Phealea stood on the dead, red earth of Hellfire Peninsula and at her feet were several bodies of dead fel orcs. The orcs were mostly frozen, with large pieces missing, as if blown away by some mystical force. Phea coolly gazed down at the scene before and sighed. The orcs were just measuring sticks for her, to test the new limits of her power.
She raised her left hand up close to her face and just gazed at it for a moment while her thoughts began to race. The energies of Draenor are strong, but corrupt. I wonder if others are as sensitive as me? No matter, I had to become my childhood name if I wished to survive here." She rationalized to herself as she closed her fist. Her fist glowed blue slightly.
Phealea had finally finished what she had started weeks ago. Her protection wards no longer needed to be maintain and she was free to act as she pleased in Outland. The price of her completed ritual was also beginning to manifest. Her skin was utterly cold to the touch and a certain warmth in her voice has been replaced with a far more icy tone. Phealea finally bonded with the ice shard she wore about her neck and the result froze her to the core. Her frost powers grew slightly and she was more resistant to magic.
Phealea took in a deep breath and sighed as she thought of some of the things she had to give up for the change to finally take place. The fire on Mondays no longer gave her any sensation and warmer emotions began to slip away from her. It was so I could survive. So I would not go insane from the dreams, or become the next puppet of some demon... it was also for the power.. She pursed her lips at the thought. The old her would have smirked. She reminded herself to attempt to smile to her friends, so they would not worry. As her mind turned to think of her sister and father, a thin smile formed on her face. She felt no more anxiety at the coming days. She knew her father would make an appearance on her birthday and now she was more than ready to meet the old man in his eyes.
The sound of a roar came from behind her as another orc charged her. She turned to face the red skinned monster as her hands began to glow and go through the motions of the spell. Her mind became clear as she methodically and efficiently went about taking the orc apart.
Another measure of her new power.
Phealea walked about the lower parts of Shattarah, she had a new weapon contact she had to meet. Her wide brimmed hat was tipped slightly to obscure her features with shadow. As she walked coolly through the darkened streets she regarded the impoverished refuges with a bit of disdain that somewhere within her caused her to rail against her current state. The sudden feeling made her stop for a moment and silence the call. Once that was accomplished she turned down into a alley.
It was there she was confronted by a sickly looking man. The man eyed Phealea as a cat would regard a mouse. The man was obviously a poor refugee who had not the comfort of a warm bed or bath for days. He looked and saw a young girl, and he flashed her a yellowish, rotten grin. The man took a few steps closer and deftly drew a short sword and pointed it at her. Phealea wrinkled her nose and took a step back.
"Money or ya life girl. No need ta try nothin' foolish, 'less ya want ya pretty neck slit." The man spat through his rotten smile.
Phealea tipped up the brim of her hat ever so slightly. She analyzed the man, watched how he held his sword and how he moved as he approached. She frowned slightly as her assessment of the man came to a close and she tipped her hat back down to it's former position.
"Move." She said coldly, allowing the threat in her voice linger for a moment.
The man frowned for a moment and then began to laugh. After he finished his laughter he eyed the girl before him again and took two more steps forward, his last two steps.
Phealea said one word and slammed her foot into the ground causing a wave of ice to flow away from her. The wave caught the man in the legs and sent shards of razor sharp ice into his legs. He let out a howl of pain as he blinked at the girl in a bit of shock.
"Look... I am s..sorry. I meant nothin'... just a bit hungry... I just needed a bit of coin. I will lea...leave ya in peace." He stuttered from the chill that coursed through his body.
Phealea sighed and began to summon forth the energy about her, focused it into water, condensed that into solid ice. Then with a quick motion the frostbolt slammed into the man's chest, causing the ice about his legs to shatter into more shards that sliced the man's body to ribbons.
As the man's frozen and battered body fell to the stone, Phealea continued on her way.
She was now going to be a few seconds late to her meeting.
Business was business but work was work. It was time to began the fully test the limits of her knowledge and power. The books she took from her home in Booty Bay provided her with further information, but there was another book she needed. For that purpose she had to deal with something she had shunned in the past. Though with a bit of coin and investigation she found what she sought.
Phealea walked into the Slaughtered Lamb in Stormwind and with a small bit of effort, she suppressed as much of her magical auras as possible. "Can't have them seeing me at full strength. Would be disadvantageous." She thought to herself as she made her way down into the darkened basement. There all eyes turned to the newcomer. Whispers and small spells were done. To her benefit she had wore the simple clothes of a acolyte. It was sometime before someone approached her, a green haired gnome.
"Ah, a fellow acolyte. I hope you were not followed, many would see the old Arts destroyed." The gnome said with a bit of cheer in her voice.
"I was not followed. I followed the instructions of my master. He seeks a grimore. The grimore in question is one on the very nature of the Twisting Nether and its inhabitants." She said coolly as she scanned the room, attempting to act nervous.
The gnome looked up at Phealea with a discerning look. "Who is your master?" She asked plainly. "I fear my master wishes to remain unnamed. He studies in secret and attempts to avoid any connections with the Dark Arts. That is why he uses me." Phealea responded with a small bit of practiced fear in her voice.
The gnome, seemingly satisfied with the answer, turned and walked back to the group of fallen casters. The spoke in hushed whispers, occasionally looking back at Phealea. Phealea frowned as she looked about. "Cowards and weaklings. They can barely understand the truth and draw on outside powers rather than their own. Though soon, I will understand a bit more about the outside powers and bend them too to my will." She thought as the gnome returned to her with a leather-bound and chained book.
