A Wolf with a coat of Darkness – chapter 6

I do not own ASoIF/GoT or Warcaft/WoW

Rated M for everything wrong with the Cult of the Damned and the Scourge (including but not limited to cannibalism, human experimentation, murder, rape, slavery, torture, sadism)

The day was horrible.

It began early, the girl getting up before the sunrise and making sure they were ready, nerves causing them to nearly shake. Despite not really wanting to, they entered the fortress quite early and after briefly wondering what to do, they decided to attempt to get a breakfast. The gods were seemingly mocking them, for since they had arrived, there hasn't been a better day. The sky was clear, the air cool, but given how early it was, they expected for the weather to become just right.

Surprisingly, there was food in the hall, but if Sansa was to guess, it was probably from yesterday. Trying to distract themselves from what was to come, they spent a lot of time examining the food and complaining about how old it was, despite that not really been the case.

The sky was already turning red to the east when they stood outside of Feralda's place. For some time they waited, idly observing the occasional masked person going up towards their dreaded destination. When Feralda exited her home, she looked at them with annoyance, grumbling how they were not due for another hour or so. The woman became scandalized and angry that they did not have a conduit, speaking as if it was the most obvious thing in the world before sending them to get one as she headed down to breakfast.

Approaching the smithy, Sansa dreaded in her mind what else was expected for them to know, to have that no one had bothered to actually tell them of. The skeleton smith inside was another skeleton that was able to talk. Despite that, it was very straight to the point without any extra words, communicating in single words before returning to its work.

Myranda settled on a small dagger with a green crystal at the end of the handle, the handle and blade been practically the same length. Sansa in turn stood and wondered. A part of her scream at her to just pick something and get on with it, but she nevertheless remained, choosing. Her hand hovered over where the swords were nearly lined up, their dark, polished blades glinting in the dim light. As her hand clenched in the air over them, a smile crept on her features. 'Arya would have picked a sword before even seeing the rest…' Walking down the long tables lined with weapons of all kinds, she eventually reached the long wooden sticks – or staves. In the end, she picked one of them, somehow deciding it is better than having a sword or a dagger. The staff was simple, a long wooden rod with a tiny bulb on the top, a piece of cloth tied about a hand's length from the top, the whole thing about as tall as she was.

Returning to infront of Feralda's house, Sansa decided she had made a good choice when she was able to lean onto the staff as they waited, Myranda playing with her dagger next to her. Others began to arrive and wait where they were, some alone, some in groups of twos or threes, but everyone mostly keeping to themselves. The red-head noted that many did not also have conduits and briefly wondered if she should tell them, but something stopped her. Some strange, dehumanizing fear. In truth, there were no humans before her. Only hooded figures of all shapes and sizes. Seeing just how indistinguishable they all were from one another, Sansa found herself whispering to Myranda:

"Always stay close to me." To which the girl only nodded in return, her own eyes alert and scanning every little detail of everything going on around them.

Not long after, Feralnda returned and as expected, she started yelling at those without conduits to go get ones. As they scurried off to do so, the woman entered and exited the house, returning with a stack of papers. Reading the name on each paper, a student moved to receive it. When her turn came Sansa found out that this was one of the dreaded moments. Picking just what to learn.

Reanimation - Mandatory

Soul manipulation - Mandatory

Alchemy and Herbology

Plague craft

Runes

Flesh craft and Anatomy

Sorcery

Blood magic

Shadow magic

Interrogations and Torture

Infiltration and Assassination

Sansa quickly marked down all that Leopold had told her, the Alchemy, the Runes and the Sorcery, which meant she still had to pick one more. Her eyes scanned the remaining candidates over and over.

Plague craft

Flesh craft and Anatomy

Blood magic

Shadow magic

Interrogations and Torture

Infiltration and Assassination

Instantly dismissing Blood magic, she briefly wondered about the last two options before dismissing them as well. Killing and causing pain… those were not things she wished to delve in. Shadow magic did not sound particularly pleasant as well… Which meant only Flesh and Plague craft remained. The red-head remembered how on the first day she was told that everything that had happened was because of the Plague. How the plague was the Scourge and the Cult's main weapon. Which only left Flesh Craft. Images of the cultists camp on her first day, the piles of bodies and the tilted table sprung to mind.

'No, that can't be it! There must be something else!' Sansa thought to herself, running up and down the list. Her eyes kept returning to the final two. Interrogation sounded almost normal if it was not for the second half. She shuddered, her mind conjuring an image of herself, knife in hand, standing over a hapless, bound victim. The other option was not that bad, at first glance. Infiltration sounded, frankly, the easier of all subjects, but Assassination… Killing people. On Purpose. In a cold, premeditated way. 'I have already killed…and will likely do so again…' she cast a helpless look up towards the fortress on the hill above them.

