Death Never Dies

by Milton Garby

  The glaive smashed into a stone archway and sent bricks flying as the demon laughed. As it opened its mouth Sara caught sight of the burning demonfire within its gullet, the same fire that burned at the top of its head in place of hair, trailing down its back and all along its muscular, spiny tail like a horse's mane. Two enormous tusks, thrice her size, jutted out from either side of the pit lord's face and curved straight up, as if to secure prey close to its mouth for it to gorge upon. Even its nostrils and eyes were little baleful cinders, as if the entirety of the annihilan's cruel body was a shell made to contain a roaring star.

  Yep. Definitely time to go.

  Sara turned for the wizard tower and bolted, dodging fights and soaking arrows with her shadowy barrier. The pit lord roared, and suddenly a narrow beam of fel energy seared overhead and into a brawl between a group of warriors, a mage, and a dreadlord. The beam hit in the midst of them and, while the dreadlord was able to wing away from them in time to avoid being roasted, the others were blown away like rag dolls. Still in the air, the dreadlord looked her way and grinned.

  Dreadlords were not as brutally overwhelming as pit lords, but the nathrezim had their own sinister danger. This one, like others, had corpse-like skin and enormous bat wings with pale lavender webbing sprouting from his back. Two black horns sprouted almost straight up from its head and engraved in its skin were two black streaks from beneath his smoldering eyes. The dreadlord's hands ended in four talons, and unlike most demons the pallid nathrezim wore almost full body plate, elaborately designed with demon runes on its blue metal and a sash of skull around his waist, and like most demons his legs ended in hooves.

  And he wasn't affected by her distraction spell.

  The dreadlord laughed and winged towards Sara faster than she would've thought possible. She could see her magic working on it, but it must've been shielding itself psychically. And that meant she needed to do this the hard way, with a pit lord at her back. Forget holding back, time was of the essence and she could deal with over channeling later. Sara's Old God magic flowed around her hands and she began preparing a spell.

  The dreadlord was quicker. He brought his hands in to his chest and thrust them out. Instantaneously, a cresting wave of green magic formed, filled with carrion insects buzzing in and out of existence. She gasped, but with the spell still half formed she dug in her heels and let the carrion swarm splash around her shield and push her back a few yards. When she stopped, Sara launched her shadow bolt at the dreadlord. The laughing skull screamed through the air, but the demon just effortlessly dodged to the side and ran at her, smacking her shield with his talons.

  Her barrier held and she didn't move, giving Sara the opportunity to nail the dreadlord in the chest with a shadow bolt. She gleefully saw surprise flicker across his face as her shadow magic burnt into him, even through the natural shadow resistance most demons had, as the spell tossed him back. Using that opportunity Sara reached her Old God magic into his mind.

  The familiar sprawl of thought lines laid itself out before her, but Sara wasn't interested in doing anything precise. She was going to turn this demon into a vegetable. She gathered her sinister power and struck at the first thought line... only for the dreadlord to jerk to the side at the last second, causing her attack to ravage the air where his brain had been only moments before.

  "No!" he shouted, before muttering a curse in Demonic. Then Sara knew pain.

  She could see a red skull laughing above her, and felt the shadow magic lashing all about her skin. A weak breath escaped her lips, but she steeled herself. It was just an agony curse. She'd felt a few of them dueling, it was nothing she couldn't work around. She brought her hands in and gathered her magic, then threw her arms back and released a colossal, blinding shadow nova.

  When the dark magic faded she found the dreadlord struggling to right himself mid air, and she took the opportunity to cast another spell she rarely, if ever, used. A 'funnel' appeared between her and the dreadlord, and thick streams of emerald life energy began to flow from the dreadlord's chest into her arm and from there through her entire body. It was... incredible. A rush of well being and nourishment that even the escalating pain of his curse couldn't overcome.

  The dreadlord, of course, responded to her life drain spell with his own. Sara winced as she felt something like her organs being sucked out through a funnel, but stopped the life drain spell and instead nailed the dreadlord with another shadow bolt while he was distracted. He flew back, stunned, and Sara took a moment to stifle a scream as the agony spell grew stronger, like hot nails being driven into her chest. Another shot from the pit lord sounded, blasting a forge to rubble and slag. She had to focus though. Sara concentrated on the nathrezim before her and, for the first time in her life, cast a corruption spell on a living being.

