Chapter 8: A Lesson in Damnation (Part One)

Jaina is given two days of bed rest before her 'chamber maiden' kicks her out of bed. Deathwhisper leads her to a small dining hall if one can even call a few tables and a cultist slaving over a cauldron giving out some kind of mush a dining hall. It's even more tasteless than what was being served back on the ship while they were crossing seas. She has a hunch good food is one of the many things that are going to no longer be in common. Or at least, the bottom of the Cult wouldn't have any, so it's her reality.

Her eyes flicker around the room, not lingering on hooded figures, pale faces, or the rotting dead. The smell makes her want to retch when paired with eating. Worse on her stomach is the lack of her Prince. Where is Arthas? She doesn't know what she's going to do when she sees him; scream herself hoarse, sob on him, hit him with a fireball, or just... she doesn't know. She does want to see him though... to see if there is anything left of her prince...

That damned blade stole his soul again, last time all of what had been between them had been the locket. Now...? She doesn't know... still...

"Where is Arthas?" she asks Deathwhisper quietly.

The woman doesn't look up from her bowl. "Receiving training as a Death Knight of the Scourge, as you will be starting your training as a Necromancer today."

Her stomach twists at that, while part of her magic hungers for it. She hates the vile feeling infesting her magic, the taint. She does not know how they shifted parts of her magic from a more pure arcane focus into necromantic and shadow. The ritual is not one known to her, certainly nothing that came up in interrogating the Cult of the Damned. Sneaky bastards slipping around their questions...

Deathwhisper tilts her head briefly, eyes trailing up Jaina's arms. "Though I imagine you will also be receiving lessons in shadow magic, necromancy is what your focus has been decided upon."

Jaina frowns. "Aren't Necromancy and Shadow magic under the same field?"

Deathwhisper turns her head away from her food to eye Jaina thoughtfully. "To an outsider's perspective, yes, they might not differentiate the intricacies of the two fields of magic, but the truth is no. There are parts of these magics that may overlap, such as a simple shadow bolt for example. But, while Necromancers may tap into the shadow, their magic is, primarily, death. Where Shadow Magic employs its power from the void. A Warlock, for example, is most certainly not a Necromancer, even if both types they may dabble here and there with each other's power."

She tilts her head back. "From your perspective, it would be like saying elemental magic and arcane are the same thing since parts of them overlap or can do the same thing. Both can conjure fire and lightning and ice, but the actuality behind that power differs. "

Jaina wrinkled her nose, she's dealt with enough idiots making that comparison before. "Okay, I get that. Shamanism and Druidism are asking the aid of the elements, or of nature itself or certain spirits, not morphing arcane power to your will. While one can try to make the comparison with Fel energy being morphed into a similar framework as the arcane, and technically speaking it is arcane magic, just heavily corrupted to the point it might as well be a different field altogether. A mage trying to use the arcane for a spell, and then using offered Fel energy, will have disastrously different results after all."

Deathwhisper stares at her with unguarded interest. "I see what our Lord means. You have an impressive knowledge-base and understanding of magic one your age should not have. I'm very curious, when and where did you encounter not only Fel energy, but druidism? I can guess with Orcs for shamnism, but not the other two."

She gave her a sly look. "Unless you've dabbled with warlocks before, hmm?"

Jaina winced and shut her mouth. Stupid. Absolutely stupid. Only a brief moment of letting her guard down for an academic conversation and she'd let slip far too much.

"I am curious myself, where you learned the strange mixture of magics that you wield," mused the Lich King, "Answer."

Jaina says nothing.

"Answer."

Jaina winces at the mental pressure, but says nothing.

Deathwhisper sighed. "Our Lord gave you the chance to answer willingly, you bring this on yourself."

The Lich King burrows into her mind, and Jaina gasps in pain, slamming her head facefirst into the table as her body spasms. He digs and digs and digs through her memories...

Then he pauses at the lock.

She feels icy, vile hands caress the chains binding her memories of the future, of anything she should not know or that hasn't happened yet. Fingertips trailing along her mind that send goosebumps down her spine. She has never wanted something to get away from her as much as she does the Lich King's touch. It's beyond violating...

"You are a very, very, clever little archmage," muses the Lich King, "And a very foolish one."

It takes her a moment to realize he is speaking through Deathwhisper again, she raises her head to see the woman's eyes had turned a glowing malicious blue. "What would you do if I broke that lock on your memories, I wonder?"

"Go insane," Jaina answered honestly, "Which is the point, the intention behind it. Destruction of memory, descending into madness."

