped himself and nodded as he looked back and forth between the young blood elf and the human. “Hold a moment! A lich, you say?” He walked up to the young blood elf and looked down at her. “If I remember correctly, thousands of elves died for the sake of one lich’s rebirth, and you wish to be like him?”

 

“That’s not really—” Mori fell silent, memories of the dying elves flooding her mind.

 

Halvor and the pandaren had finished their discussion, and the latter attempted to intervene. “Surely such hostility is not needed at the moment,” she spoke urgently, “there is still a sha here that feeds off of this anguish.”

 

The orc ignored the pandaren, taking another step closer to Mori and crouching in front of her. “You have nothing to say, do you?” He stood up and sneered at Sahtra. “It wasn’t just a lich, no,” Vel’rosh spoke as he circled the human, “your homeland fell to a death knight who murdered thousands of innocents in the pursuit of power. And yet, you ally yourself with this man? One who served him willingly? What would your fellow elves think of you for this betrayal?”

 

“I betray no one!” Mori glared fiercely at the orc, her green eyes burning brightly. “I know the truth about what happened,” she declared, “and I have made peace.”

 

The paladin grinned, his eyes flickering with the aura of the Light.

 

“Do you, now?” Vel’rosh scoffed, “Are you sure this filth has not brainwashed you into siding with him? The lies he must have told you—"

 

“No!” Mori cried out, “I believe him! I chose my own path!” She clasped her small hands over her ears. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

 

Sahtra approached Vel’rosh, placing himself between the paladin and an unsettled Mori.

 

“If you wish to speak about fallen homelands, orc, yours met its demise due to a fictional story about your ghostly ancestors.”

 

“But Ner’zhul was tricked—"

 

“And you slayed many draenei,” the death knight cut him off, “forcing them into exile. Innocents, were they not?”

 

Vel’rosh was flustered. “Listen, human,” he spat out, “after we kill this sha, I will end you—hey, put me down!” he protested as the giant Halvor picked him up in his left arm.

 

“I will kill you while we fight the Sha if need be—" Sahtra frowned silently as the large vrykul picked him up in his right arm.

 

“DO NOT FIGHT HERE,” bellowed Halvor, “I will separate you myself if I must.” The warrior stood still as the paladin squirmed and the death knight remained silent, albeit fuming.

 

“Let them fight, warrior,” a deep, resonant voice came from the black aura, “it saves me the trouble of dealing with them!”

 

Halvor sighed and immediately placed the two back down onto the ground.

 

“It is time to kill Sha!”

 

“Die or surrender. You cannot defeat me.”

 

The Sha of Doubt, a large creature of energy that resembled a black dragon engulfed in white flame, cackled deeply as the travelers made their way towards the balcony of the Temple of the Jade Serpent. Mori had previously been to this precise location for the Ritual to bind her soul to her phylactery. Back then, the atmosphere had been quiet, calm, and serene; now, it was infested with horror and traces of darkness gnawing at her mind.

 

“Attack!” called out the vrykul. No sooner had he charged the Sha than the dark entity reached out and, with a claw of shadow, touched Halvor on the chest. A darkness manifested itself there and spread out to inflict pain on Sahtra and Vel’rosh, who stood on both sides. Meechi recognized that the attack caused damage over time and gave both the death knight and the paladin potions to mitigate its onset.

 

The Sha paused for a moment, as if acknowledging that its attacks were ineffective, and moved backwards. It raised its haunting arms and brought forth from each person a translucent, black-grey duplicate of their image.

 

“This is the manifestation of your doubt,” the Sha spoke slowly, its voice giving fuel to the shadows it had brought forth, “Succumb to the darkness inside your soul.”

 

In front of Sahtra, his shadow stood silently. The death knight reached out to brush it aside, and, to the Sha’s surprise, it dissipated without effort.

 

“Impossible!” the Sha of Doubt yelled in shock. “How?”

 

“Regret and doubt only weaken one’s resolve, Sha,” Sahtra replied coolly, “I live with none.”

 

The great creature snorted out white flame from its ethereal nostrils. “Perhaps you don’t, then, but the others are not so strong.” The Sha let out a chilling laugh as it surveyed the balcony. “See how effortlessly they become unraveled!”

 

Sahtra looked over his shoulder and turned around at the sight of Mori struggling with her clone. They stood face-to-face, the living copy clearly intimidated by her shadow.

 

“You heard the orc, Mori,” the clone warned, “are you really sure you want to become a lich?”

 

Mori attempted to hold her ground but stuttered. “Y-Yes! I’ve made up my m-mind already!”

