"No, please! Stay back! Aaah!"
Karthus looked down at the man cowering on the ground and pity welled in his soul.
"Be not afraid," he said in his soothing, hollow tone, "I wish you no harm."
As gentle as the words had been, they appeared to have no effect on the man. Still he tried to scramble back from the specter, pushing away with his arms and legs. It was an action that only succeeded in drawing out another cry of pain from him. In the chaos of the Harrowing, one of his ankles had been snapped and now bent at a useless angle.
"So much pain, so much fear," Karthus spoke as he approached, "but do not worry. All your suffering is about to end."
Karthus raised his hand. Members of his choir and other lesser wraiths called for the Harrowing encircled the man at this wordless command. They hissed and paced, eager to sink their fangs and claws into living flesh, and were only kept in check by the lich's presence. Even still, the doomed man tried to edge away.
"I- I don't want to die."
"Death is nothing to fear," Karthus comforted, "it is a blessing and one that I now bring to you."
The tips of Karthus's fingers glowed with cold light as he focused his deathly magic on the man. The magic completely saturated him, overwhelming his weakened life force in only a second. The man's scream of terror froze in his throat and as he collapsed onto the floor, only a whimper escaped. Karthus carved another notch into his staff.
At once, the gathered wraiths descended on the corpse to pull the soul from it even as the pale wisps of Karthus magic still rose from it.
"Stop," Karthus commanded, his voice still gentle but not to be disobeyed, "be still, my choir."
The wraiths halted even as their forms rippled with anticipation and their glowing eyes were fixated hungrily on the corpse. Karthus alone approached the body and knelt down beside it. He placed a gnarled hand over the dead man's face and reached out with his magic to coax the soul from its shell. What he pulled from the body was a wraith that more closely resembled how it looked in life than the shadowy shapes of the lesser wraiths that surrounded him.
Karthus gave a short nod of approval. It still wasn't perfect, but his ability to help wraiths retain a sense of their identities had improved. He had been watching Achlys as she trained her own magic, studying it to see if her ability to strengthen memories and use them to empower wraiths was something he could learn for himself. Achlys had been overjoyed at the thought of teaching her father something but, her eagerness did not mean that she was a competent teacher, and more than once her explanation for something had been a shrug then pantomiming some action.
Complicating this was that he had no ability to sense the memories in other wraiths as Achlys could. There was only one memory he knew these wraith possessed; that of their deaths at his hands. This singular memory would be all that they had until Achlys was able to help them further. It was not much but at least, Karthus thought, it was an important memory to treasure, the moments of their ascensions.
"You have become more than you were," Karthus spoke to the wraith, "rejoice. You are one of many who have crossed over today."
The wraith responded by opening his jaw far further than he should have even been able to do and letting out a shrill wail.
"I still sense a great fear within you. It will fade and you will see that this is how you were meant to be. Look, your leg is no longer broken. It no longer causes you pain."
Obeying the greater wraith, the wraith of the dead man looked down and did see that his foot was pointed as it should have, but he also saw his corpse. Another cry of anguish filled the room and the wraith became less defined in his shape, like fabric beginning to fray, as the confusion unraveled him.
"Shed no tears for that husk. It is not you anymore. Be still."
Bound to his killer, the wraith grew silent.
"My daughter will aid you when we return to the Isles."
Whether or not the wraith understood what Karthus was saying did not matter. All that was important was that his attention was taken from the corpse and his form ceased unraveling.
"But that will come later. Now, you have an important role to play. Somewhere here there is a lost soul who needs rescuing. Join your fellows in the choir, search for her, and save any others you may find from suffering."
The wraith made a trembling whine and turned to patrol the room with the other members of the choir. Now that it was occupied and less at risk of sinking into maddening despair, Karthus turned his attention from the wraith and finally looked around the room the man had tried to hide in. It was a small study, minimally furnished with a heavy desk and two cabinets, but much furniture was not needed when an entire wall was lined with a built in bookcase that was filled with books and baubles. Karthus approached this storied wall and looked over it.
"Perhaps there is something here Achlys would enjoy?" he thought to himself.
He knew this was not what he was supposed to be searching for, but so long as his choir continued their search, he reasoned he could afford a moment to find something he wanted. And perhaps, the fragment of the queen was hidden somewhere among the dust covered trinkets scattered among the shelves.