The Lich King twists Deathwhisper's face into a feral grin. "And as such, how could I trust whatever it is that I find? As I said, you are a very clever little archmage, yet I wonder, why do you think I would find this result unacceptable? I do not need you sane to puppet your flesh."

"You've made your intentions towards Arthas plain," gritted out Jaina, "You wanted him to take up the blade, willingly."

He doesn't react, merely watching her.

She lies through her teeth. "I don't know why his willing servitude matters to you, but it does. I have few weapons I can use against you, but that is one of them. You destroy me, you lose any chance of his willingness."

The Lich King throws back Deathwhisper's head and laughs as if her calling him out means nothing. "Oh little Archmage, so pointlessly defiant. It is rather amusing to see you struggle so."

"Really?" she drawled, "You seemed furious about it when I marched on Icecrown."

He levels his cold gaze back down on her. "At that time, you were a foe who aimed for the heart of the Scourge. Had Lordaeran and the Kirin Tor marched with you, I held doubts if we could have held since the demons stole away a large number of my warriors, and that suspicion was formed prior to seeing your true might, and your technique... oh yes, you are already almost as powerful as some of my strongest champions. Take pride Proudmoore, in that for a moment, you were a worthy and legitimate threat to the Scourge."

He sneers at her. "Now, you are a servant, a treasured prize, and it does not matter if you defy me. Your soul is bound to me, Proudmoore, infused with death itself by my will, much like the young Prince. You will only ever die if I so command it, and thus, I have all eternity to discover your secrets. I am patient, and I will win. One day, you will kneel to me willingly, in devotion to the Scourge, and tell me without prompting. It does not matter if it is tomorrow or in a thousand years, you will one day champion me. After all, your service is eternal."

Jaina clenches her fists, shaking with fury and helplessness, but says nothing. There IS nothing to say.

He makes a derisive sniff. "You also undervalue your own worth, Proudmoore. You are correct that I would rather the Prince serve willingly, but your own worth weakens if you descend into madness, and you are far too valuable to a prize to waste. Now... eat your sustenance, foolish little archmage, there will be many a time you won't have the chance."

The blue glow fades out of Deathwhisper, and the cultist shudders as she regains herself, rolling her shoulders, and resumes eating.

Jaina waits for the focus on her to fade before she lets her thoughts carefully free. The Lich King is an arrogant prick. What he said is terrifying in theory, but in reality, how long will the Scourge last? She only need to hold out until the Lich King perishes, one way or another. Or until she dies in a way he can't reanimate. She will never let him use her knowledge of what is to come. With that in mind, she recognizes that damage control is the best she can do until Illidan does his crazy scheme to try to destroy the Lich King.

She scoffs at herself. Damage control. Really? Once her and Arthas have been 'trained', Lordaeron is going to turn into a bloodbath. It would be even worse than last time with her enslaved to the Scourge. Even more dire, without her to pave the way... was... was anyone going to flee to Kalimdor? Would ALL of Lordaeran fall this time? The Kirin Tor? Would any of Quel'Thalas survive?

She swallows thickly with sudden dread.

Can... can Hyjal be won if there are only Orcs and Night Elves there to defend? If they lost and Archimonde won... not only would the chance of her world defeating the Legion be undone, but with the power boost the demon lord would get from consuming the World Tree... could any other world in creation handle that?

This is why time should never be messed with.

Jaina has never felt so small as she did when she realized she might have doomed all of creation in her selfish desire for another chance at life.

She swallows thickly at that, not liking the way Deathwhisper tracks the bob down her throat. She needs... she needs to think. She needs time to think. There has got to be some way to still salvage things. Hyjal is her primary focus, the Scourge can wait till after.

"What," said Jaina quietly, "Can you tell me about the demons?"

Deathwhisper hummed. "Perhaps another time Proudmoore, finish eating unless you wish to cast on an empty stomach."

Wouldn't be the first time. But, she takes the hint and shovels the goop down. Deathwhisper leads her out after, down several hallways, and into a disgusting room filled with animal carcasses, ranging from rats to bears, laid out on slabs. Standing there at the center of the room is...

"Welcome Acolyte Proudmoore," comes Kel'Thuzad's casually smooth voice, a sardonic smile on his face, "To Necromancy one-oh-one."

She has the burning desire to punch him.

He flicks his wrist and casually conjures a desk before levitating a notebook from somewhere in the room over to lay on it. "The first few hours of your lessons will be devoted to anatomy. While a perfect understanding is not necessarily necessary, you are not going to be a feckless neophyte. Your creations, your reanimations, will be nothing so... base nor botched. By the time your training in Northrend is done, you will be reanimating at a level close to mine."

She scowls at him.

He smiles thinly. "It's not negotiable."

