This'll be it for a little bit...because I'm currently suffering writer's block. Woe is me. I have to push through this scene I'm locked out of right now in this story, and then the updates shall continue! Don't worry, it won't take that long. =]

Things are getting intense. I said last chap was a filler. So here's the good stuff.

Forsaken

Book Four, Part One

Maybe Zen knew me better than I thought, I mused as I dutifully threw on my pants and blouse. My armor was still ugly compared to Zen's, although at least now it matched somewhat. Shoulders, chest, boots, wrists, even gloves for my hands. But what I hated most was the helmet Zen had gotten me.

It was decent looking, as far as lightweight helmets were concerned, but I couldn't stand how it set on my head.

My hair had to be put up, or Zen would grumble. Helped the whole 'incognito' effect, he would argue. But the bun caused the helmet to set funny, so that the crown of my skull hurt under pressure but the lower half hung loosely.

"I can barely see in this," I hissed one time. Did Zen even pretend to hear the complaint? No.

And why? Because one, it protected my head, a vital part of my body, so they tell me. And two, it was a lot harder to infer that I was female. He made sure my chest piece now produced a similar result.

So, now I only looked like a scrawny, pre-pubescent boy instead of a woman. Charming.

My daggers I had since my training with Aradar sat loyally at my hips as I trotted down the steps. Zen changed into clothes more casual.

We met the other two at SI:7. Cole, I realized once we arrived, was the rogue I had often seen hanging around Zen. Especially the night I was playing hide-and-go-seek with Aradar. When Zen and I walked into the room, his face lit up with a smirk. "Zen, Grace!" He welcomed us as if we were all good friends. He had dark hair, almost black, which acted as a sharp contrast against Zen's platinum blonde. His apprentice, Robert, was brown-haired, but just as tall as his teacher. Robert's brown eyes were emotionless, concentrating on the world around him.

Which were different from Zen's, I mused, so suppose Zen did actually have real feelings…

"Grace, this is Robert," Cole mentioned, motioning towards his pupil. I mustered a smile as I shook the boy's hand, but pulled away quickly when I realized the boy really didn't care for the socialization.

"How's he doing, Cole?" asked Zen as the pair of them pulled slightly away. I sighed, realizing that it only meant Robert and I were supposed to chat.
He didn't seem the type to make small talk.

"He's strong. Determined. Takes it very, very seriously."

I heard Zen chuckle, catching my full attention as well as Robert's. "Well, these two should be a perfect balance, then." My eyebrow rose, and Robert tried to hide a scoff.

And after that moment, I decided that I would do everything in my power to prove my worth to the pair. For me, yes—but also for Zen.

He had more confidence in me than anyone else, including me.

After a bit more conversing, Zen seemed comfortable enough to let me loose with the other two. He gave me a good pat on the armor on my shoulder before walking off, probably to mope in his house.

Without any inflection whatsoever, Robert explained our mission. Only one other rogue, whose name escapes me, would come along. It was another typical task given to us by SI:7.

I could say after our first mission together that Robert was very skilled. It didn't take a professional to know the boy meant business. That didn't deter my effort though—I was always right behind him, ready to pounce like a cat.

Since they weren't necessarily my quests, I acted more as backup like the other rogues. Robert seemed to like that submission.

We were always dealing with Undead. Forsaken beings. But as the weeks progressed, it wasn't hard to observe that the things were getting more developed, advanced.

A couple of times I had to make up for a silly error of Robert's. No one ever mentioned the fact. One time, on our third mission together, we were sent to completely extinguish an Undead camp off the Western Plaguelands. It was only a camp of about a dozen of the Undead. It would have been much easier if Robert had processed the situation a bit more.

It was dark, so Robert, being the arrogant little rogue he was, decided to stealth through the camp of six tents. It's too bad that Undead, naturally, are a lot better at detecting an inexperienced rogue. Of course, I could have been a bit biased—I always had a natural knack for staying hidden.