  The demon screamed.

  Thick black clouds formed around the dreadlord and dove in like biting insects, ripping and tearing at flesh. But then, instead of only doing that like it did for training dummies, the corruption spell began to carve lines across the dreadlord, glowing violet lines that burnt through his plate and etched into his wings. He screamed and clawed at his wings, trying to tear out the spreading lines. Sara was so transfixed by the spectacle she hardly noticed the agony curse on her had dissipated, or the pit lord shooting more fel blasts. The dreadlord rose into the air, flapping desperately even as holes were eaten through his wings and his armor turned from teal to dark violet. The talons on his wings and the claws on his hands turned to fangs dripping with saliva, and then the demon gave one last cry before his armor hollowed out, his flesh turned into vampiric bats, and they swarmed away before vanishing into shadow magic.

  Sara looked down at her hand, still engulfed in dark fog, and blinked.

  Then she ran for the wizard tower, felfire blasts raining down into Nethergarde. Thankfully no infernals came to attack her and she made it to the tower and sealed herself in without further incident. Unfortunately, the tower was starting to burn.

  There weren't many people inside, since most of the mages were out in the field fighting off the demons, and losing horribly because that was a damned pit lord! The inside of the wizard tower was filled with bookshelves on all sides, most of them probably devoted to combat magic. Tables filled with scrolls littered the floor, and a stairwell wound up dizzyingly to the top. She could see ten mages at the moment, their arms in casts as they recovered from injuries. All of them were busy casting frost spells on the spreading blaze that was consuming bookshelves and steadily opening a hole to the outside world.

  "Who here can cast a portal to Dalaran?" she demanded as though she had any authority, deactivating her gem. "We're evacuating!"

  Two mages, a man and a woman, raised their hands. The others either continued trying to put out the fire or stared at her incredulously. She looked at the man, and nodded. She only needed him.

  They were powerful mages, but they'd spent mana putting out the fires, they were injured, and they weren't expecting her to release a shadow nova almost point blank into their midst. The darkness briefly suffocated the inferno, but before she could even release more magic they were blazing again.

  Whoosh! One surge of eldritch magic blasted into a few of the mages, instantly killing them. The others recovered and started to summon arcane magic, but another lash of power put them down. The man she'd chosen had been tossed into a table by the shadow nova, and into a bookshelf by the tail end of her following casts. She charged at him and placed both hands on either side of his head.

  He was ugly, with crooked teeth and pallid skin. His hair was messy and brown, and his eyes went wide as she channeled shadow magic into his head. She didn't exercise caution and simply started forcefully reworking his thoughts. It was the same thing she'd done to the succubus, but far less controlled and much hastier. She probably ruined some vital processes connected to the liver and kidneys but she didn't care. He was loyal in seconds.

  "Climb upstairs and open a portal to Dalaran the
re!" she shouted, already running for the stairs. He followed after her with a thousand yard stare, the fires tickling his heels right as he got on the steps.

  Up. Right. Left. Up. Behind. Up. Sara wound her way up, and up, until she was at the top level of the tower with creaking wooden floor beneath her feet. From a window she could see that everything had gone to hell. The annihilan was inside, the soldiers were forced back to the barracks. Infernals hailed from the sky and were busy bashing everything in sight. The thud thud thud downstairs was proof that one had found its way to the wizard tower and it was only a matter of time before the whole place was on fire.

  The mage she'd ensnared took the final step and instantly began casting. Arcane runes flooded in from around his feet and into the silver-blue orbs in his hands. Sara stepped to the side and looked down the steps. There wasn't an infernal inside - yet - but felhounds were charging up the stairs, led by a felguard. Over channeling her magic into vibrant emerald again, she fired a single shot straight down and cut through the steps. With a horrible series of cracks, the demons fell down into the inferno below.