He motions to the desk. "Sit."

When she doesn't move he sighs and rolls his eyes, "Proudmoore, you are not a child nor a teenager, sit."

She clenches her jaw. "If I must be taught, I think I'd rather be taught by someone else."

Kel'Thuzad purses his lips for a long moment, staring at her, before he sighs, "Perhaps this needs to be done sooner rather than later. To hammer something into you."

He draws close, his eyes boring into hers. "I know you've already been warned, but here it is yet again. Listen carefully Proudmoore and decide if the path of disobedience is the one you wish to tread."

"Imagine, that after months, years, of your continued disobedience, the Scourge captures someone who meant something to you. Where if you had been in control of yourself, perhaps you could give them a quick clean death, or if you had served well, asked or traded in a boon to the Lich King to stave off their fate," explained Kel'Thuzad, "Instead, the Lich King forces you to torture them yourself all the while controlling your voice and making you seem as if you enjoy it. Then, much like Lady Deathwhisper, they are reanimated, and you are never allowed to tell them the truth."

Jain went silent.

"My point was made well then," said Kel'Thuzad, pleased, "And in truth, this goes for even the common folk. Would your rather them torn apart by ghouls, eaten alive? Or a quick bolt of lightning or shard of ice to kill them in seconds?"

"That's horrible either way..."

"It is your reality now, Acolyte," snapped Kel'Thuzad, "It is what you damned yourself to the moment you entered Icecrown. I'd question what you were thinking coming here but it's obvious you weren't. That task force's size was pathetic. If not for your own efforts, I doubt they would have breached even a quarter as far as they did. The Scourge will not tolerate such foolishness, such a waste of resources and potential."

She scoffed. "How much was wasted in your little plot to lure Arthas here?"

"A calculated choice, a carefully selected sacrifice," countered the Arch Necromancer, "In truth Jaina, how much do you think the Scourge wasted in, what did you call it? The 'little plot'? Hmm? Let me tell you: A few cultists, a few necromancers, several vials of the plague of undeath. That is it. That is all it took to start the Scourging of Lordaeron. Everything else was built or reanimated on Lordaeron's soil. Almost nothing of Northrend was used in the attempt, far more was sent south to Ironforge and Stormwind, not even by our own desires."

Jaina swallowed, shaken. "That's... that's it?"

Arthas's Scourge was hardly that efficient...

"We could have fully unleashed ourselves," said Kel'Thuzad, "A full-on brute force war. Perhaps the Scourge would have won, perhaps not. Instead, with negligible effort, several towns and one city has been scourged. A rift formed that drove you, your prince, and your small expedition to us to be conscripted. Arthas was the primary prize sought, because, with him, we have one guaranteed unexpected strike before anyone knows he has been... enlisted into the Scourge. I'm sure you can guess the target and the damage that will be done with it."

She clenched her jaw and looked down at the desk. "The King."

"Quite right," agreed Kel'Thuzad, "The King will die unexpectedly at the hands of his son, and a new Scourging will be started in the heart of the capital city. The core of Lordaeron will be destroyed before anyone realizes what is happening. The rest of Lordaeron will be a trifle in comparison. Hardly a wasteful effort, no, it is surgically precise, with minimal waste. Crushing resistance and leaving us with a leaderless enemy."

He places a hand on the desk, using the other to grab her chin and force her to look at him. "The Scourge you think you know is not the one that exists at this moment, Jaina. Keep your mind in the here and now. Consider if you can do more 'good' in willing service or pointless defiance that will see you puppeted about. There is no denying that the Lich King is cruel to his enemies and those who defy him, but he is fair, is generous even, to those who serve him willingly. You would be surprised what boons he may be willing to give."

He pauses briefly, "And as I said in Lordaeron, the demons prevent the Scourge from becoming the glorious empire it could become. Your hatred belongs with them, not us."

Jaina scowls at him, but he's done with his tirade and turns. He flicks his wrist and conjures a chalkboard. "Now, we are going to start with a basic overview of anatomy followed by dissections of various specimens. Only when I believe you have a firm understanding will you attempt your first reanimation. I hope for the end of the day but will accept by tomorrow if I must. Oh, and Acolyte? The Lich King will know if you are intentionally failing or not giving proper effort, so don't bother..."

When she's not being sour about life in general, Jaina isn't a bad student. Certainly intelligent and understanding, for the most part, and yet, Kel'Thuzad sometimes finds himself amused by the odd question here and there for things that should be apparent...

"...and we're not wearing gloves for a dissection why?" posed Jaina.