He crept through, right between these six tents, attempting to sneak up on a pair that were sitting aimlessly at a campfire. Even Cole looked anxious as three of us looked on. My hands remained clenched on my daggers.

I felt the Undead soldier's cold aura darken before Robert even knew he had been spotted. I cursed, not even bothering to make sure they were following when I sprinted towards Robert.

The skeletal figure hissed at Robert, then drawing his sword and swinging it back for a lethal blow. "Damn it!" I growled in a low rumble, tossing a pair of throwing daggers at the skeleton. Of course, it wasn't enough to kill, but at least he was able to stagger back in surprise, effectively saving Robert's head.

The other watchman now turned, immediately meeting Robert in the eye. Robert, now fully aware that he was vulnerable, took his stance.

And so, four of us were responsible for killing the dozen or so Undead with as much speed and silence as possible. It was done, of course, but it would have been a lot easier if the boy I was stuck with wasn't bigheaded.

I told him so after that night. "Way to go," I muttered, wiping some blood off of my neck. "What were you thinking?" I asked as the four of us left the camp swiftly. Our horses were over the hill.

"I had them! Then you barged in!" he seethed.

My aura flared. "No." I stopped, turning on the boy with a flash. "No. He spotted you long before I stepped in. You didn't sense that? That you were completely open?"

"I wasn't!"

"You barged in there, not bothering to use your skills," I growled. "We could have taken out each tent one by one easily!"

"I was hidden!" he defended. "I still had the upper hand!" I glared.

"Please. You were being reckless. What happened to your distractions? Your vanish? We could have had them ambushed without a blink-"

"Okay, you two," Cole warned with little emotion. "Let's just get out of here."

"B-" I bit my lip. Cole was the teacher on these missions, and a command from him was equal to one from Zen. So I said no more as we rode swiftly towards Ironforge.

On the way home from my third mission with the pair, Cole actually began to make light conversation with me. "How is Zen's training?" he asked.

I smirked. "Good. He's a good teacher."

"Well, he's definitely passionate about what he's doing with you," Cole surmised. I frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I give him details about how you're doing with us," he explained as we trotted along. That made sense, since I couldn't see Zen comfortable with being completely in the dark about my progress. "He asks questions. Makes sure you're improving."

I paused, curious. "Do you think I'm doing well?"

He chuckled. "There's no doubt about that, Grace. Don't worry." Smiling, I noticed how Robert seemed to go rigid in his saddle. It only widened my grin. "Zen has definitely done very impressive work with you. Sometimes I grow curious as to where his fixation on you came from."

Fixation? My face contorted in thought. Since when was I considered a 'fixation?'

"He's been…" He breathed. "Dare I say it…happier? Since he's trained you."

My lips puckered. Could rogues be happy?

"Well, then I'm glad. At least he's happy." Cole suppressed a chuckle, and the conversation was dropped.

Returning to Zen was always a good feeling. Even through these times that I had been away from Zen, I had known he was safe within the walls of Stormwind, I still missed him. Good evidence if Zen wanted to prove my heart missed him, not my senses.

He'd always interrogate me, and I'd always begrudgingly explain to him every detail I could possibly imagine. Including the moments Robert would slip up, leaving me to cover his senseless behind.

Zen would merely smirk. "You're better than you thought you were."

By day five, Zen was fairly confident with my abilities in this trio. "You're doing well, I hear," he said as we sat at the dining table.

"Its hard to excel when there's a fellow rogue trainee that only wants me to fail," I grumbled. I was always claiming Robert was out to kill me, in order to quicken his initiation into SI:7. Zen would merely chuckle.

"Well, I hear you're great. And I have no doubt that you are," Zen said. "You're initiation isn't far away, Grace. Keep this up, and by the time these stitches come out," he smirked, "you won't have any need for me."