She briefly looked at Myranda, who had copied the ones Sansa had marked and in turn was trying to read the rest, tracking the words with her finger. Feeling been watched, the girl looked up. In hushed whispers they began to talk.

"I really don't know!" Sansa hissed out. "All of the remaining ones are horrible!"

"What is assassination?" asked Myranda.

"To kill someone. On purpose."

"Oh…" the girl too returned to the list before her finger stopped and something as she looked up towards Sansa.

"Flesh craft." Was all she said.

"You can't be serious!" the red-head returned in shock and horror at even the thought. "We can't butcher people! We can't…" the words died in her throat.

"…it's the only one that does not involve killing."

"Yes, only body desecration!" Sansa tried to reason her companion out of it, but to her terror, the idea was growing on her. Truly, it was the only thing that did not involve killing and torture or was a dark magic. An incredibly low bar to meet, yet a bar which only one thing actually met. 'They would be already dead…' But that did not make things right! But what other choice was there.

'They would be already dead…'

"Mark it down…" Sansa whispered in defeat, Myranda sharing her hollow look.

In a few moments, they had turned in their papers and a wait ensured as Feralda retreated back into her house. What felt like hours and mere moments at the same time, the female cultist returned, handing out new papers. Receiving theirs, they saw that those were schedules. Which day, which hour, where they were supposed to be. And to their horror, their very first subject would be Flesh craft and Anatomy.

With great reluctance, they headed up the slope towards the dreaded school. It took them some time to make their way to their intended destination once inside, the dark chambers and constant distant screams of anguish distracting them on more than one occasion. Finally reaching the intended chamber, they were relieved when they found only desks with a book infront of each seat. There was a central table that stood lower, all other desks arranged in a semi-circle, but that table was thankfully empty. 'For now.' With sadness thought Sansa.

Their teacher was a strange woman. Probably the most beautiful she had ever seen, a slender figure, dimly glowing blue eyes, blond hair tied in a bun and long, long ears. Sansa briefly wondered if this was what flesh crafting actually meant, altering their own bodies, but after quickly examining the book that was provided to her, her hope was destroyed.

That day, they learned of the human skeleton, the different bones, their names, their functions and so on. The cold way with which their teacher talked almost put her at peace. There was no sadism, no sick pleasure. Just…facts? Sansa tried to quell any such thoughts and focus on studying. She felt relief wash over her when their teacher informed them that for the moment, they would be learning only anatomy, which she now knew to mean study of the body. Proper flesh craft would begin only after they had learned reanimation and soul manipulation.

They emerged from the underground it the afternoon, the sun shining high. They were both relieved and burdened. Things were worse and better than expected at the same time. Sansa looked at their schedules one last time just to make sure there was no other place they had to be. The schedule was strange. Some days they had nothing, others were dawn till dusk. Others, like today, they had only one subject.

Quickly passing to grab something to eat before there were plenty of people there, the two returned to their home on the lakeshore. Their three friends were already there, as before sitting outside in the sun, drinking. Almost subconsciously, they moved towards them, sitting down around the table. An assault of questions attacked them as soon as they sat down.

"How was it?" "What did you pick?" "How are you feeling?" Sansa remained silent for some time before answering a simple:

"Could have been worse."

"We picked Flesh craft!" said Myranda next to her. The three in turn looked at them strangely.

"Huh…Flesh craft… did not see that one coming." Mumbled Marcus into his drink.

"Yes, we were expecting like infiltration or something …maybe even interrogation…but Flesh craft?" wondered aloud Beatrice.

"Those had a second part, you know." Myranda stated in a childish offense.

"Hmm." Nodded Sansa before saying "The less killing, the better…"

"That is reasonable…but Flesh craft? Are you sure you can do it?" asked the old man.

"No!" nearly shouted Sansa, startling them all, breaking down. "Ofcourse we are not! To butcher corpses and create…things out of the remains!"

"How do you think that makes me feel? This is not right! All of it! I should not even be here!"

Sansa started shaking, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"I shouldn't be here… I should be at home, with my family. My biggest worry should be what to wear, not how to avoid getting killed while not killing anyone."

"I-I have seen more death in a week than my father has in two wars!" Marcus wordlessly places a glass of dark reddish-brown liquid before her, Sansa quickly snatching it and downing it in one go, the now familiar burning soothing her, making her come back to her senses. She vaguely noted her companion slamming a now empty glass just like hers on the table.

