She was ten now, and she had a new name. She was called Hilde, after one of the most well-known mistresses of the demon realm. She had been at Scholomance nearly six years. The island of Caer Darrow and its small village were her entire world, aside from the rigorous studying and schooling. She had been among the first in her class to defeat the more advanced demon called a voidwalker, and bind it to her will. She called her voidwalker Fogg, and it was her constant companion.

In recent weeks she'd noticed something strange though. The villagers acted frightened whenever a teacher appeared in their midst. Older students would go down into the crypts below the school and vanish. Wagons rolled almost constantly out from the storehouses, headed towards Andorhal on the other side of the lake. It made for a strangely tense atmosphere, that she couldn't escape even by burying herself in her codexes.

It was the darkest part of the night when the echoing voice of Fogg woke her up. The tenseness manifested immediately into a painful clench in her stomach. Hilde sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

"What is it, Fogg?"

"Missstresss," Fogg hissed, his voice resounding hollowly off the stone walls. "Come." His pointed fingers tapped at the grimy window. Hilde slid out of bed, and peered outside.

Below, the gates to Caer Darrow were flung open wide. Ruddy torchlight bounced off the small cottages. The entire causeway to the mainland seethed with bodies, their dark shapes moving and twisting as far as she could see. Shapes in black robes knelt at the front, surrounding a knot of terrified villagers. But outshining even the torches was the massive spectral figure at the head of the procession. Unearthly purple light spilled from its writhing robe, the folds granting brief glimpses of glimmering bone.

"That's a lich!" Hilde whispered, horror edging her voice. She bent down so only her eyes were visible above the sill. A movement jerked her attention towards the main doors of the school, now swinging open. The small cadre that emerged was familiar and comforting. It was the Barovs, and headmaster Gandling. Although she hadn't seen them in some time, their presence against the lich was promising. Hilde snuck a hand up to the fastening, edging open the window to better hear.

"Ras Frostwhisper, we stand ready to receive orders from Kel'Thuzad," Alexei Barov intoned. The small group from Scholomance sank to their knees, bowing before the glowing Lich. Hilde gulped in air, her fingers digging into the windowsill.

"Kel'Thuzad is coming soon to fulfill the promises made to all of you. The plague is proceeding as scheduled, due to your efforts." The booming voice of the Lich rattled the windows.

"We have welcomed the Cult of the Dammed within our walls. We have financed the bringing of children from all over Lordaeron to serve the master," Lady Illucia Barov said, flicking her cloak backwards. "All is in readiness for the Scourge's opening strike."

"And those students of power are ensconced below?" the Lich asked.

"All but the children under the age of twelve. They are still in the school above. Those having been found worthy have already sworn loyalty to the Scourge." Lady Illucia shrugged her narrow shoulders. "Keep the younger ones, or kill them."

"Death is irrelevant," the Lich growled. "They will serve in life or in death. Only the master's will matters." The Lich turned, his skeletal fingers slicing through the air.

"My devoted cultists, enter and secure the young. Take the villagers into our crypts below. There is much to be done before Kel'Thuzad arrives."

Hilde backed away from the window, her mind racing. Her thoughts ricocheted in circles, her eyes flying over the contents of her room. With every beat of her heart, her mind screamed. The Scourge was evil incarnate. For the first time in six years, she heard the voice of her mother inside her mind.

"The Scourge turns people into monsters. If you are bad, they will come for you. And you'll be just like them. So you better be good, or they will know."

Her hands shot out, closing on her clothes. She threw on her robe and shoved her feet into her shoes. She grabbed at her small knife and tied it quickly to her waist.

"Fogg, go and find a way out, now! And if you can, find me a spellbook and a wand."

Her voidwalker gave a growl of acknowledgement, and swept out through the door. By now, Hilde could hear the frantic stirrings from all the rooms around her. Most of the children had been awakened by their familiars it seemed, and were reacting in similar fashion.

She had just swung on her cloak when the Fogg reappeared. In one hand was a tattered book, in the other a chipped wand. Hilde took both gratefully, sliding the book down her front, and gripping the wand tightly in her fist.

"Misssstresss, thisssss way," Fogg echoed. Cautiously Hilde swung open the door, and peeked into the hallway.

It was bedlam. Children of all ages were running in an odd assortment of garments, darting this way and that. Their familiars squawked and howled, pointing in various directions. But over the chaos, Hilde could hear footsteps coming up the main stairs.

Fogg growled, and Hilde turned to chase him. He was already sliding away into the darkness away from the stairs. She shoved and pushed her way through the throng, ducking under flailing arms, kicking demons out of the way. The instant the cult members appeared, a deafening series of screams shook the walls. She could hear the murmured spells, managing to throw herself onto the floor as total panic gripped the throng. Children went running aimlessly, their eyes bulging with terror. A glance back showed the cultists calmly picking their way through the children, immobilizing them as they went.