It was day six of Zen's stitches, and the fourth mission the three of us would be performing together. Once Robert got his mission from Officer Jared, he climbed down the stairs with a grin. "This one's going to be good," he announced, holding up the scroll as if it would defend his statement.

"Why?" I asked.

"This one requires three other reserves to accompany us, and Officer Jared specifically stated it was urgent and to be treated seriously."

I smirked, my fingers flexing in my palms. "Good."

The others met us in no time, and we set off shortly after noon. It would take until nightfall to reach the Plaguelands.

We rode in silence, except for Robert's explanation of the mission. Apparently, the man I had murdered eons ago that was a known tool of the Scourge was only beginning of research the Scourge had instigated. They were experimenting with new ideas, new poisons, new weapons, and SI:7 wanted the head intellects responsible knocked out as soon as possible.

Our target went by the name Clad. He was Undead, a Forsaken, who was working with potions and poisons to aid the Scourge's attack. We didn't have many details about his work other than they must be stopped. He was a mage in the past life, and his talents hadn't faded in his rise to undeath.

He was our prime target, but it was a near guarantee that he'd be guarded.

The cave was very hidden—we nearly missed it in our travels. Silently we crept closer to the mouth of the cave, weary of anything that may prove to be a challenge. Under the cover of complete darkness, we had the advantage.

Robert crept in first, as was normal. I followed right behind—Cole had understood after our first mission that I had a talent for sensing. I was the eyes of the entire group. "I sense several," I whispered. "They're farther ahead. Keep your guard up."

Six rogues could handle seven, eight. I didn't have any doubts about this mission.

When we did arrive at the heart of the layer, it was much like the catacombs incident. Books were littered everywhere. Herbs were sitting on a far table, and the center table carried many tubes and beakers meant to hold toxic liquids.

There were eleven guards for this thing. Clad, our target, was donned in purple rags as he tittered with numerous bottles of colorful potions at the table.

We took a few hesitant steps forward. Reading Clad's aura, I sensed a feeling of alarm well within him. My arm shot out, holding Robert back in warning.

He was always going straight for the kill. What were we to do about the eleven others? Hope they didn't hear us slit their keep's throat?

But once again, Robert's eagerness proved to be a hindrance. He spun around, his silence damaged, as he batted my arm forcefully away. With shocked eyes, I tried to convey the surprise I couldn't verbalize. Was he that small-minded, when eleven monsters were merely feet away ready to pounce on any sign of a breech?

Robert's movement no doubt caused a stir in one of them, because a feral growl erupted from behind him. I shook my head, still amazed at how little Robert knew with how much experience he had.

A sharp inhale broke my searing glare on Robert. Clad still had his back to us, but his body grew stiff as if he was a cat sensing danger. "Yess," he hissed. "I smell visitorss." He spun around all-too-quickly, and his eyes landed directly on the two of us. "Guards!" he growled. "Extinguish these ssilly humans!"

All eleven of them stumbled to Robert and me, and all of a sudden we were at a disadvantage. My daggers were drawn, ready to strike, but too many were ready to pounce on us. The other four rogues were behind us, also ready, but they hadn't been detected yet. If they could only stay hidden until we had a fair element of surprise…

One guard managed a good slash at Robert, and he dodged; but Robert, of course, ended up barreling into me. I hit the left wall, my helmet the only prevention from a cracked skull. Before we could suffer any casualties, however, Clad hissed, a bony hand lifting up as he stood rigid in place. It must have been a form of communication between him and the guards, because the hulking skeletons stopped in their place, effectively confusing all five of us. We were highly outnumbered, though, so a halt on the Undead's part meant we were still as well.

His tongue was like a snake's: it flickered in the air, as if he was smelling with it. Then, if it was possible for a Forsaken being, he grinned. "Bring that rogue forward," he articulated, a white finger landing on me. I pulled myself up off the wall, ready to fight back, when I realized there were three of them coming to apprehend me. If I were to attack now, our fight was as good as lost.