"You will make it." Said Marcus.

"I am not sure if I should."

"Listen… things…they will keep on going. The cult, the scourge. With or without you." He paused, taking a sip from his drink. "And they will use you, one way or another. So make peace with what you have now because many, many more did not get this opportunity." Sansa scoffed in turn.

"What opportunity? To sully our souls beyond measure?"

"To live."

'Live' came in the haunting last words of the nameless knight.

"Don't go giving up on life just yet, las. It's not your time, yet." started Leopold. "Everything that you do now, all the killing, torture, everything. That is all on them. How you come out at the end, that is on you."

"Will there be an end?" asked Myranda in a low, defeated voice. A gentle smile fell over Leopolds' face. "There will be an end. And a new beginning. There always is."

"How…how can you be so sure?"

"I am old… I saw the first war, and the second, and now the third. And each time, the world came out different. This darkness, too, shall pass."

"Damn, old man. That was…good." Said Beatrice. "A bit cheesy, but good."

The words brough some comfort to Sansa, but little. For another hour or so before the sun began to set, they remained with their companions before returning to their house. They practiced some more letters, this time Sansa trying to have Myranda actually read, though it was with moderate success at best. As the sun began to dip below the horizon and they were getting ready to light up the candles and fire, Sansa decided to explore the books that they were given for their new class. Idly flipping through, most of it was text, though occasionally, there would be illustrations of bodies. Very detailed ones. And they progressed to be ever more gruesome. Her first instinct was to shut the book, but her curiosity got the better of her. Was this… all of this… inside her? As she looked over a picture of an 'opened up' human and began reading the notes for each thing that lay within, she almost felt them inside herself. Heart, liver, lungs…

The next day, they saw their friends again as the five headed together for classes. On the way there, Sansa learned that the whole learning thing would not be that long. Three or four months, depending on what they picked. Despite herself, Sansa scoffed in her mind 'What is there to learn? Be evil. Congratulations, you are done.' Nevertheless, her heart sank when she learned that the only three friendly people there had only another week left before they were to leave.

That day, Myranda and her had their first reanimation class. Sansa was sure she missed half of the things said given that most of the time, all she was hearing was her own manic heartbeat. In the dimly-lit chamber, all the student stood in a circle around the corpse of a small dog and the red-head was unable to tear her eyes away.

The bored teacher droned on and on, constantly circling the body as he explained the different reanimation types. Only body, only soul, soul and body. That man clarified how most of the skeletons and ghouls were, infact, empty shells, they moving because of something called bone memory. The cultist explained it as the soul leaving tiny fragments behind in the very flesh and bones and the reanimation spell using them to move the skeleton instead of returning a soul. Souls were rarely used also because if one had to use a soul, most of the time they had to make sure that soul remained loyal or atleast…obedient. That word send shivers down Sansa's back yet the whole things made her relieved. Maybe, just maybe, if she was to die…she would not be used. Just maybe, she would be able to rejoin the Seven in heaven. 'If they were to take me' she mumbled to herself.

The man also explained that body reanimation was preferable to soul one because if a soul was to be used, the soul would reside in the head or heart, where as if just a body is used, that body could keep on functioning with key missing limbs, making it harder to kill. For example, it was perfectly possible to reanimation just a body, without a head. And he did so, just to prove his point. A headless skeleton arose from one of the corners, coming to stand next to the teacher, bearing a book.

So immersed was Sansa in making sure not to fail that despite herself, she raised her hand in question.

The cultist stopped and looked at her weirdly. After a moment, he nevertheless decided to humor her.

"Yes?" he drawled out, only now Sansa realizing she had actually raised her hand, horror overwhelming her. As all heads in the chamber turned to her, she swallowed hard before in a small voice asking her question.

"If..If reanimating just a body is preferable…an-and each part knows how to…move…by itself! Wouldn't it be better to…reanimate just a head? And attach it to something else?" as the silence fell, Sansa found herself embarrassed and afraid. What if she had asked something so stupid that they killed her on the spot? Nevertheless, she kept on rambling. "I mean, the head knows everything, right? Shouldn't we be reanimating just the head?" 'Shut up, shut up! STOP! THIS IS WRONG! Do not think of such things!' her inner voice screamed. The teacher remained silent for a few moments before exploding.

"Finally! Someone actually asks something intelligent! Good, good, very good!" he praised, Sansa releasing a breath despite herself. But her mind nevertheless returned to just what she had asked. This was…heretical and she had inquired about it so casually.