  She turned back to the mage and began working her magic on his mind again. He'd be dead from smoke inhalation in a few minutes, but she wasn't willing to risk any loose ends. She found the speech center and connected it to the part of the brain stem that controlled heartbeat. The moment he uttered a word, his heart would stop. It wasn't murder, he was going to die anyway so it was fine.

  The portal was nearly complete, if the ringing of arcane energy was anything to go by. "When I'm through," she ordered. "Close the portal and say 'Hello'. Do not speak until then." He nodded, and continued to cast. Sara sent a few more shadow blasts downstairs to handle some flying demons, but by the time the portal to Dalaran finally tore itself open the fire was roaring dangerously close, it was hard to see through the smoke streaming around her barrier, and the wooden floor was starting to glow ominously.

  "Time to go," she muttered. Then Sara took a deep breath, and canceled her shield.

  Withering heat and the smell of campfires she'd never gone to assaulted her. She nearly gagged on the scorching air, looked at the portal and took a step towards it.

  CRACK! The tower tilted, the floor beneath her feet lurching up and throwing her to the ground. Her hands burned, but she scrambled back up and ran uphill to the portal and threw herself in with reckless abandon.

  She let loose a breath when the heat and smoke vanished, replaced with silver and teal arcane energy that surged around her like a river. The same sensation of falling came upon her, and she took the moment to relax and calm her pounding heart. She did it. She nearly died several times but she'd gotten out of Nethergarde and, hopefully, everyone there would think she died in the action. But there were problems. She had no money, no real plan on how to get to Ulduar, and all her work had gone up in smoke thanks to the infernal. Still, that was a worry for the future.

  For the time being, Sara went limp in the portal's embrace and allowed it to carry her to Dalaran.

  Talgath the Inexorable

  He swept his eyes across the land, mouth set into a grim line. All around him, the military engine of the Burning Legion sprawled across the land, befouling the land and plaguing the sky. Far in the distance, he could see the ruins of Nethergarde Keep, and he let himself smirk.

  It had taken long enough to break them down, but with the pit lord Argolash's arrival the Alliance could not hold. Unfortunately, their surprise attack was all that had let them smash the fortress, and they'd expended most of their infernals in bombarding Nethergarde. Dreadmaul Hold would be easier to take now that they didn't need to focus on both the Alliance and the Horde, but they still needed time to regain their forces. Time the Alliance could use to fortify a base further north.

  They were behind schedule, they were the weakest link. The northern forces had already reached the Undercity. The armies in Northrend were holding Wintergrasp and wreaking havoc upon the Dragonflights. Those demons who had gone to Kalimdor were spreading out from the Barrens rapidly, and leading the Kingslayers on a wild goose chase through Dire Maul. But Doomlord Ku'rozal was still in the Blasted Lands. Kil'jaeden wanted the invasion accelerated, and so Talgath had come.

  His duties consisted primarily of keeping Argolash from running off on his own and getting blown up.

  The eredar lord stroked his chin and turned left, walking forward. The total destruction of the Alliance forces in the region was good, but ransacking the keep had revealed something rather... unnerving. Somehow, the humans had taken control of a succubus, permanently.

  Talgath walked across the black-scourged land towards where a nathrezim held the enthralled sayaad. She sat on an elevated boulder, staring off into space while the dreadlord channeled psychic magics into her head, inspecting the damage the mortals had done to her.

  "What is the damage and what is the source?" Talgath asked once he'd arrived. "Their warlocks are incapable of doing this."

  "Right you are, my lord," the dreadlord Lorthiras said. "The damage is severe. She has no motivation and is unflinchingly loyal to anybody who speaks to her, including mortals. I do believe I have encountered such magic before, long ago before the Burning Legion existed. This is the work of the Old Gods and their servants."

  He growled. "Old Gods? Preposterous."

  "Yet that is the magic that did this to her. I suspect a Twilight's Hammer cultist infiltrated their army and lobotomized her with their magic. The changes are deep, it will take a long time to reverse the damage."

  "But you can reverse it," Talgath said, pleased. "How long do you estimate it will take?"