 

“If that creature didn’t exist, your homeland wouldn’t be in ruins!”

 

“Th-That’s not true! Quel’Thalas would have been destroyed anyway! The Legion w-wanted it gone!” The young necromancer attempted to cast bolts of shadow at her clone, but the latter laughed as she shrugged them off.

 

“Wh-Why,” Mori became frustrated at the ineffectiveness of her spells, “why won’t you go away?”

 

Her shadow raised an eyebrow as she grinned. “Because,” she replied nonchalantly, “that’s not all you’re worried about.” The clone began to spread her arms apart to prepare a ball of blight, Mori’s favorite and most powerful spell. Her shadow smirked. “You don’t know if you can really trust Sahtra!”

 

The young blood elf stood speechless with her eyes wide and her mouth open. A bolt of shadow she had been in the midst of preparing disappeared with a fizz.

 

Her clone continued. “Sahtra is a death knight, a very powerful one. And do you know what death knights want?”

 

“What normal people wa—”

 

“No,” the shadow replied sternly, “all they want is to satisfy their craving for blood. They cannot feel positive emotions!”

 

“Y-You’re wrong!” the necromancer retorted after a moment of deliberation. “He’s nice to me, and he’s saved me a lot!” She thought of all the times he had stopped her from putting herself at risk or had looked out for her when no one else did.

 

“You’re such a child, Mori,” her shadow sneered, “He only wants to protect you now so that you can be useful to him when you grow up! You can be powerful, yes, but he wants to use you and your power.” The clone looked away from her and to her left. “Isn’t that right,” the shadow teased, “old man?”

 

Mori gasped as she turned and saw Sahtra standing next to her. How much he had seen, she didn’t know, but he had been watching this portion intently, and she had been too absorbed in her debate to have noticed. The death knight looked down at her silently, his blue eyes glowing so fiercely they gave off an illusion of fire.

 

“See,” the shadow declared triumphantly, “he doesn’t say anything! He really doesn’t care about you!”

 

The young blood elf froze, partly from embarrassment and partly from the fear that her clone may be right. “S-Sahtra, I’m s-sorry…I…I d-don’t know if—”

 

“You’re too late! Haha!” Shadow Mori exclaimed, “I’m going to enjoy hurting you.” With those words, the clone thrust the ball of blight rapidly towards her living complement, and she waited eagerly for the inevitable scream of agony, her hands clasped together. It never happened.

 

Sahtra stepped directly in front of the young blood elf in time and took the full force of the blight onto his body. The spell had been powerful enough to cause him to lose breath for a few moments; but he shrugged it off. The young necromancer may not have survived were she the one to have been struck.

 

“Sahtra!” Mori’s eyes glowed with concern. “Why…why did you do that?!” She furrowed her brow in thought. “Did you do that…so that you can…keep me alive for later?

 

"Mori—"

 

"Yes, of course. I’m not useful to you if I’m de—”

 

Sahtra raised his voice. “That's enough.”

 

The words struck Mori like shards of ice, and she fell quiet, stunned. The death knight knelt in front of the young blood elf and gently placed his gloved hand on her shoulder. “You must not give in to your doubt, little one. Learn to steel your mind and your conviction. If you cannot find that strength, you have lost everything.”

​

Sahtra stood back up and placed his hand encouragingly on Mori’s back. “Now, my child, show the impostor who the stronger one is. Strike her with all you’ve got!”

 

The necromancer nodded and broke out into a wide grin as she began preparing a powerful cast of blight. She would not let her clone show her up. “Here we go!”

 

Shadow Mori’s eyes grew wide with horror as she watched the ball of green magic grow larger and pulse violently, small charges of lightning being infused into the spell. “Wh-What?! You actually believe him? No! It cannot be!”

 

“I do!” The young blood elf shouted decisively. “I trust Sahtra and he’s going to help me become stronger! I care about him, and he cares about me! Now,” Mori sent the blight hurling towards her clone, “go away!”

 

The impact of the blight immediately vaporized the shadow, who had no defense against its tremendous power, and Sahtra and Mori could hear her wail fade into silence. The latter immediately dropped onto her knees, tired and out of breath, but with a smile on her face.

 

“Great job, little one,” the death knight knelt down in front of her, “I am proud of you.”

 

“Thank you, Sahtra,” Mori responded, and reached out for his cloak, gripping it tightly, “thank you for being there for me.”

 

“Hey, are you okay?” a voice from the distance called out, “That looked like it hurt!”