"No!" I screamed as sharp claws latched at my upper arms. I attempted to pull away from six iron-clad grips, but it was pointless. My daggers fell from my grips, the metal clinking against stone floor as my two weapons skittered away.

"Make sure that boy doesn't go anywhere," Clad added as an after-thought. Without hesitation there were two others holding Robert in place.

I sensed Cole rushing forward, attempting to break out of hiding, but I growled a "No!" toward the back of the cave, effectively stopped him in mid-pace.

I was so powerless within the arms of my captors that my legs were merely skimming the stone below me. Kicking didn't do much good either, I noted, since my legs weren't even long enough to reach any sort of appendage near me.

"Let me go!" I shrieked. The look in Clad's eyes as I was brought forth promised nothing good on this end of the bargain. Finally, I was right under his glare, panting and wincing at the claws now sinking into my skin.

"Remove the helmet," he began, watching as it was forced off of my head none-too-gently. My hair came loose; it fell to my shoulders, the sweat on my forehead now meeting cold air. "And…the chest piece," he added.

"No!" I repeated, again trying to pull out of the arms of three monsters. Nothing good could come of these orders. The armor was easily cut loose though, leaving my cloth shirt as the only line of defense. I was so vulnerable, such an easy target now, that I wondered why the rogues who came with me were still here, watching me get prepared for death.

Clad paused a moment, tongue looming over my body, sensing something. Then he inhaled, nose burying itself in my hair. I loosed a growl so feral I had initially thought it was of Undead origin. "How interesting…you survived the bite of an Undead," he purred. I tried to pull away from his face. His breath was unbearable, and his voice alone caused me to writhe away. "I'm curiouss…"

He turned quickly, giving me a moment to breathe, but came back with a bottle of liquid in his hand. "This is a synthetic reproduction of what was once coursing through your body," he explained. The liquid was a brilliant purple, seemingly so harmless in the round bottle it was contained in. "It's more or less…Undead venom." My eyes widened in panic, landing on the bottle unwillingly. "Of course, it's unnatural, so I've been tweaking its effect on the body." His eyes darkened into a crimson, teeth seemingly sharper as he grinned menacingly. "And I'm curious as to its effect…on ssomeone with such a bite. The process could sspeed up, or magnify…"

"Don't come near me with that thing," I growled, still locked in place. "I'd rather die than become a Forsaken such as you."

"Aw, don't be so disapproving so fasst," he cooed. "Your face is far too pretty for the white pallor of an Undead. This gas has different effectss from its counterpart. Your skin won't gray, and your insidess won't rot." A deep chuckle escaped the remains of his throat. "But you will belong to the Scourge."

"I belong to the Alliance," I stated.

"First," he piped, tossing the bottle carelessly up and down in his hand. "It works on cutting off your senses. Cuts you off from your world. And then, it reprograms them, for our world. You'll be a puppet, and your sstrings will be the Scourge's."

He drew in closer, my head crooning back in an attempt to stay away from contact. I realized that he was explaining this so willingly because he didn't think there'd be any consequence. Clad expected no other survivors. And what would become of me?

I shuddered, mind whirling at the thought of our near future. "The Scourge will not control me," I seethed.

Clad cackled, his head cocking back with the action. Then he bent over towards me, potion inches from my face. "That's a fascinating hypothesis," he hissed. "Would you care to test it out?" He drew back. "Perhaps your little friend would like to watch before we end his life. Or, maybe I'll have my new puppet do the dirty work for me."

"Nobody touches him."

"Ssoon you will be oursss," Clad purred, his cold fingers grazing my chin. The statement seemed tainted with a hunger for something other than blood. "And then you'll be more than willing to draw human blood."
My jaw locked, preventing me from growling any more lashes that would propel the encounter to whatever demise waited me.

