Achlys held onto her father's robes with a death grip as she cowered behind him. Cautiously, she poked her head out and peeked down at the hooves that could crush her skull with ease.

"It still looks pathetic," Hecarim's voice boomed.

"She is still a baby," Karthus retorted, "it still has not even been two years since she was found. You are being unbearably impatient."

"Two years and little progress. Your time has been wasted. It's as fragile as ever."

"My time has not been wasted. I am deathless. My time is infinite. I cannot waste what will never run out."

"I disagree."

"How unfortunate for you that you feel this way. Tell me Hecarim, are you dissatisfied with each hour that passes without you killing something? If so, yours must be a truly unfulfilling existence."

Hecarim said nothing, but the balefire that enshrouded him flared with malice.

"It need not be this way," Karthus continued, "ease your restless mind and focus on the small details for a change."

He gestured towards Achlys.

"You may not see much growth, but I have spent months with her and I have seen much. There is so much potential. Achlys, would you like to show Hecarim what you have learned?"

Achlys shook her head 'no' without raising her head to look at the horseman.

"Achlys," Karthus coaxed, "please."

Hecarim let out a chuckle that sounded like equal parts laughter and thunder.

"I am still not impressed."

"Perhaps if you were not actively attempting to terrorize her, she would be more willing to show you what she has learned."

"Terror is the appropriate response for the living," Hecarim said as he shifted his gaze to the cowering child, "if it is expected to live here, it will need to learn to fight through that fear."

"And when she is older, I will make sure she does, but for now I want her to know she does not need to fear the spirits here."

"It should learn now."

They were both silent as they prepared to begin their cyclical argument anew. Hecarim was the first to speak but this time, his words would surprise Karthus.

"A compromise," he grumbled.

"A do not believe what I am hearing," Karthus replied, "you seeking a compromise?"

"Do not mock me, lich, or I will retract my offer."

Karthus closed his mouth. Hecarim turned and took ten steps away from Karthus before piercing his glaive into the ground.

"Tell the child to approach and take my weapon," Hecarim ordered, "but do not more than that. You will not move alongside it nor will you aid it with your magic. It will walk on its own. It will overcome its fear alone. Or it will fail alone. If it can do this, I will consider its progress adequate. Do you understand, Karthus?"

"I understand. But you will also not interfere. No stomping of your hooves, no balefire, and no bellowing at her. No active intimidation at all. Do you understand?"

Hecarim nodded.

Karthus knelt down to eye level with Achlys. He took his robe from her hands and let her clutch at his fingers instead. As she held his one hand, he used his other to brush the hair from her face.

"Where is my brave girl," he asked in a soothing tone, "there she is. Brave little Achlys. Achlys, there is something I want you to do for me. Will you help me please?"

Her breathing steadied as he continued to pat her head. Feeling better, she looked up at him and nodded in agreement. Karthus pointed over to Hecarim.

"Over there is Hecarim. I know he scares you, but you do not need to fear him. Remember, Achlys, just like in your book. He defends our home."

Achlys made an unhappy whimpering noise.

"He placed his weapon in the ground. Please, go grab it. You do not need to pick it up. Do not be afraid. The weapon will not hurt you either. Can you please do this for me?"

Achlys looked at Hecarim, then back to her father, then to the weapon, and then again to her father. She sniffled but nodded weakly.

"Yea," she accepted.

"I know you will."

Karthus guided her forward and gave her an encouraging little push forward. Then Achlys was alone. She looked at the distance between her and Hecarim and suddenly all the confidence her father had instilled in her had vanished. What were ten paces for the horseman felt like a mile for the child.

She took a few nervous steps forward. So far, so good. A few more steps. She looked back and was comforted by the knowledge that she was still within her father's arm's reach. With her confidence building once more, she boldly strode forward ten whole steps. By now she was a third of the way there and once again she turned back to check on Karthus. This time however, she was not filled with confidence. Instead, unease took roost in her heart as she discovered he was no longer right behind her.

"Fah?" she whimpered.

Karthus shook his head.

"You must do this yourself, Achlys," he comforted, "I will wait here for you to return triumphant."

Her brow furrowed in distress. She shuffled back around. Her eyes studied the ground before her, doing everything in her minimal power to not acknowledge Hecarim. Just put one foot in front of the other, she kept thinking. Onward she pressed until she was half way between the two undead.

By now, the unease she felt had become fear. She was losing her battle of wills, and she found her gaze drifting up towards Hecarim. Her eyes became fixated on the dark helmet of the looming specter and the eerie eyes blazing behind it. A pathetic whimpering noise escaped her lips. Teary eyes looked back to her father for help.

"Wah Fah," she stated, "Fah?"

"I cannot help you, Achlys," Karthus said, "you must be brave and do this on your own. Only a few more steps."

"No!" she cried, "Fah! No!"

