“Control Undead. A powerful spell that lets you grasp the will of an undead creature and control it for thirty days. The more intelligent the creature is, the more difficult it will be, so I advise you to set your expectations low. Even if you do manage to successfully execute this spell, it will drain much of your mana. Take a long rest before you attempt the spell again, lest you should face the consequences of overexertion.”
- Kel’Thuzad’s Book of Forbidden Knowledge
Mori had learned a new spell, and she was eager to use it on something…or someone. But it was a valuable, potent spell, and she had to choose wisely. She and her traveling companions had come across many sorts of apparitions or ghoulish enemies, but they had not yet been deemed suitable.
“You got through the previous guardian, but you shall not make it past me.” A transparent, phantom mogu stood, or rather, floated, in front of the travelers, arms outstretched. The spirit had positioned itself between them and a large bell. “The beast must not be awakened!”
The guardian looked between Kill’rath and Sahtra positioned for combat in front of him and extended his right arm with a low, deep chuckle. From the body of the death knight came forth a blue, glowing stream that materialized into a transparent yet identical copy of himself.
“What…what happened to me?” Sahtra placed his hand over his chest and stood stunned for a few moments. He finally turned to his duplicate and nodded in comprehension. “Listen, you false image,” he glared as he snapped, “get back inside! We have no time for multiple personalities here!”
“I’m afraid that will not happen,” laughed the guardian, “he is under my control now, and will only do as I tell him.”
“Oh no,” Luna gasped, “Sahtra is very strong, and his defenses are the best against our attacks!” She cast a large bubble around her and her allies. “This shield should help us!”
“My attacks won’t hurt him much,” the orc agreed, “need strong magic.”
Mori stood silently, watching the others decide the best way for taking down Sahtra’s clone before it could significantly hurt any of them. But she knew better; taking the death knight down would not be easy, and a grin broke out on her face as she held her arms out and prepared her spell.
A flash of green light bolted through the air from the young necromancer’s fingers past her traveling companions and into the head of the death knight’s clone. Sahtra took a step back while the priestess and the warrior looked back and forth between Mori and her target, bewildered.
“Mori! What exactly are you doing?” exclaimed Luna.
“You…will…be…MINE!” the young blood elf increased the intensity of the spell and poured more mana into wresting control of the death knight’s mind from the guardian. The clone showed signs of struggle as it groaned under the effect of the battle between two necromancers. Just a little more, Mori thought to herself, I’m almost there. A sweat broke out on Mori’s forehead and her breathing turned heavy.
“No, NO!” The guardian attempted to close the distance between the young blood elf and himself, in hopes that it would distract the child from her spell and thwart her attempt to gain control. But she would not yield. With a cry, Mori channeled her remaining mana and watched intently as the death knight’s clone finally submitted. The link had been formed.
“DEATH GRIP!” she called out, and the clone obeyed, dragging the guardian away from her.
“A curse upon you, nuisance!” the phantom mogu yelled, but without his primary tool, he was rendered defenseless. Kill’rath beat down upon him with his axe to finish him off, and his spirit floated away with a whimper.
“I think we can ring bell,” the orc spoke as he walked up to the large object and struck it with the hammer, “that makes two out of three.” The warrior looked around himself nervously as the grounds trembled and several tiles fell off the ceiling.
Sahtra walked over to Mori, who was kneeling down with her hands flat on the floor, catching her breath. He looked to his clone, who stood behind her, and back at the young necromancer.
“I thought you might try that, little one,” he spoke. Mori looked up at him and flashed a triumphant grin. “I didn’t know if your clone would come back if we killed the mogu, but I know you’re really strong.” She stood up and brushed the dust off her robe. “It would have been a bad idea to fight you, I think. This was better!” Her grin faded into a look of concern as she couldn’t make out the death knight’s expression. Did he approve? Did he intend to fight for control of his clone?
“How long do you have him for?” His tone was neutral, his expression blank.
“Thirty days.”
Mori watched nervously as Sahtra marched up to his clone, who stood emotionless unless his new master demanded it. “Remember this, impostor,” the death knight began as he pointed Shalamayne at him, “anything you can do, I can do better.” He then turned around and started for his pet direhorn Anubis.
“Wait!” Mori called out, “Are you okay with…with what I did?”