"It may be a bit painful," he announced with a fake sigh of pity. "But if this gass is as lethal as I sssurmount, than the means definitely justify the endss."

"All talk but no walk," I snarled.

Clad grinned, and before I could even sneer in defiance, the bottle was falling from his grip. "Oops," he gasped.

"Help her!" It registered to be Robert's voice, but I no longer was paying attention to anything except that glass bottle, tumbling slowly to the floor.

It made contact with the hard surface below us, the glass exploding out of its shape and scattering across the floor. The liquid portion bubbled, an acid sizzling as it contacted solid. But that wasn't what scared me—what wasn't liquid had become a gas, a deep violet color, that was slowly rising from the mess below me. Out of fear of the unknown, I fought against anything that was rooting me in place. My legs thrashed, my arms tensed, my shoulders tried to gain any leverage possible on the monsters surrounding me; but it meant nothing. In no time the gas had risen to my eye level, and the agony hit me all at once.

A scream flooded out of my mouth, my eyes burning through a purple film as I was forced to gaze at the monster who had done this to me. The pain was too great, forcing my eyes to close in reflex.

My shoulder felt as if it was being branded repeatedly, a rod held on it at maximum temperature. The fire quickly shot through my entire body, my skin feeling as if it was melting from the inside-out.

The guards had released me at some point—I felt another pain, although not at all comparable to the fire within my body, shoot through my knees. My last worry was a bit of glass shards digging into my skin. I collapsed, hands landing on the ground as well with a pierce of discomfort.

My body began to shake, the unbearable sting now concentrated at my eyes and shoulder. I was absorbed in utter pain, unable to even force my eyes open.

Auras flared around me. The other rogues must have acted, because roars of anger were close to drowning out my spurts of screams. My right hand flew to my bite marks, willing my dull fingernails to rip the foreign scar out of my skin. It did no good. I was still floored with indescribable suffering, my screams my only mocking comfort.

I wasn't sure how long had passed before I felt a freezing hand touch my back. I shrieked, not knowing if the presence behind me was friend or enemy.

It scared me, I could process through the pain, that I couldn't sense anything like I used to. "Grace." Cole's voice. I could still hear, still feel the shards of glass below me as my fingers coiled at odd angles, my mind's attempt at willing them to relax.

"Leave her," Clad hollered, "she'll be ourss in time. Let them keep her awhile."

I gasped for air, my throat as inflamed as the rest of my internal structure, and it was starting to hurt when I groaned. But my terror couldn't be released in any other way—momentarily I could only flashback to that man a week ago, moaning loudly and unable to control himself…

"We need to hearth her out of here." I whimpered as who I thought to be Cole turned me onto my back, the crunch of glass apparent beneath me.

"Make it stop," I begged. I felt sweat as it formed on my forehead, on my neck, along my lower back.

"That might compromise the mission…" Robert's voice. I meant to growl at the boy, but it only surfaced as another scream.

"She's going to turn if we don't get her treated immediately," Cole explained coolly. "One hearth to Stormwind isn't going to give off too much suspicion."

I was still writhing in pain beneath their conversation. I had yet to open my eyes, they burned so bad. At that point, I would have opted to gouge them out had the offer been there.

Kill me, I wanted to scream. End this. But I couldn't shape my mouth to those words. I couldn't give up on myself that easily.

My legs were bent in odd angles below me, arms above me in the same fashion. Something was placed in my hand, warm to even my touch. "Grace, it's your hearthstone. You have to hold on to this, okay?"

"I can't…"

Can't what? My thoughts pushed through thickets of pain, attempting to process anything past the waves of stimulus coursing through my body.

"You hold this, Grace, or you die," Cole insisted. His hand left mine, probably to get his own stone, leaving my shaking hand to fend for itself.

My crooked fingers acted as a cage around the stone. I kept the hearthstone close to my chest, hoping that in the event the pain grew too intense and my fingers flexed that it would remain on top of my body.