It pained Karthus to see her like this. He wanted nothing more than to hold her hand and guide her, but he couldn't. He offered an encouraging smile.

"You are a brave, girl. I believe in you."

She nodded, although a few tears had trickled down her cheeks. Three more steps were all she was able to take though. Now crying, she turned back to Karthus with arms outstretched, and took a stumbling step back.

"Fah! Ah ah wah fa!" her words were lost in her tears.

"As predicted," Hecarim scoffed.

"Silence!" Karthus snapped at the horseman before adopting his softer tone for Achlys, "you are more than half way there, Achlys. Keep going."

Achlys trembled in place.

"No!" she cried, "no! no!"

She could walk no more.

Hecarim chuckled, "And so it is over."

"It is alright, Achlys," Karthus tried to soothe, but Achlys could hear the disappointment in his voice, "you tried your best."

"No!" she repeated.

Fear and shame clashed within her heart until they eventually flowed over as fresh tears. Achlys balled her hands into tiny fists and rubbed at her eyes, red and puffy, as she bawled. But through the tears, the glimmer of her green eyes still shone through. Oddly enough, as she continued to cry, they grew brighter with an eerie light.

Her emotions, powerful and raw, were like a beacon for the lesser spirits. And with a scream, she called them to her. From the shadows, six billowed towards her. They swirled around the child, enveloping her in a phosphorous vortex as they examined her. None attacked her, though they brushed up against her, making her hairs stand on end from the chill.

"You promised no aid," Hecarim bellowed.

"These are not from my congregation," Karthus said in amazement, "they have answered her call on their own."

"Mmm," Achlys moaned as she tried to stifle her tears, "mmmims."

The confused faces of the mist wraiths distracted her from her distress. Without thinking, her hand began to glow with magic as she reached out and grabbed one. Her hand closed around the closest spirit and it became still and quiet. Achlys reached out with her hand and grabbed another. Between the two, she steadied herself.

The wraiths she held were still, but the other four still hovered about her. Their howling had softened to a moan as they watched. They could sense the magic and will emanating from her. Though the tears had not stopped trickling down her face, Achlys's sobs had steadied. She took another step towards Hecarim.

"Go," she ordered.

At her command, the spirits began to move. Those she held stayed by her side, providing balance for her uneasy steps, while the others pushed against her back. With their aid, she approached Hecarim. Step by anxious step, she persisted, keeping her eyes on the weapon stuck in the dark earth. One of the spirits glided before her and hissed up at Hecarim, though the burning gaze of the horseman had it shrinking back to Achlys.

Achlys didn't notice the glare. Her focus was steeled. Now within a few paces of the weapon, the wraiths began to strain against her. Hecarim's ambient malice pressed against their weaker wills. They shrieked and cowered, but Achlys held firmly, and though those at her back would go no further, she pressed the two she held onward. Her hands burned a bright green as she forced her desire to move into those in her grasp, replacing their feeble thoughts with her own emotions. Now before Hecarim, she released the other wraiths. They glided back to the others, threads of spectral magic trailing back to Achlys.

Achlys didn't let the magic around her hands diminish. She reached out and took her final step. Although her hand couldn't wrap entirely around the weapon, she did her best to grip it. She had done it. A feeling of pride swelled through her to mingle with the fear and determination. The strange mix of emotions left her smiling but trembling and still, she refused to look up at Hecarim. She stayed like this for three seconds, before turning and bolting back to the summoned spirits. Once more, they swarmed around her and expedited her return to her father.

Karthus greeted her with open arms. Achlys jumped into them and she gripped his robes tightly. She rubbed her face against his shoulder, drying her cheeks. Karthus stood and cradled her against him. He hugged her and whispered in her ear.

"I am unbelievably proud of you," he said, "I knew you could do it, Achlys."

Achlys sighed. As her emotions calmed, the magic dissipated from her hands and her sway over the wraiths went with it. No longer bound to her will, the wraiths flew away, eager to distance themselves from Hecarim.

"Was that adequate enough for you, Hecarim?" Karthus asked, "or has she exceeded your expectations and done more to fulfill the terms of your compromise."

The Deathsinger's voice was smug and Hecarim hated it. He pulled his glaive from the ground and glared at the spot Achlys had grabbed.

"I concede," he said, "but make no mistake, lich, it will be years before I consider this child worthy. But I do recognize the potential in her."

"Did you hear that, Achlys," Karthus asked as he pat her on the back, "that will likely be the kindest words Hecarim will speak to you," he turned his attention back to the other specter, "I am pleased that you also see the potential in her. Some day she will raise armies alongside us."

"I await that time," Hecarim nodded, "though I will do so with little patience."

"Fortunately for her, I have enough patience for the both of us."

"How fortunate," Hecarim grumbled before departing.

When Hecarim was gone, Karthus held Achlys over his head and smiled up at her.

"My daughter, so brave and able to call spirits to her at such a tender age. No soul is more fortunate than mine."