He ran his finger over the spines of the books, his touch so ethereal it didn't disturb the dust that had settled on them. There were so many to choose from but he wondered if any were something that was both at her reading level and something she would be interested in. Regrettably, he did not have the time to even skim the selection, so he grabbed a few that appeared to be about topics that interested her and se t them upon the desk.
As he turned back towards the bookshelf, he felt another ripple of the Harrowing's call pass through him, urging him to keep searching for the queen. The sensation excited his soul, creating a rush in his being not unlike the surge of adrenaline the living would feel before a fight. Karthus let the sensation roll through him, as he had many other times this Harrowing. It was not the most pleasant of sensations, but neither was it unbearable so long as you did not fight it, and he had had many Harrowings worth of experience to practice managing this feeling.
The newest wraith however, had none of this experience. He let out a harsh screech as the sensation struck him. He shook his head and clutched at where his heart used to be. With each second, he became more unraveled, trembling and becoming a formless wraith that would be little more than a shadowy figure.
Karthus placed a hand on the wraith's back. He focused his own thought and exerted his own will more directly over the trembling wraith. His magic was like a rock in the middle of a stream for the wraith, the Harrowing's call could still be felt pulling around it, but it was not going to be swept away.
"The feeling is profound the first time it is sensed," Karthus said, "and in time you will learn how to move with it. You will surrender yourself to it temporarily and serve the Harrowing's grand purpose and when it is over, you will return to yourself. It is nothing to fear."
He withdrew his hand but kept his magic wrapped around the wraith.
"It is nothing to fear," he repeated.
Slowly, when he was sure the wraith would not begin to immediately unravel again, he loosened his grip on the wraith. In the back of his mind, he could still feel the Harrowing's pull, but he was not worried about losing the wraith. So long as he kept his own will strong and focused, his choir was safe. And then suddenly, his attention was ripped away from his wraiths.
Karthus felt Viego's approach before he saw him. His anger and frustration poured from him like a palpable force. This was keenly felt by the other wraiths, who for a moment, had all gone rigid before resuming their search with renewed vigor and more aggression. They began to tear at the study, throwing books from the shelves, overturned the desk, tore at the curtains and floorboards, and even smashed open the window so they could crawl on the walls outside. What power Karthus held over these wraiths was being overpowered by the maddening desire to find the queen, no matter what destruction was caused in the process.
"Karthus!"
Viego's voice boomed as she stormed into the room. The Black Mist billowed around him, filling the study with an unnatural haze, but even through the shadow, his green eyes shone bright as lighting, their wild gleam promising just as much destruction.
Karthus gave a polite bow.
"My king," he said.
He did not know whether Viego's anger was directed towards anything in particular or if it was just the heightened emotions of a Harrowing causing this, but he reasoned being formal and inquiring if there was anything he could do to alleviate this distress was a wise course of action. Of course, this was his plan before he heard what Viego had to say.
"Your daughter," he shouted, pointing an accusing finger up at the lich, "where is she?"
The questioned stunned Karthus.
"Achlys?" he said, "She-"
"She was called!" Viego interrupted.
Anger rolled from him like a wave, washing over the lesser wraiths in the room. They scattered before him, doing anything to distance themselves from him or scurry to cower behind Karthus.
"You had told me that she would be loyal, that she would serve willingly. She had vowed it to me and yet, when I called, she did not answer. Explain this! Explain why I do not sense her here!"
Although the anger was directed towards Karthus, the new wraith felt it just as, if not more, than the greater wraith did. He wailed and clutched his head in his heads, his form folding in on itself as he did. Reflexively, Karthus glanced at it.
"Do not turn from me!" Viego ordered.
With this final outburst, the wraith shuddered, its form melting away as darkness spread from where its heart used to be until it was the same umbral color of the Mist. Despite this, Karthus did not reach out to the terrified wraith, but instead kept his attention fully on Viego and allowed the wraith to shrivel behind him.
"Do nothing but explain to me why she is not here!"
"She could not be here," Karthus said, "she is still mortal. She is to foster her power before becoming a wraith. It will be many years before she ascends and is able to join a Harrowing."