I shook, the intensity in my shoulder so great that it was almost too exhausting to even acknowledge it. It felt like eternity passed us as I waited for the hearthstone to take effect.

Before that moment I had never been transported. The torment my body was undergoing before the stone was one hundred times more intense during the transport. My body felt disjointed, twisted, meshed together incorrectly.

I was screaming again when the city sounds of Stormwind sifted to my ears. Utter pain, immeasurable agony…

Cole scooped me up into his arms. I had no idea where we had materialized, and I still was unable to open my eyes. My muscles seared with every movement, but my body's reaction to the burning within was to twist away, try to escape the affliction.

"I'm taking her to the hospital," Cole spoke too loudly. "Go get Zen and Brae. Go!"

"C-c-"

Cole flew to the hospital. I was jostled every which way, but it was of little difference when placed in the same realm of the flames consuming my body.

I felt the soft surface of a bed beneath me, notifying me that we had reached the hospital. Words flew out of Cole's mouth, so fast that I couldn't concentrate on their meanings. I laid there, gasping, for who knows how long.

And I didn't sense Zen's presence when he arrived. The only reason I knew he was there was because in a panicky voice he demanded to know what was going on. More mumbles. I was panting, still searching for some form of comfort. It only grew worse with effort. My fingers had latched onto the soft sheets below me, twisting and pulling on the fabric. "Z…Zen," I managed to moan. "Zen," I repeated, a bit more convincingly.

He was at my side in no time, his hand moving on top of one of my own that was so disfigured the joints ached. It felt a bit better, and my other hand raised, searching for a face that was so familiar…

His hand led my palm to his cheek. I moaned, the pain still not anywhere near tolerable as my shoulder felt smelted to the bed below me. "Zen, make it stop," I begged. "It hurts…so much…"

"We're trying," he croaked, sounding as vulnerable as I felt. Cold tears were pooling beneath my eyes, a momentary relief to a fire that wouldn't subside. I could hear Cole's whirling voice, still trying to explain to Zen and Brae what had happened.

"Her bite?"

I gasped, a shriek getting caught in my throat as a spike of torture left me breathless. "Grace," Zen prompted, his hand resting on my cheek. "Grace, look at me."

"I can't," I choked. "I can't open my eyes…"

"Grace." Zen's voice pinched off, a pain in his tone that I immediately caught. "Grace, your eyes are open…"

My body shuddered, ears ringing.

"N-no," I mumbled. I saw black. Darkness. My eyes couldn't possibly…

My shaky hand that had been beneath Zen's touch now rose, every particle of my arm enflamed with resistance as it moved. The hand that belonged to me hovered over my face, then two fiery fingers lingered below my eyes, attempting to feel the lashes. My throat moaned in hesitation at the effort to concentrate, to push through pain and will something into action, but I held my fingers steady.

I tried to blink. The lashes of my eye fanned against my tender fingers. A wail of disbelief rang in my throat, causing another searing wave to grip me. "No. Nono…" My fingers peeled at my eyelids, clearly lifted off my eyes, and I still saw nothing. Zen's face was nowhere in my line of vision, only black.

"I'm blind!" I screamed. My hands, now at the will of my anguish, crashed into the sheets below me, effectively pulling my chest forward in a lurch. I assumed it to be Zen's arm that wrapped across my stomach, holding me in place before I could do real damage.

I squirmed in the constraints of the bed, the shock, pain, and disbelief pushing my body past its limit.

"Get her under control, Zen! You're the only one that can!"

Zen's hand was back on my cheek. I tried to force myself away, keep everyone as far away from me as possible, but his arm was still bracing my stomach. "Grace, I've got you," he whispered gently. "Please relax, please…"

"It hurts," I forced through clenched teeth, frustrated that no one understood the magnitude of pain I was suffering.

"Talk to me, Grace," Zen soothed.