 

Mori turned her head to the vulpera, who was scrambling over to the death knight. She placed her hands on her knees and took a moment to calm her breathing.

 

“Give me a minute,” Meechi spoke between pants, “my shadow put up more of a struggle than I expected.”

 

“No rush,” Sahtra waved his gloved hand dismissively, “I’m fine.”

 

The alchemist raised an eyebrow at him then pulled out a large red vial from her pouch. “This is a greater healing potion,” she stuck it out at the death knight, “you could definitely use one.”

 

Sahtra begrudgingly took the vial from her with one hand and removed his helm with the other. Avoiding eye contact with either the blood elf or the vulpera, he lifted the bottle to his lips. As the death knight consumed the healing potion, the green-tinted shadow lingering on his body disappeared, and his face, ever a pale white with a bluish tint, regained some of its color. Sahtra handed the vial back to Meechi and donned his helm once more.

 

“I’m gonna go check on the others.” Meechi stuffed the vial back into her bag and darted off towards Vel’rosh, who was engaged in battle against his clone. The orc and his shadow exchanged blows with their greatswords while they waged war with their words.

 

“Your bloodlust has poisoned you, orc. You will never truly be worthy of the title of ‘paladin’.”

 

Vel’rosh grunted. “I made a promise to my master. I swore to change my ways and embrace the Light!”

 

The clone parried a strike then gripped his living counterpart’s hand tightly. The orc winced at his shadow’s strength inflicting pain upon his corporeal body.

 

“Do not be so foolish as to think that you have full control over your instincts.” He reached out and struck Vel’rosh across the cheek. “When the time comes that you succumb, the Light will not save you.”

 

“Silence!” Vel’rosh roared. “The Light will not abandon me! I will use its strength to smite the filth that dare oppose us, and it will sustain me until my dying days!”

 

The orc took the greatsword and thrust it through the shadow where its heart would be. The clone groaned and whispered as it fell. “If…you…believe so…”

 

"I know so." Vel’rosh surveyed the large gash on his arm. “Light grant me healing,” he muttered, and a beam of radiance fell upon him as his arm glowed and the wound closed. “Hah, perfect—” the orc turned around as he felt the gaze of two pairs of eyes upon him.

 

“Why, you…” the paladin’s voice trailed off as his eyes locked with the death knight’s glowing blue. “I swear I will eliminate your undead hide when this is—” Vel’rosh cut himself off as the powerful voice of the Sha broke out from the other end of the hallway.

 

“How disappointing!” the rumbling monster exclaimed, “I was sure your clones would finish you off!” He rubbed his shadowy black forelimbs together. “No matter, I shall complete the task myself!”

 

Without the doubt of the travelers to provide the Sha with its strength, however, it had become significantly weakened. It held a shadowy claw up to Vel’rosh and struck him on the chest as it had before, but the impact was nowhere near as severe.

 

“No…it cannot be!” The Sha of Doubt recoiled in disbelief at its waning power. A firebomb from Meechi exploded where his physical stomach would normally be, its flames intermingling with the essence of the Sha. The large creature shook it off and prepared to strike Sahtra and Halvor, who approached him from two sides.

 

“The touch of my claw will send doubt throughout your—AUGH!”

 

The Sha of Doubt screamed as Sahtra’s cursed axe Shin’ka swung through the creature’s hand and cut it off at the wrist, the flesh vaporizing as three large black claws dropped to the temple floor with a loud thud. Holding his stunted arm with his healthy one, the Sha of Doubt turned his attention away from Halvor, who rapidly approached the Sha from behind. The creature turned around in time to strike the vrykul back but recoiled as a firebomb exploded onto his functional arm and forced its essence to dissipate.

 

“Ha!” exclaimed the vulpera. “Great shot!”

 

The Sha howled as Vel’rosh cut at its forelegs with his greatsword, leaving behind streaks of golden glow as the infused Light took effect on the shadowy entity’s body. Halvor followed up with a strong blow from his shield, knocking the Sha back against the wall with no means of escape. Mori sent a ball of blight reeling towards the creature, and it groaned in pain when it struck. There was not much it could do for defense, either. The Sha of Doubt lifted its stubbed arm to attack the incoming death knight but dropped it as its strength left him.

 

“You,” Sahtra called out, “are finished!” He jumped, raising his axe into the air, and brought it down as he landed on the ground in front of the heart of the Sha of Doubt.

 

“You cannot escape me,” the creature spoke one last time as its form began to dissolve and float into the air, “I…am…in every…breath…”

 

The Sha of Doubt had been defeated.