"I want you to know," Karthus spoke, "this arrangement does not please me."

"How unfortunate for you, because I am quite pleased by this arrangement."

Karthus scowled. Simply being near Thresh was enough to irritate him. Behind him, he could feel Achlys clutching his robes as she peered cautiously out from behind them. But just one look at the imposing wraith was more than enough to send her right back to hiding behind her father.

"He is scary," she whispered.

Karthus reached his hand back so that Achlys could hold it, an offer she did not hesitate to take him up on. She held his boney fingers with all her might as though she could squeeze some courage out of them. Thresh looked down at the girl and twisted his visage into a semblance of a grin.

"Hello, Achlys," he said in an artificially tender tone, "it has been too long since we have seen each other. Do you remember me? I haven't forgotten about you."

Achlys nodded and somehow managed to squeeze Karthus's fingers yet tighter.

"Do not intentionally frighten her," Karthus demanded.

"So protective, Karthus," Thresh chuckled, "but no, I am not attempting to intentionally frighten her. Your daughter is simply a timid soul. You should work on that. You know that fear attracts hungry spirits like moths to a lantern's flame."

"You know that is why we are here. The binding magics you have taught her are crucial to her survival. It would be foolish for me to deny that."

"I do know. Now, I ask you again, do you accept my terms so that I may begin her instruction?"

"Regrettably, I do."

"Excellent," Thresh nodded, "now let me have her. You may leave or stay, but remember, you have promised not to interfere."

Karthus pulled his arm forward, easing Achlys around from behind him. She looked up at him, and he didn't need to hear her speak to know what she wanted. It was apparent in her pleading eyes; she wanted to go home. But this is what was best for her. She needed to learn to protect herself.

"Everything will be alright, Achlys," Karthus tried to soothe her, "he's going to teach you magic. My brave girl loves to learn magic."

"Yeah," Achlys answered.

Crouching down to be eye level with her, Karthus placed his other hand on her shoulder as he spoke.

"I am not leaving," he promised, "I will wait right here in the room with you, but you must listen to Thresh now. Do you understand?"

"Me be brave," she promised.

Achlys nodded again. She hugged her father close for a moment before releasing him and turning to face the other wraith. With her fists clenched in an attempt to steady herself, she spoke in a trembling tone.

"Hello."

"That's a better greeting," Thresh responded, "much better than last time we met. Do you remember? You put up quite the fuss, all your screaming and crying, and you even tried to attack me. Do you plan on doing that again?"

"No."

"Hmm, too bad."

Achlys looked confused. Her father usually scolded her for throwing tantrums, instead urging her to verbalize her frustrations rather than kick and scream, but now this other person was disappointed that she wasn't going to do that. It just didn't make sense to her and she wasn't sure how she was supposed to behave.

As if sensing her confusion, Thresh continued to speak.

"I want you to fight me, Achlys. You are going to need to defend yourself from more than broken, lost souls. Some will have wills of their own, and your willpower must be able to force them into submission. I need to know how strong you are so I can adjust your training accordingly."

He crouched down before Achlys, who stumbled back at the sudden closeness. Thresh caught her arm and held it firm to prevent her from fleeing back to Karthus.

"Now," he continued, "I do not care which emotion, fear, anger, or desire, you draw upon for your magic. I only care that you fight."

Without further warning, his grip on her arm tightened. Thresh's magic, manifesting as thin spectral chains, wound themselves around Achlys's forearm. Thresh let go of her, though his magic still kept her tethered to him.

Panic filled Achlys. She let out a cry as she reflexively sheathed her arm in her own magic. It staved off chill of the chains against her skin but did nothing to free her from them. Achlys pulled back with all her might as her magic flared wildly, washing over the chains. As the fiery manifesting of her will clashed against the steely cold of Thresh's, she continued her meager physical attempts to free herself.

"That's it, Achlys," Thresh goaded, "struggle."

"Let go!" she screamed.

Tears began to well up in her eyes as she whimpered in protest. With her free hand, she summoned threads of magic and cast them upon the chains. Her magic entwined itself through the links. She pulled back again, this time with the strength of two arms. Despite her best efforts, the chains still would not budge. In a final act of desperation, she looked back at Karthus, her eyes pleading with him for aid.

That expression was all that was needed to spur the lich into action. Karthus surged forward from where he had been watching in the corner of the room. He summoned his own magic that filled the room with a deathly chill. He planned to wrap this force around the other specter and slow his movements enough for Achlys to break away.

"Release her," he demanded.

"How quickly you forget your promise, Karthus," Thresh chided, "you had promised that you would not interfere."

"I did not believe you would attack her."

Thresh yanked the chains of magic attached to Achlys, completely overpowering her and forcing her magic to dissipate. With a cry, she stumbled forward and Thresh caught her so she would not fall. He grabbed her arm and held it aloft for the lich to see.

"Look, Karthus, she is uninjured but for here," he pointed to the scabbed over abrasion, "and I was not the cause of that."

Achlys's hairs stood on end as Thresh's clawed finger ghosted over her injury. Under his touch, the skin had become uncomfortably cold, as though her warmth was being drawn out of the damaged skin.

"Or did you forget the reason you came here?"

Karthus was silent.

"Did you?" Thresh demanded an answer.

"No," Karthus admitted.

"Then do not interfere and remember, I am being far more gentle than anything hunting her would be."

"I understand," Karthus said before turning to address his daughter," Achlys, I am sorry. This is stressful for you, I know, but please understand, we only want you to grow stronger."

Achlys bit back her tears and nodded. She didn't understand why her father insisted that this was important, but she trusted him, so she would be brave for him. Thresh released her arm and gave her a rough pat on the head.