"Now, to answer your question. Short answer is maybe. The longer answer is that it is much, much less taxing to reanimate just a head indeed, but you cannot just attach it randomly to anything. Remember, there is no soul inside. Nor will the spell recognize whatever body you are trying to attach the head to. You will need to do additional spells or even runes to link up the head with whatever it is you are trying to attach it to."

"If you had picked Flesh crafting, you will learn this there. Having the right parts is not enough, not even nearly enough. You need to make them work together. This is why there are so few abominations."

"Good question, anyway. Very good." The man sounded please, almost happy, a sharp contrast to the bored monotone in the beginning and Sansa…Sansa found herself smiling under her mask at the praise. Of course, the good moment did not last.

"Now, line up and try to resurrect this puppy. The spell is on page three of your books. And yes, you can see the circle around it. This is a soul resurrection." As they lined up and the first student flipped though the book in frenzy, reading the spell over and over, the teacher walked up and down the lines, continuing to speak:

"While the end subject is harder to control if a soul is involved, the actual resurrection is easier. The body knows the soul and the soul knows the body. There will be almost no resistance. Given that this is just a puppy, there won't be any need to control it since it cannot harm us."

Reaching back to the beginning of the line, he almost shouted:

"Proceed!" and the cultist tried. Been in the back of the line, Sansa did not really see anything. Just a purple flash around the room for but a moment and then nothing.

"No one is expecting you to get it on the first try. But you are expected to do it by month's end. Next!"

And the lines moved ever closer to her. As her turn approached, Sansa grew ever more anxious, remembering that she actually had to learn the spell when there were only two people before her. Madly flipping through the pages, the managed to read it just in time as her turn came.

"Use your conduit to drawn the magic. Use your other hand to direct it. You guide it, not force it. The time for force will come later." She barely registered that he had said nothing to anyone else, just letting them try blindly. Instead, her eyes were focused on the thing before her. The corpse. The puppy. How it lay on its side, unmoving, tongue out, almost as if in a deep sleep. A sleep that she was about to disturb.

Taking a deep breath, she raised both her arms, her new staff clenched in her right one. She mumbled the words, hoping to actually not been able to do it, her frightened blue eyes never leaving the poor dog. Her body grew stiff, the final words of the spell dead on her lips as whisps of energy coiled around the staff and moved like snakes down her right arm. They slithered over her shoulders and chest, caressing her heart with their cold touch before moving to her extended empty left hand. Descending down from her fingertips like curtains of darkness, they dissipated before her wide eyes just as they were about to reach the dog.

Sansa remained unmoving with her arms extended, her body cold in shock from what had just happened, her skin crawling in disgust from the touch of that dark magic.

"Best so far. I would imagine next time would be a success." Idly stated the teacher next to her, snapping her out of her shock, making her look towards him. But the man had returned to the cold professionalism. "Next!"

Sansa retreated to the side all the while lost in thought. Everything before now was practice. Was cold theory. Was sitting to the side and observing. And just now, she had almost done it. She had almost brought back the dead. Almost destroyed the natural cycle and spat in the face of the gods. Vomit threated to rise in her stomach. She began to feel cold, very cold, be it from the magic itself or from the implications of what had just happened, no one knew. Another flash of light made her look up, this time been in a position to actually look at the center.

Myranda, who was the last one, stood with both arms extended just like she was, looking in shock at the very much active puppy as it wagged its tails and jumped up and down before the little girl.

"Huh…" was all the teacher said, he too observing the little creature.

"That will be all for today. Read the first two chapters before the next class. Dismissed." He said as he raised his hand, a spell forming on his fingertips.

"Sorry…" Myranda mumbled, stopping the teacher and his spellcasting as Sansa tried to make her way towards her friend over the flow of exiting students.

"Yes?" asked the man with a raised eyebrow.

"Can I…Can I keep him?"

"…You want to keep him?"

Myranda looked down at the happy dog with glowing blue eyes before looking up at the teacher.

"…Yes?" she asked, uncertain.

The man visible deflated, his shoulders slumping.

"Fine, fine. You are the only one who managed it, anyway."

"Thank you!" she nearly squealed as she picked up the dog in her arms and moved towards a disbelieving Sansa, the red-head looking between her masked friend and the happy dog in her arms. The teacher, in turn, only grumbled to himself.

"Seriously, what were those idiots thinking, allowing children in here…"

I went back and redacted a line in the first chapter about Ned been hand of the king. Maybe he will, but I want Sansa to disappear a bit earlier than the start of the show/books.

I plan to have things really speed up from here on until we leave Scholomance. I am not going to write a Harry Potter story with a detailed description of every day and every lesson.

Thank you for reading.