Long blue fingers closed on her wrist and yanked her up. Fogg drug her around the corner, away from the chaos, and to an open window. He picked her up effortlessly, hanging her out the window, and then dropping her to the roof below. He slid through the opening himself, before pointing off to the east.

Hilde ducked low, quickly following the roofline until one of the small thatched cottages of the village appeared nestled against the great walls. Taking a tighter grip on the wand, she jumped onto the thatching, sliding and tumbling to the edge before falling to the ground in a heap. Pain shot through her body, but she forced herself up. Fogg pointed again, this time towards the lake and the small boathouse.

It was the rattle of a pebble that warned her, giving her just enough time to worm between the house and the stone walls before a group of black-robed cultists appeared. The torch they carried distorted their forms, making them massive and spidery. Between them they carried two children, both limp. She caught snippets of laughter as they disappeared around the bend.

"Fogg," Hilde whispered, "How many are out there?"

"Many, Misssstresss. Sssstay."

Hilde pulled her cloak up around her face, hiding her light hair. She tried to burrow further into the thatch of the walls, her eyes darting back and forth in the gloom. Her sweaty fingers squeezed tighter and tighter on the wand. Patrols continued wicking in and out of her vision, often bearing struggling or limp victims. The screams from the school above were fading, until finally they vanished. All that remained was the calm wash of the lake against the shore, and the muted rustling of the cultists still filing into Scholomance. She and her demon were alone, vastly alone, in the remains of the village.

Dawn, when it eventually came, touched the sky with leaden fingers. As the first streaks illuminated the heavens, Hilde slid from her hiding place. Her whole body shook as she scurried across the path, weaving crablike down to the boathouse. The boathouse itself was securely padlocked, but a flash from underneath the dock caught her eye. With a gulp, Hilde slid down the small embankment and landed on the sandy shore.

Three sets of panicked eyes met hers. A boy and a girl were huddled in the small fishing boat bobbing in the surf. A third child, a tall boy, was frozen in the act of pushing off.

"Were you followed?" the tall boy asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Hilde shook her head. The boy reached out and grabbed her arm, dragging Hilde into the boat. Fogg growled softly, but at Hilde's gesture floated into the craft. The tall boy grunted quietly and shoved hard, sending the vessel out into the lake before jumping in himself.

"Make your voidwalker row," he ordered. "We're going to get help from Andorhal."

Once Hilde nodded, Fogg picked up the oars and began to move, propelling the craft out into the lake. Without a word, the four cowered down in the bottom of the boat.

"Who are you?" Hilde asked. The tall boy, leaning forward to check their progress, flicked his eyes back at her.

"Gaius. This is Helena and Castor. We're mages. You?"

"Hilde. Warlock. This is my minion Fogg. How did you get out?"

"I had a brother who was taken below two weeks ago. He sent his elemental up to me last night and told me to get out. Helena and Castor are my friends. We snuck out as soon as it got dark and hid until we could get away." Gaius shivered. "I saw them gathering up the townspeople. There are worse things with them then just the Lich."

"Much worse," Helena squeaked. She and Castor shuddered and clung closer together.

Hilde turned away from them, glancing back over the waves towards Caer Darrow. In the cold grey of the early morning, everything looked peaceful and serene. Only the conspicuous emptiness of the cottages spoke to the upheaval of the night before.

The four remained quiet, as the voidwalker effortlessly rowed. The indistinct shapes of Andorhal slowly coalesced in the morning light, drawing ever nearer. They were nearly at the shore closest to the town when Fogg abruptly stopped rowing.

"What the…make him start again!" Gaius snapped, popping up to look. "We're almost there!"

"Missstresss…" Fogg echoed. "Bad."

Hilde sat up and followed the point of the voidwalker's fingers. At first, nothing seemed awry. Shapes flickered amongst the buildings, as if the villagers were heading out to start their day's activities. Yet, as they sat, the unnatural stillness became apparent. Not a single animal cried in the fields, or sang in the air. No voices punctuated the dawning of a new day.

It was a growl that broke the stillness. The four sets of eyes suddenly riveted to the figure standing in the surf, only feet away. Dimly burning eyes stared at them from a rotting frame. Tatters of clothing hung around its shape. White bone glistening from within flesh teaming with squirming maggots caught the early light. Its mouth gaped open, a swollen black tongue protruding over its teeth.

"Braiiinnsss," it hissed. From everywhere, figures began to stir. Tall, short, fat, skinny…all shapes rose from the ground, each taking up the hissing cry. They stumbled towards the shore, their rotting bodies dripping in their haste to reach them.