He gives her a patient look. "Acolyte, we are literally infused with necromantic power. Even the most basic of cultists bound to the Lich King are offered protection from normal illness and disease."

She frowns thoughtfully. "I... see."

Most likely considering how disease was never rampant in their past life amongst the cult. At least... as long as it wasn't magical in nature. There were a few instances where a botched magical plague caused issues here and there, but idiots not following proper procedure did it to themselves. "Mind yourself if you ever find yourself in research, however, magical ailments we are not so fortuitous against."

She nods and eyes the rat before her with distaste. He resists the urge to sigh and moves to the other side of the slab. "Have you ever performed a dissection before?"

"Witness yes, done, no," she answered.

He hummed. "I will walk you through it this once, then expect you to do the rest yourself, so watch and listen carefully..."

Kel'Thuzad is wistfully reminded of his own first foray into necromancy carving into rats, mostly at Ner'Zhul's prodding, but with less firm guidance and more vagueness. Of course, that had been because the Lich King wanted Kel'Thuzad firmly under his control before anything specific was taught. He slices open the rat and carefully begins pointing out organ positioning.

"...but what does that matter?" asked Jaina, skeptical, "It's not like an undead's heart is pumping blood."

He hummed. "No, it doesn't, and perhaps were you to be a lowly necromancer, this lesson would be moot. But tell me, Jaina, do you wish to reanimate undead slaves, mindless fodder? Whose bodies are literally falling apart? Or do you wish to reanimate people as close as you can to perfection? To keep their bodies and minds in as close to pristine condition as possible."

She looks at him blankly. "Why would the Scourge care?"

He shrugged. "I doubt the Lich King would, unless you botched an important reanimation of course, but I was trying to be considerate of you."

Her face turned oddly unreadable.

And of course, the Lich King was watching as well, his mocking laughter echoing in his mind. "I would call you pathetic and soft, my most favored servant, if I did not see where you were going with this. Such a temptation you set before her. That she is being merciful by reanimating them intact."

The Lich King cackles and Kel'Thuzad gives a mental chuckle as well, though his is for a different reason. One day, the Lich King will fall, whether to Arthas and Jaina, or to an outside force, and every Scourge that Jaina reanimates as intact as possible is another productive member of the future Undead Empire. Hopefully.

"In summary," said Kel'Thuzad, forcing the topic to continue, "While the individual organs may not individually matter save of course for the brain, the remains of the nervous system is actually something necromancy uses to keep the body functional."

She frowns. "What about skeletons?"

"Are moved by the more magical aspect of it rather than muscle, especially for speech for the more important ones, its a tad more complicated and certainly not a day one lesson," he admits, "But necromancy keeps the nervous system animated to help direct the body, and allows for lesser sensations of touch, pain, and the like."

She nods thoughtfully. "Question. Something I've heard argued, whether undead can really 'feel' or not..."

Most likely from future discussions. She has to be careful with how she phrases things to not betray her secret, for if she does Kel'Thuzad doesn't think he can save her from Ner'Zhul ripping through her mind for the information, regardless of the state of her sanity after. "Lesser sensations. Echoes of what once was if you will. The more powerful the emotion was in life, the more of it stays in death, though, not always. It also depends on the state of decay for normal undead."

He pauses in thought. "I'm not sure if you've encountered any shades or ghosts or banshees as of the moment, but their emotional capabilities are a bit more... ephemeral if they haven't possessed anything, as are skeletons. There is a state of undeath that I have been promised, well... the price of that is a bit heavier."

Unless he is holding his phylactery (his very soul), his emotional capabilities as a Lich are heavily stunted. Of course, why would a Lich need emotions is the thought process behind that, along with the whole 'shedding one's humanity' thing. He could pitch his tone to give an illusion of emotion, but really, that's a calculated choice more than anything else. To truly feel without his phylactery, something really, really, needs to impact him.

The moment Arthas died... the moment he gave his last command...

Kel'Thuzad carefully wraps up that memory and buries it away as deep as he can. He is helping Jaina along in her path of damnation, his promise is basically forfeit in any meaningful way. "Now, I have another rat I wish you to pick apart on your own. Recite to me as if I was an acolyte myself."

She does so, and he takes in her words without really listening. He'd already heard about her tangent when she was eating earlier. When she is put into an intellectual or academic situation she appears to be able to... compartmentalize her situation a bit better. She is also more thorough than a brief overview, either verbatim repeating his earlier pointers, giving her own view on it, and even a few worthy guesses of her own into the beginnings of the art of necromancy. He finds it a wonder that Jaina Proudmoore took almost no direct apprentices in her previous life save one for a short time.

