"It's time to practice your words now, Achlys," Karthus said as he selected a book from her shelf.
The lich lowered himself to the floor of Achlys's room. Achlys toddled over to him, brimming with happiness. Words were exciting! She pulled herself into her father's lap and looked at the book. It was one he had written for her. Your Home was written across the leather cover in Karthus's impeccable penmanship.
"Boo!" Achlys chirped, "boo-boo!"
"Book. And you will read it along with me."
"Yea."
Karthus lifted the corner of the cover so that Achlys could more easily open it.
"Nice and gently," he urged, "we are kind to books."
She nodded as her little fingers pulled at the cover and opened it up to the first page. She looked at the words, though she didn't understand what the squiggles meant, but Karthus knew.
"To my daughter, Achlys"
"I'm going to read to you now," he said, "but if you know the words, say them along with me."
You, my daughter are a special child,
Brought to us on oceans wild,
To live on these shores where spirits roam,
This is your home.
The Mist led you across the sea,
Knowing you would be found by me,
To raise you on shores where spirits roam,
This is your home.
"Ohm," Achlys said.
Karthus nodded and pat her on the head. She always joined in after the second stanza.
"Bah-eh?" she asked as she pointed to an illustration of a very blob-like Achlys in Karthus's arms.
"Yes. Baby Achlys."
She smiled and made a happy hissing giggle.
In the day, live among the dead,
And by night, rest your head,
Dreaming where the spirits roam,
This is your home.
Watch for the horseman and his flames bright,
As he leads his dark cavalry with might.
Always patrolling where the spirits roam,
Always protecting your home.
Achlys had silently attempted to mimic the words her father was saying. This part was tough, and most she could offer were "ight" and "ohm" for words. She tried to study the way his shriveled lips moved but could get little from it. Frustrated, she turned her attention back to the illustrations on the pages; a scowling centaur on the beach. She frowned back at it before helping to turn the page.
What this spirit does, take a look,
At the Chronicler and her special book,
She writes about where spirits roam,
She knows the names of those on your home.
"Boo-ook."
Yes! She knew that word, and pointed her finger proudly at the pages as she said so.
"Well done, Achlys." Karthus praised before turning the page and groaning internally.
The lich hated that he included Thresh in the book at all, but understood that the other specter would be a part of Achlys's life and so omitting him would be doing her a disservice.
Around the Warden caution will serve you well,
For his lantern is a magical cell,
A cold light glowing where spirits roam,
A powerful force on your home.
Karthus turned the page hastily.
Elise can appear both human and spider,
But whichever form, she wants to see you grow strong beside her,
To thrive where spiders and spirits roam,
To grow beautiful and clever on your home.
"Ahn-ah El-eh!" Achlys exclaimed. She traced her fingers over the illustration, contentedly following the protrusions of her arachnoid limbs, for a minute before helping Karthus to change the page.
Lastly, there is the one who cares for you most,
Leader of a great ethereal host,
His voice carries on the winds where spirits roam,
He sings to souls you on your home.
Karthus to many and Deathsinger to some,
But called 'Father" by the most important one,
He will raise you where spirits roam,
He wants this to be your home.
"Fah." Achlys said as she gripped the edges of his robe.
"Yes," Karthus answered, "I am here for you. Do you want to turn to the next page?"
Achlys nodded and, with his assistance, turned the page.
And here Achlys, you will grow,
With silver hair and eyes that glow,
Leading spectral companions to and fro,
Destined to expand where the Black Mists blow,
Become swift and strong racing along the shore and foam,
Grow wise and powerful learning from a magic tome,
And know that you belong where spirits roam,
This is your home.
"Home," Achlys said triumphantly at the end.
Her smile widened as she looked at the illustrations of an older Achlys that decorated the page. Her hair was flowing behind her as she danced through the shallow waters. A hand, wreathed in magic, was outstretched, beckoning the spirits behind her to follow. They all had faces painted to look like the neutral expression on Grimm. And all around them, the Black Mist swirled.
"Home," she repeated.
"Yes Achlys," Karthus said as he wrapped an arm around her and hugged her close, "this is your home."