If his explanation had any effect on Viego it was so miniscule that it did not show, and with each steady word Karthus spoke, he came to realize that it was likely that Viego had forgotten that patience was needed for Achlys to reach her full potential. He had promised his daughter's loyalty and magic, and now he cursed himself inwardly for not being more specific when he had spoken to Viego in the throne room those many months ago. Now it was too late. He knew Viego could not be reasoned with when he was like this, consumed by his passions. But even if trying to reason with Viego was a hopeless endeavor, Karthus would attempt it anyway rather than let Achlys be the center of wrath.
"She could still serve now," Viego said, "she can still fight."
"She is young," Karthus still tried to reason, "she is untested."
"It does not matter. All bound to the Mist are my soldiers. It does not matter if they are young or old, human or beast. The power the Mist gives them makes them strong."
"But without experience, the strength you grant her will not be efficiently used."
"Then she would search while the other, more experienced wraiths deal with anything around her." Viego scoffed, his hand squeezing into a fist, "But what it is she should be doing is not as important as what she is doing; disobeying me."
Karthus's mind worked wildly to think of a way to spare Achlys. The best idea he came up with in such a short amount of time was to offer supposed situations that played in Viego's favor.
"She swore fealty, Karthus. She swore it."
"And I would wager my soul that if Achlys knew of your call, she would do everything her powers to fulfill it as best she could. I believe that she not here not due to disobedience, but rather ignorance."
"Explain."
"Perhaps she could not sense the call since she is still mortal and now that we are a distance from the Isles, she may not be able to sense it at all."
Karthus sincerely hoped that this was the case. He wished to be by her side for her first Harrowing to help guide her. The shriveled, cowering wraith by his feet was testament enough to how overwhelming one could be if you were not prepared.
"You speak so confidently about her," Viego said.
"I only do so because I know that she takes her responsibilities to the Isles seriously. She knows importance of her vow to help restore your queen."
"And yet she is not here."
"As I have said," Karthus repeated, keeping his tone calm, "I do not believe she ever knew she was summoned, and if she was summoned, there would be nothing she could do to be here. She cannot fly nor can she turn her form to pure mist to travel within it. It is through no fault of her own that she is not here."
In a supplicating motion, Karthus lowered his head.
"I humbly ask that you look favorably on Achlys," he said, "She is the youngest member of your court. She still has much to learn of her powers and how to best use them, but please, do not question her dedication to her king and country. Please, visit no wrath upon her."
"Do you believe me so cruel a king that I would harm a child of my court?"
"I will admit to being concerned for her wellbeing. As her father, I cannot help but be, even though I believe you to be a man who knows that the shortcomings of a child are the shortcomings of the father who did not adequately prepare his child."
At this comment, Viego grew silent and for half of an agonizingly long minute, he thought, before answering in a quieter but no less severe voice.
"Very well, Karthus," Viego said, "given the circumstances, I will forgive her disobedience."
"Thank you, my king."
"And I shall show forbearance with calling her on future Harrowings, for a time."
"It is appreciated."
"But this mercy will be offered upon one condition. Bring her before me. I will speak with her. I want to see what magic she is capable of and how I can make her a better warrior."
Karthus opened his mouth to speak, but Viego cut him off.
"See it done, Karthus. This is my command and I will discuss it no further."
Viego turned to leave the room.
"I have a greater task at hand and I shall not keep her waiting a moment longer."
Viego departed and with him went most of the Mist and the tension that had filled the room. No longer filled with fear, they spread out from Karthus and resumed their searching.
"She is not here," he said, "there is nothing to be done about it."
He gathered the books he had selected for Achlys from the floor and made his way toward the window. He raised his hand towards it, blasting it open with a sudden strike of magic.
"Go," he commanded his choir, "search for the queen elsewhere."
They poured from the window like water released form a damn and Karthus too floated out among them. It was not the most dignified way to leave a room, but it was the opposite direction from where Viego had gone and he wanted to give his choir time reign in their emotions again. Down away from the manor he directed them and as he did, he looked around him, his gaze first on the new wraith following closely behind, then to the Harrowing unfolding below, and lastly out towards the sea and the Shadow Isles in the far, far distance. His thoughts were not on finding the queen. His thoughts were on his daughter.
"You have much work ahead of you."