Sahtra paused and answered without looking back, “It is what it is.” He placed his sword on his back and continued on. Mori watched him walk away, unconvinced, as she cast necrotic breath to heal the clone back to full health. Regardless of whether the death knight approved, she would take good care of him, impostor or not.
* * * * *
Mori pranced back and forth in her room, deep in thought. She had been unable to sleep, her mind toiling over the decision she had made earlier. The young necromancer stood silently for several moments and surveyed the undead she had under her control.
First, there was Jin’rokh the Breaker. He was one of many trolls who had fallen to her service, but this one was especially strong. She used him to pin down enemies or render them prone by throwing them into walls. Next was Quili the Deadeye, nicknamed Chili Pepper, a mogu Mori had managed to raise after he proved himself to be a thorn in the travelers’ sides. He was exceptionally good at using a bow and arrow, and she was able to keep him at a safe distance from the action. Third, Sul the Sandcrawler, nicknamed Sandman. He wasn’t good for much other than throwing out, well, sand, and Mori had raised him mostly out of revenge. One of the lesser races, he had claimed she was, and when the young blood elf showed off her scores of troll undead to object, he had trapped her in a pool of quicksand. Mori giggled as she looked over his undead body. Who had the last laugh now?
Finally, she stood next to the clone of the one who had become her caretaker and most trusted ally. She reached out and gently grasped his cloak, but the clone did not react. He could not react, unless she willed it. He was now like all her other undead, standing or sitting still without a sound or emotion on their faces except when commanded to speak or fight.
“Hey Sahtra,” asked Luna, “how does it feel to have a clone of yourself?”
“I don’t know how to explain it in words,” the death knight replied, “it feels like a part of me is missing, like I’m not entirely here. I feel confused and lost.”
That conversation haunted Mori. “But you’re not like the other undead!” she blurted out at the clone. “You’re part of a living person! You’re part of Sahtra! I can’t treat you like just another one of my minions. They’re tools! They’re only tools!” The clone looked down at her without a word, his blue eyes glowing just like his original counterpart. Mori could barely have him sitting guard in her room, either. It felt like an invasion of the poor death knight’s privacy. He never asked for this. She returned to the inside of her room and sat down on her bed, thinking with her face in her hands. I could just release him, and he would return to Sahtra, she thought to herself, but he might think that unwise. Having two death knights would make the party safer against threats. Mori sat up with a jolt and looked straight ahead as her eyes widened. Or…I know! She struck her fist into her palm, having come up with an idea. Sahtra can command his clone! I can order absolute obedience to him, and I think he would like that. Mori nodded happily as she hopped down from her bed and once again approached the clone of the death knight.
“Come with me,” she motioned to him, and he followed her to Sahtra’s room.
* * * * *
“Neither.”
“Wh-What?!” Mori stammered, dumbfounded. “You don’t like either idea?”
“I said neither.” Sahtra’s voice was firm and resolute. “He is yours for twenty-nine more days.”
The young blood elf wrung her hands in disbelief. “But why?! He’s a part of you! You’re a living person, not someone I should control like a mindless undead!”
“Think of it this way, child,” the death knight began, “we are taking advantage of the situation. A duplicate of me is an excellent resource in battle.” He raised his hand to silence Mori, who was about to protest. “And if I were to command him, the fragment of my soul would experience more pain.”
Mori stood silently. She could not argue back; both his points made sense. She did not want to cause him any more pain than he felt, either. “But you told Luna,” she began, “that you feel empty inside without him. I don’t want you to feel that way.”
Sahtra sighed and chuckled softly. “It can’t be helped,” he replied, “I’m undead. It will always feel like something is missing, even if the rest of my soul were to return to me.”
“That’s so sad…” Mori murmured, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She looked down as she blinked them away, afraid to let the death knight see her losing her composure. The young necromancer looked back up at him and nodded. She didn’t feel good about it, but if Sahtra felt it was the best option and she couldn’t disagree, she would continue to hold on to the clone. She turned around and began to head back to her room.
“Besides,” the death knight spoke up, “if you don’t think I am eager to show up my clone, you are sorely mistaken.” Mori paused, and a smile spread across her face. “Silly Sahtra,” she declared, “you’re already the coolest!”
The young blood elf held onto the clone’s cloak as they returned to her room. “Guess you’re still with me,” she spoke to him as she instructed him to sit down near the shelf. Mori looked at him one last time before crawling into her bed, and a wave of tiredness finally swept over her as she relaxed and fell into a deep sleep.
Comments