'She will fit nicely into the role of Grand Necromancer when she sheds her past,' Kel'Thuzad muses to the Lich King, every single praise, every single point of potential, he will dangle before Ner'Zhul to draw his appetite, so make him desire her willing service more, 'She'll be able to teach generations of acolytes well.'

'Perhaps, but I foresee that it will yet be a long time coming,' answered the Lich King, 'I had not intended to consider Kul Tiras for some time, and I doubt the Legion would care about the island kingdom. But I suspect I will need to have it properly infiltrated and ready to be Scourged if need be, even if the efforts end up as nothing more than a threat to keep Proudmoore in line.'

'Of course,' agrees Kel'Thuzad, 'Just... less of the more bloodthirsty cultists perhaps, if someone jumps the gun, it will reverse the desired effect.'

He winces as a throb of annoyance spikes down the bond. 'I am aware, pet. Do not assume to direct me as you would the feckless neophytes.'

'Of course, my apologizes,' Kel'Thuzad offers before getting a grunt of dismissal in return.

He returns to the lesson, watching Jaina begin to dissect without passion one specimen after another for the next few hours. She gets quicker as they go, not that it's truly that complicated. Most beings follow at least some basic biology: brains, lungs, hearts, etcetera. There are of course more unique beings that break away from the norm, but the base is all she really needs, even if reanimating a species she hasn't encountered before. When she finishes the last, a bear, her robes coated generously in blood and some flesh, he nods slowly to himself.

"Good, good," he muses, "Good. Now..."

He regards her stony emotionless face for a moment. Even with her control, he does believe it was wise to hold off on a human specimen for the initial lessons, he doubts she would take it well even if she didn't give an actual reaction. A slow pull would be the best way. "Eventually, necromancy will come as easy as breathing to you, without the need of an incantation or intense focus. But for now..."

He conjures a book from his collection, opening it to the required page and pointing, "Read the initial steps, if you have questions ask, after, I will guide you on your first reanimation: A rat. Oh, and try not to smudge blood on the pages please."

She glances down at herself, grimaces, and mutters a quick cleaning spell to remove the stains. She takes the book from him, pacing as she reads over the passage. He waits patiently until she's done and hands him back the book. "Now, to begin..."

She ignores him, walking over to the rat they dissected earlier, her lips parsing to release a string of dark words, a green glow illuminating her right hand. She points a single finger at it, and a bolt of necromantic energy surges out and hits the rat. Immediately, the cut open flesh glows an unholy green, and stitches closed. The rat squeaks and scrambles for a moment, paws screeching on the slab. It pauses its scramble and turns to regard Jaina, its eyes glowing. Kel'Thuzad raises a single eyebrow at that. The infusion ritual and engravings would certainly help, but that was still a flawless first attempt. She is extraordinarily apt at magic.

"Impressive," he praises.

Only... her emotionless demeanor has cracked. She turns to look at him, and she seems feverish, sweat rolling down her head, eyes wide, hands shakey. "I... I feel it."

"Of course you do," he answers, "You reanimated it."

Her arm still twitches. "Will it always be like this?"

He regards her for a moment before it hits him. "Ah, do you mean the connection as a necromancer to your dead? Or the rush of using such dark magic, hmm?"

She swallows thickly. "This is... it's heavier than some of my more powerful spells."

"And more addicting than the standard use of arcane," agrees Kel'Thuzad, "One of your biggest trials will be controlling that pull. You are a master of your magic, not the other way around."

She swallows, shivers, and glances at the door. "Are we done?"

He nods. "Begone with you. What remains of the day is yours. This base is a minor one, you may explore it if you wish, there is a small library you may visit on the other side, you may converse with the other residents, or you may retire to your room if you so wish."

"Where is Arthas?" she asks.

"Training," said Kel'Thuzad, "Keep up your performance in your lessons, and you will see him in a few days."

She gives a short, sharp nod, and leaves. He watches her presence, but to his minor disappointment, she merely returns to his room. He supposes it was foolish at this point to expect her to readily seek out more knowledge, or willingly acquaint herself with others in service to the Lich King. It will come with time he muses before retiring to his temporary study to begin planning out Jaina's next lessons.

Though not before a bit of amusement and nudging Jaina's undead rat to return to her.

He smiles to himself before leaving.

Review Responses:

Urazz: It's less of losing her soul, and more of the taint of the damned. She's been forcibly bound to -The Lich King-, that has baaaad effects on someone. For your other question, Frostmourne, and through it, the Lich King, control what the wielder is allowed to feel from their soul trapped in the blade. Negative emotions are more useful to the Scourge, so they are allowed to feel it.

Connor Wornsop: No Lich form Jaina.