"Fogg, row!" Hilde screamed. The voidwalker growled in acknowledgement, already beginning the backwards pull. But it was too late. The first rotten hand grabbed the prow, sending Helena and Castor into the water punctuated by twin howls of terror. Gaius stood up, quickly firing off a flame blast to the monster's face. Swarming around the boat, numerous hands grabbed and rocked the frame, shredding the wood. Releasing the oars, Fogg grabbed Hilde's arm, launching her into the roiling water away from the creatures.

Lake water filled her eyes, shooting up her nose. Hilde gasped and thrashed back to the surface, instinctively turning towards the boat. She saw the dark shape of her voidwalker grappling with several of the monsters. Gaius was standing on what was left of boat, shooting intermittent blasts of frost and fire at the knot of monsters just on shore. Of the twins there was no sign.

Hilde coughed and dove back into the water. She released the wand, her hands moving quickly to cast the one spell that could save her. Just as she felt her lungs begin to burn, a sense of coolness moved over her body. She took an experimental breath, and felt the enchantment take hold. As long as she could keep the spell active, she wouldn't drown

She swam down to the murky bottom, her eyes nearly useless in the gloom. Dimly the thrashing continued behind her, muted by the water. Hilde began swimming away, following the hint of Andorhal's bridge shadow in the water. She paused only once, when the sharp blow in her heart told her her faithful demon had been slain.

The sun was high in the sky, though hidden by clouds, when she pulled herself from the water. Her arms burned, and for a long moment all she could do was lie on the shore and vomit up water. It was the rustling from close by that got her moving, dragging her sodden clothes up and away from the shoreline, into the weeds and rushes, and finally into the trees.

That day and night stretched into eternity. Hilde lay cowering in the brush, dug in under a pile of dead leaves near the edge of Andorhol's graveyard. More rotting creatures moved back and forth through the markers, occasionally stopping to claw at the ground. They moved without seeming to have a purpose, shambling to and fro. It was near dusk when an unfortunate raccoon appeared. The ghouls immediately chased the screaming creature down, ripping it to shreds and feasting on its quivering flesh just feet from Hilde's hiding place.

The second day dawned with stabbing pains in Hilde's belly. She hadn't eaten in a full day. She had no food, and no way to get any. Andorhal appeared completely overrun by the ghouls. She waited beneath the leaves, her mind reeling. If she stayed here, she'd die. If she moved, she'd die too.

It was nearly nightfall when she made up her mind. Shakily and slowly, she slipped out of the brush. Over the course of the day she'd heard the chattering of a stream not too far away. Moving cautiously, she crawled away from the graveyard, her eyes affixed to the shambling shapes until the curving hill obscured them.

It seemed to take hours to reach the stream, still chattering happily in defiance of all the horror surrounding it. Hilde knelt at the edge and gulped the water, feeling some of her energy return. She had just splashed some in her face when a footstep snapped her head to the left.

A figure was standing only feet away. The moonlight illuminated the missing half of its face, the bone protruding from its arms. Hilde stood shakily, her fingers grasping for the wand she'd left at the bottom of the lake. She murmured the first half of a fire curse, seeing the golden light bathe her hands. The light lit up the figure, and Hilde moaned softly.

"Gaius," she whispered. The figure tipped what was left of its head, the bloated mouth cracking open.

"Braiiinnnsss…" it hissed, lurching forward. Hilde shot her hands forward, releasing the curse. Flames immediately lit up the ghoul, and twinkled in the gloom. Hilde screamed, realizing her mistake. Figures were already appearing over the hill, drawn to the dancing flames. Hilde whirled and began to run along the river, blind panic erasing everything else from her mind.

Abruptly, light flared in the darkness. Hilde heard the clink of metal, the squeal of horses, and was grabbed by a gauntleted hand. Figures swept past her in the night, war cries shaking the nearby hills. The groans of the ghouls were cut short, as brutal thuds shook the ground.

Hilde twisted in a vain attempt to escape, but was held fast. Finally, as the figures came back into view, she quieted. They were human, all of them, riding chargers festooned with blue and gold armor. The gauntleted hand released her, as the horses surrounded her.

"What do you make of it, Captain?"

"Looks like a child from Anderhol. Amazing to make it this long."

The speaker stopped his horse in front of her, and leaned down. The moonlight glinted off of his shining armor, and the blood-encrusted mace held in his hand. But his eyes behind the helmet appeared kind. Hilde swallowed hard.

"I am from the school on Caer Darrow," she whispered. "It…"

"A blimey demon cultist!" a voice snapped from the side. "Leave the damnable thing to rot here I say. Or we should kill it, keep it from increasing the population."

The man before her frowned. "This is a child, and regardless of where she is from, the Light teaches us to safeguard children. A du Holemhein is not a child murderer, no matter what the child." He gestured at the other man, shaking his mace. "I will be responsible for her." He stretched out his other hand, offering it.

"We will take you somewhere safe, in the name of the Light I swear it."