  "A few days I'm afraid. These changes are permanent otherwise, and it takes a lot of magic to permanently change a mind like this. We do not possess Old God magic. However I can assure you that within a week, she will be back to normal and can tell us all about who did this to her."

  "Very well. Come to me when you have succeeded." Talgath turned and stomped away from the nathrezim, allowing him to continue his work. He frowned. Old God magic. It was likely that whatever cultist had infiltrated Nethergarde was now dead. However it was also likely that they had slipped away in the confusion. Talgath would not be satisfied until he saw a body, and truth be told he was nervous. The Legion was mighty, but the Old Gods were beyond them. Small fortune they were chained beneath the land. Their mind magic was beyond all reckoning...

  ... no. It was absurd to fear this cultist. They were a mortal, dabbling in magics they hardly understood. That it was Old God magic they dabbled in mattered not. They were not an Old God. If they were not dead already, then they would be soon.

  Sara

  At last, the shimmering arcane light about her began to flow down like watercolors. Sara braced herself for landing, but when the world returned and she found herself in the Violet Citadel of Dalaran, she fell down and collapsed to all fours as a sharp pain flared in her legs. The air fled her lungs and she whined pitifully, grasping her burning legs.

  A few mages around her took notice of her and made to approach, but she waved them away.

  "I'm fine," she breathed. "I'm fine. I had a portal scheduled and I had to run." She took another gasping breath. "I had to run really far to get to it on time. Damn it," she whispered, trying to will the fire in her legs to subside.

  With heavy legs she stomped her way forward and out of the Violet Citadel, into the streets of Dalaran, and found a bench to sit on. Once she slumped onto it, Sara finally allowed herself to take in the sights.

  The streets were paved with purple cobblestones, and vibrated gently beneath her feet as the city hovered in the sky. The buildings were marble, with warm stained glass windows glowing from within. Every building was covered with banners in many hues of violet and silver and blue. The rooftops were brilliant royal purple hemispheres with gold trimmings, plopped on top of buildings with blue focusing gems sprouting from their apex. While not as crowded as it had been during the Northrend campaign Dalaran still saw a hefty a
mount of hustle and bustle, mainly from the spellcasting crowd, who flocked to the city of the magi to hone their skills.

  Sara also noticed that it was unutterably cold. The bitter chill of Northrend, in winter, high in the sky, cut through her brown shirt and dress and sliced into her bones. Living most of her life in warm Elwynn had done nothing to prepare her for this.

  A shiver lanced through her body and she brought her arms in to hug herself. She stood and, with shaking and pained legs, made her way to one of the wizards standing on the nearest street corner.

  This one was a high elf much like that cultist Higris had been, with long pointed ears, glowing blue eyes, and cream skin. Unlike him, however, this one wore brilliant violet and blue robes with the eye of the Kirin Tor in the middle, and held a single staff in one hand. "H-Hello," she stammered to him. "I just came here through portal but forgot my jacket. A-Any idea where I can get something?"

  He nodded. "You'll want Talismanic Textiles, over by the Magus Commerce Exchange. It's that way," he said, pointing down a few streets. "Take the first left, then the second right and you'll be in the Exchange, from there just look for the sign that says Talismanic Textiles. Though you might also want Legendary Leathers for something thick, it's in the same area so if you can find one you can find the other. Oh goodness hold still for a moment." He held up the hand not gripping the staff and the blue aura of frost magic, complete with snowflakes and ice sharks glimmering into existence, wrapped around his fingers.

  At the same moment, a whirlwind of ice and snow blew around Sara. For a moment the temperature dropped and her muscles locked up painfully, but then the magic faded from sight and warm but stagnant air rushed over her. "Frost ward, you looked awful miss. It'll only last for half an hour though, so I suggest you hurry."

  She nodded her thanks, still shivering. "Thank you f-for your directions, sir." She brought her hands up and blew into them. Sara walked away from him and towards the Magus Commerce Exchange, however once the mage was out of sight she turned the exact opposite direction and went to cut through the center of Dalaran. As she passed, she couldn't help but notice the radiant golden statue in the middle of the fountain, with Tirion Fordring raising the Ashbringer high, complete with soldiers around him.