Through the fading haze of the magical duel, Zanien watched grimly as the mage's desiccated body burned completely away. Flaming gobbets of flesh and cloth dripped to the floor, turning to dust as they fell. Soon, there was nothing left but a scattered pile of ash and the sharp tang of smoke in the air.
He felt little satisfaction; her death represented nothing more than a waste of resources and the tying up of loose ends. He still needed to find another way to destroy the Troll. Though he regretted the thought, he realized that his young, besotted 'apprentice' was probably the next best tool for the job.
He turned away, ignoring the damaged cripple. The undead idiot had been tasked with guarding the chamber against intrusion, and had failed, even with the power that Zanien had granted him. Obviously he had succumbed to the mage's spells and had been completely incapable of dealing with her summoned demon. He would certainly be of no use at all against a seasoned warrior like Vol'jin.
He allowed his thoughts to wander to the ritual he'd have to perform to dominate Talionia's mind. The books the cripple had stolen from Undercity had definitely helped him understand such dark magics, but obviously there was a weakness in the bindings - Talemma had managed to break free at the critical moment. He couldn't afford another mistake like that.
Beside him, Tali choked out a warning. As distracted as he was, it took him a couple of seconds to realize that she had glanced over her shoulder and was staring, wide-eyed, at something behind him. His first thought was that the warrior had decided to attack them from behind. Perhaps he was angry at being discovered as such an abysmal failure. Without even looking, he waved his hand, cancelling the spell that held the idiot's shadow-legs together. That should teach him!
But there was no clattering fall of a body to the floor, and Tali was now backing away toward the door with a look of horror on her face. He wheeled around crossly, wondering what else could possibly have caused the damn girl to respond like that. It couldn't be...
Necri's consciousness coalesced in a hazy, grey-tinged world. Complete silence surrounded her. As the disorientation of her body's destruction faded, she wondered if this, finally, was death.
But no; her thoughts were clearing, and she seemed to possess a transparent, ghost-like 'body'. She floated weightlessly several inches off the floor, where Zanien's magic had held her. Her hand, brought before her 'eyes', was transparent and edged in white.
The curse still bound her. Memories from her long-ago studies automatically filled in the word for what she had become: Banshee.
More than mere ghosts, banshees were not bound to the place or circumstances of their death. They retained memories and abilities from their former lives, and could think, and move, freely. This, then, must have been what Sylvanas had become when the Lich King had torn her free of her mortal flesh. Even though she had obviously found her body again, she still called herself the 'Banshee Queen'.
Nearby, the two Elves stared in shock at her floating form. As living creatures, they seemed to Necri to be the most 'real' objects in the room, their auras bright against the grey and lifeless walls. But those auras were also tinged with foulness; damaged and corrupted by their inexpert manipulation of demons.
Truly, they had no idea what they were doing - to themselves, and to the world. It was these sorts of summoners that would soon find themselves manipulated by their former minions, eventually falling completely under the sway of the demonic forces from the Twisting Nether, and used as conduits to further infect the world with their presence.
A loud voice broke the silence; Talionia was casting a spell of summoning. The magical echoes reverberated through the spiritual realm. Immediately, a pool of darkness swirled and coalesced; an Abyssal Hunter stalked into the room, its ravenous aura sickening to behold.
With the clarity of Necri's spiritual sight, she could see how tenuous the connection from the Elf to the demon was. Yet, while that connection existed, Necri's spirit, as a being of pure mana, was very much in danger. She didn't know how being eaten by a Hunter would interact with the curse, and she had no intention of finding out.
Necri glided forward and extended her will, not against the demon itself, but against the vulnerable connection through which the Elf could control it. Tali shrieked silently and fought the intrusion, but possessed neither the power, nor the training, to resist Necri's attack.
She heard and felt Zanien cast a spell. The magic ground into her spirit-body with a shock, but it seemed to have no further effect. Still, she couldn't allow him to follow it up with something that actually worked. She increased the pressure on Talionia, until finally, she snapped the Elf's control over the Hunter and took it for her own. With the ease of long practice, Necri bound the demon to the same conditions she had used with Galarax and the others. Immediately, she pointed at Zanien and gave the creature a command: "Eat him."
The demon didn't care who controlled it, only that it was allowed to consume magic. It leapt eagerly for Zanien and tore his next spell apart. Then it began feasting on his mana, a process that caused no physical damage but was incredibly painful. That particular ability was one of the reasons that Necri had practiced with various forms of mundane, physical weaponry. Hunters could be driven off with a few well-placed blows of a sword or dagger (or scythe), but few mages ever saw the need to carry weapons outside of their arsenal of spells... until it was too late.
Suddenly, Necri realized what Zanien's spell had done. Her 'body' had begun to dissipate and dissolve. At first she thought it was simply returning to the formless ether that her mind had gathered it from, but as she watched in horror, the true nature of the spell became apparent.
It was sending her to the Twisting Nether. The endless, tortuous realm of all demonkind.
With a sudden flash of insight, Necri realized that the demons Zanien had been summoning - and poorly controlling - had probably taught him that spell specifically to use on her. They might have seized this chance to finally drag her to their world, where the curse would keep her alive and at their mercy ... for all eternity.
Desperately, she tried countering the spell with her own magic, but it had no effect. Like all of Zanien's spells, it was exceedingly well crafted.
There was one last way she could save herself; a power possessed only by the bodiless banshees. In other circumstances, she might have felt some remorse, but given the lengths the two Elves had gone to enslave and kill her, she felt no regret at all.
She would do what the Banshee Queen herself had done.
She flung herself forward with every scrap of will she possessed. Her own spells echoed loudly in her head as she chanted them.
She plunged an arm into Talionia's aura, and began to twist and pull. The girl screamed - still unheard by Necri - and fought back with her own magic, but Necri was ready to counter each of her efforts. It was a battle of wills in the truest sense; Necri's trained discipline against Talionia's raw desperation and fear.
Steadily, the two auras began to flow together. Several times, Necri was almost pushed back by the Elf, but she hung on grimly. As much as Necri's magical power far outclassed Talionia's, the aggressor in this process was at a serious disadvantage; tearing a soul free of its body was a momentous task.
Slowly, while Necri felt her form continuing to disintegrate, the two spirits coiled around and through each other in a lovers' embrace.
Sensing the end rushing toward her, feeling herself being dragged away to the Nether, she gave one final push. Her will was exhausted; every last reserve of strength gone.
Darkness overcame her.