"You have done well so far, Achlys," he said, "but there is always room for improvement. The most important thing is that you were able to summon your magic reflexively. Your attempts to fight me were feeble, but I never expected you to be able to free yourself. Now let me get you a more suitable target to practice on."

Thresh held his lantern aloft and pondered over the countless souls contained within. Achlys would need something more challenging than the broken old soul he had given her to play with last time. She needed one with some fight still left in it. Something that would struggle against her with all its remaining strength. Something fresh. Something terrified.

He settled on a soul. It was a recent acquisition from only a few Harrowings ago. He remembered the evening fondly. He hadn't originally been stalking her; she had just been unfortunate enough to cross his path. The look of pure terror on her face had caught his attention and he could sense her heart hammering in her chest like a bird fluttering against its cage. What was most intriguing though, was how she protecting another woman. Who she was, family, friend, or just another bystander, Thresh didn't know. He would have all the time in the world to find out later.

At that moment though, he had put his previous hunt on hold to instead pursue the terrified woman. He gave them a moment to gain a sprinting head start. It was always more fun when they ran. But not matter how fast she ran, mortals always tired, and all he had to do was simply walk her to exhaustion. When he heard her breath grow raspy from heated exertion, he struck. His scythe had flown over her should, was pulled back, and struck her directly in the chest. He yanked on the chain and the blade sunk deeper into her heart as her body was whipped violently around. She was dead before her corpse crashed at his feet.

It always took them a moment to realize they were dead. She was no exception. Even as the Mist pulled her soul from her body, she still tried to run. She never made it a single step. With his lantern held aloft, Thresh drew her soul in, trapping it forever. The other woman's face, bathed in his lantern's light, was frozen in abject horror. He remembered how he had let her live. He knew she would be plagued by nightmares of him for years and he could bide his time and wait for the paranoia to set in. Then he would come for her.

He savored the thought of the hunt to come, but for now, his attentions to return to Achlys. Thresh reached into the lantern with his magic and dragged the selected soul out. As it crested the edge of the cursed artifact, her soul briefly tried regain some of its physical form. Her face, still bearing the expression of terror, briefly flashed in front of Achlys before Thresh forced her back into her simplest form; a small phosphorous globe. Karthus scowled at the display. He did not approve of the Warden's treatment of the dead, but he kept his part of the bargain and remained silent.

"You remember these, don't you Achlys," Thresh asked as he held out the globe.

"Soul," she answered.

"Very good. And you remember what to do with them?"

"Make dance?"

"If you can hold on to her, you can make her dance to your heart's content."

Karthus looked over at Thresh with confusion. He didn't know what the other specter meant by "dancing" but he was sure he would not like the answer.

Achlys called her magic to the tips of her fingers, turning them into the thread-like tendrils he had taught her to. She reached out to the soul, but Thresh stopped her, placing his finger in the palm of her hand.

"Hold this one tightly, Achlys," he instructed, "do not let her escape. Can you do this?"

"Yeah," she answered hesitantly.

"That's a good girl."

Thresh held his palm open, offering up the soul. Achlys reached out with her magic, threading it into the soul. As it connected, she felt a chill run down her spine as the flutter of adrenaline spiked through her body just as it had the last time she held one of Thresh's souls. Her brow furrowed at the sensation. None of the other wraiths she had held gave her the same sensation.

Once Thresh was sure that Achlys had a grip on the soul, he relinquished his own hold over it. Instantly, the soul began to struggle against Achlys. The young girl's eyes grew wide with surprise. This soul strained against her with more force than any wraith she had ever held had. The tips of her fingers stung as her threads of magic were thrashed. The more she pulled back on the soul, the more it resisted.

"You will lose her if you continue like this," Thresh commented.

He knelt beside Achlys and placed his hand over hers. His magic melded easily into hers, strengthening her grasp on the soul.

"You are still too weak to use brute force alone. Let the soul exhaust herself against you," he instructed, "do you remember last time you grabbed a soul, how your desire fueled your magic? Focus on your desires again, but this time rather than reaching out with it, center yourself. Make your desire to be immovable."

Achlys nodded, though she didn't fully understand what Thresh had instructed her to do. Still, she tried her best. She thought about how badly she wanted to grab that soul and make it dance. It was a fun game and she wanted to play it again. But she couldn't think about grabbing it. Instead she looked at the soul as she looked at a toy ball before her father threw it at her. Focus. Prepare. It will come to you.

As her focus intensified, her breathing steadied. The stinging in her fingers disappeared as, instead of pulled back against the soul, she let it pull against her. With Thresh's aid, she did not budge, and the soul at the end of their magic began to weaken. Achlys grinned.

"Now pull her in," Thresh ordered, "take your time. Be unrelenting. Your will is what matters. Stay singular in your desire and her willpower will falter before yours."

He turned her hand over, opening her palm upwards. With ease, he curled the strands of Achlys's magic around his fingers, as though he were winding twine around them, and began to pull the soul in. Once the process was begun, he held the bottom of Achlys's hand and moved her fingers in a beckoning motion. She mimicked the motion until the soul was within reach. Then, she snapped her hand out and grabbed it.

Achlys held the soul close to her chest. She could feel it trembling against her fingers, tickling her. She giggled at her success. She stared at the soul, content to gaze at the soft light, watching it flicker as it shivered. And then she heard a voice in her head.

"Let go!"

She snapped her head up and looked around. Her father hadn't grabbed her and the other wraith had released her hand. Nobody was holding her, so why did she think that?

Achlys pushed the though from her mind. That stray thought didn't matter. What did matter is that she got what she had wanted. And now that soul was hers to play with.