"This is what your master seeks, acolyte. Though I was told to tell you that you should be careful with such a thing. Knowledge can burn the unprepared." The gnome said with a hint of seriousness in her voice.
Phealea just nodded and handed the gnome a small bag of coin. With that she made her way out of the tavern with the book in hand. Once outside she walked to a alley and went about the process to activate her hearthstone. She had some research to do, away from prying eyes.
In the alley however, someone watched the mage vanish from view.
A dozen crows sat atop the slate roof of the inn. One, larger than the rest, looked down as the mage slipped from sight.
"Ah. The Novus Diabolus. A dark tome for one so young. Interesting." Nightshade gave a loud caw and swept noisily off the rooftop. "I needed a better way in and I think this Phea may be just the Tiger I need."
Across Stormwind, the raucous calls of a murder of crows echoed menacingly.
Phealea walked through the flush forests of Elwynn. The small time Defias bandits who stalked the forest had the sense about them to leave her alone. They were all to well informed of her status in the underworld and did not seek to bring the wrath of the mage nor her allies down upon them. Phealea was satisfied with the cut-purses leaving her be, less energy she would have to expend.
She made her way to the small house she had bought and furnished several weeks eariler. She was greeted by Daniel, her hired assistant to handle business hear while she was gone. Daniel informed that the house was ready for operation and that invitations had already been sent out to her old noble customers. Phealea nodded thoughtful as she took in the information and after a moment she told Daniel to proceed with operations. With that she made her way into the basement.
The basement was more a magical study and lab than anything else. She had anticipated the need for a second lab, just in case her engineer roommates blow up the first one. Now it will serve as her secret study to conduct business away from prying eyes.
On a large oak table she set down three books. Her own spellbook, full of her own magical theory and notes, a book of the dead, something she had relieved a necromancer on a previous trip to the Plaguelands, and the Novus Diabolus, the book of demons she had purchased from the Slaughtered Lamb. With a thin smile she sat down at her table, conjured a mug of water and began to page through the books.
First she absorbed the knowledge of multiple demons. Making notes about many of the vital parts of the Sayaad, Nathrezim, Shivarra, and Mo'arg races. In particular she made several pages worth of notes just on the hearts of those races alone.
She sighed softly as she wished for a more detailed book on the arts of the dead, but this book will give her the basics. During her research into the book of necromancy she took careful notes about the preserving the body from decay and how to channel the negative energies into something she could use. Her notes also included the anatomy of all the known mortal races, which made referencing for certain things far easier.
Lastly she chanted the power word to unlock her personal spell book and began to copy what she thought would aid her the most from her extensive notes. Then she began to pen the begins of the spells she sought to make and the ritual she intent to preform. A thin smile crossed her lips as she worked into the late hours of the night.
"Five days and everything will come to fruitation. Five days, I shall age to my eighteenth spring and end what I started eight years ago. End Syyla, deal with my father and attain more power. Nothing shall chain me any longer." She mused to herself as she continued her work.
Inside of her now frozen heart, something shook and screamed for her very soul.
It was now time to put her theory to the test. She knew she would have to start small before testing it on her intended target. For this, she reasoned, there were plenty of subjects in the forest that would be proper candidates.
It was late in the night when Phealea strode into the Elwynn forest. She took in her surrounding and frowned as she felt something was out there, just beyond her senses. She sighed and reasoned she would deal with whatever it was when it became a threat to her will. As she began to calculate who or what would have a direct interest in her, she saw the light of a small Defias camp. She stopped and began to cast, placing protective ward after protective ward upon herself. Once she was satisfied with her spells she said one word and pushed the boundaries of time and space to her will once again.
The bandits were enjoying a simple drink about the fire when the raven and blue hair girl appeared before them. A few stood and went for steel, while the rest just blinked in shock and awe. A battlecry was let loose by one of the bandits, but was cut short by a sudden torrent of arcane energy spread from the young girl. The blast ripped flesh apart and left bones smoking cinders. Most of the bandits died that instant, falling to the ground in grotesque smoking heaps. One bandit had survived, with minimal harm done to his person. He wondered if it was by sheer luck or the mercy of the Light, though in time he would wonder if it was by cruel design.
The surviving bandit, who appeared to be no older than the raven and blue hair girl, turned and ran as far and as fast as he could. As he ran with all the might his body could muster, he swore he heard the girl's voice on the wind. It chilled him to his bones as something appeared before him. A large creature made of rushing waters and golden bracers. The sound of crashing and swirling waves seemed to emanate from watery creature, as if it was communicating. Then it reached out in a quick lunge and pulled the bandit into itself. The bandit struggled viscously, attempting to free himself from the watery body of the summoned monster. He watched in horror as the demon girl stepped into view and offered him a cold, studious look. Then darkness took him.
Phealea watched the bandit break off and run. She narrowed her eyes and called for her servant, Douroon. The water elemental appeared in a instant at it's masters calling. The elemental loomed over the frighten bandit and spoke in its watery language.
"Shall I kill him, mistress?" It spoke in it's watery tongue. "No, incapacitate him." She order directly into the mind of Douroon.
The water elemental took the fleeing bandit into it's chest and held the bandit tight. Once the bandit's flailing slowed the elemental dropped the unconscious bandit to the ground. Phealea motioned for Douroon to take the fallen bandit into the house. She watched the elemental vanish into the darkness of the forest while she scanned the area one last moment. She pursed her lips and then shook her head gently. With a small sigh she too made her way back to her secret lab where the test would begin.
The bandit would die like the rest, only his death will serve the cold mage's will.