I whimpered through my teeth, wishing to look into Zen's eyes and understand what he was thinking, or sense what he was feeling. "I can't see," I began weakly. "I can't sense anyone's aura here. It's…" I gasped, body rigid as a new blast of fire burned through my body. "It's starting. It's starting…"

"The transformation," Cole whispered. Sobs erupted, sending jolts of pain through my chest.

"Oh, no," came Brae's voice as Zen's fingers massaged my temple. "Cole, do you know anything of what's caused this?"

"Clad described it…I can repeat everything I heard…"

A door shut, meaning the pair of them probably left to ponder on whatever was tearing me up from the inside-out.

Zen's fingers lifted, his arm loosening around my stomach, and I groaned my dissatisfaction. "What?" he asked.

"Don't leave me," I begged, reaching out for his arms once more.

"I haven't moved, Grace."

"Wh…" My hand flew to my stomach, where something must have been clinging onto my waist. "I…I can't…feel…The pain is leaving…"

Zen tried to hide the pain in his voice as a crack of shock broke through his throat. "Stay with me, Grace. Please."

"If I turn," I whispered now, my throat was so weak, "you'll destroy me," I begged.

"Don't ask me-"

"They can't take me!" I roared. "I belong t-to," I had to pause to catch my breath, it was terribly difficult to find the will to even inhale. "I belong to the Alliance. They can't t…take me."

I could hear Zen's breath as it drew closer to my ear, though I couldn't feel its warmth graze my neck. "They're not going to take you," he articulated, the urgency in his voice so pure that it sounded like a promise he wouldn't go back on.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I think I screamed, or cried, or something—but I couldn't hear it. Couldn't feel it.

My senses had shut down, and I was left completely alone in the depths of my mind. At first, my only thoughts were of death, of accepting it. I could be satisfied with my life if I would die now. If I could die honorably. If Zen would at least let me part with dignity still intact.

That was all I asked for myself.

I wished that Mother would take the news well. That Lucas would live on, to prove to her that she hadn't lost her entire family to the Scourge.

It wasn't too bad, succumbing to the blackness within my subconscious. The pain couldn't break through the barrier between me and reality—it was left outside, with my body. Briefly I wondered if my body was still suffering, still shuddering at invisible flames that had been threatening my sanity.

But I surmised that it didn't matter at this point. Maybe I was dead already. Were these the final moments, after the body dies but before the brain stops functioning?

I hoped Dennis would forgive me. Understand that it wasn't my plan to end my future or ruin his.

And Zen. He could move on. He'd find another recruit, with just as much talent as his previous. Perhaps find a girl who could adore him as much as I had.

Silly, petty thoughts I could will but not enforce.

I waited for everything to end. I waited.

Finally, the blackness flashed, the first change I had witnessed.

You are close to finished.

My mind was incapable of feeling, but if I could pinpoint an emotion to what rushed over my conscience at that moment, it would have been fear.

Whoever was now in my head, it wasn't good. It was the other side. The Scourge. The process was still going on.

Why. Wasn't. I. Dead.

Who was permitting this in the outside realm? Who was letting this thing take over my mind? It would start here, work through my every sense until I was completely turned, completely different.

Completely evil.

Leave me alone. Let me die.

Having you die will not help our cause. Your mind has proved very powerful. Very…precious…indeed.

Kill me. Somebody kill me. Could I will myself from the inside to kill myself? Was that possible at this point?

You are nearly turned. Nearly mine…

You won't take me. They won't let you.

A midnight blue color crept into my mind, replacing the blackness. If I could growl, I would have. No. It wouldn't happen. Zen and the others wouldn't allow it.

From the distance, a cackle echoed.

And then a figure, fuzzy and morphed at odd angles, materialized in my head. His armor was bulky, sword an icy blue as it pointed at me.

You are to be under Arthas' control.

I wanted to pound at something, bang loudly and break through whatever was becoming of me. But how was I supposed to break out of my own conscious?