Transformation: In which healing fails

Sebbat, changed into a living tree, swayed back and forth, chanting quietly, his amber, bark-covered limbs glowing brightly with the power of his healing magics. Yrovi lay on the ground at his roots, bathed in the green light. Tyra, a Sin'dorei paladin, had joined the druid in his work, and the golden power of the Light flowed and intertwined with the power of nature.

I watched, silent, worried. Though I could tell that both of them were pouring all their power and knowledge into helping her, she didn't awaken... she didn't even move. I sat quietly, unmoving, my gaze unwavering, with the patience that only the dead have. I didn't even stir when I was joined on each side by familiar Forsaken.

"No change, then?" asked the one on my right, his voice gravelly. I said nothing. He shrugged a bit, and watched our leader and the paladin work. His companion glanced my way, but said nothing... though this was not unusual, since he was missing his jaw. Karrim and Cobb, a mage and warlock, one rarely seen without the other. The warlock's imp minion opened his mouth to speak, but, thankfully, Cobb silenced him with a kick. The last thing I wanted to hear was that screeching voice, no matter what it was meaning to say.

Slowly, the glow from Sebbat and Tyra faded, and I could see sweat beading on the lady's face. Even Sebbat appeared ashen, his usually golden leaves almost grey in the starlight. Yrovi still hadn't moved.

The paladin approached me, her face wary. "Purah," she began, and my gaze shifted from the comatose warrior to her green eyes. She winced and took a half step back, but continued, "We don't understand... Everything we do, every spell we use, all the power we pour into her body and soul is simply absorbed. Nothing we do seems to work. I'm... I'm so sorry."

She moved to lay a hand gently on my arm, but Karrim blocked her, shaking his head. He knew me well, and knew that the last thing I wanted was a comforting touch. I felt cold inside... empty and dark, and I could feel my eyes unfocus as her words set in. "Nothing?" I stood slowly, feeling a dangerous strength build inside, and though Tyra was tall, I still stood over her. "Nothing?" My voice was nearly a whisper, but it hit her with force, and she took another step back, her expression worried. My fingers twitched near my runeblade's hilt.

"Enough, 'Rah," the undead mage said, quickly moving to block my path. "We'll find something that will help, some way to bring her back, pull her out of this..."

I didn't notice that Cobb had pushed past us, his tattered robes sweeping the stone as he shuffled quickly over to Yrovi. His imp cowered a bit, but followed obediently after. The jaw-less warlock pulled out a ceremonial dagger, one that had seen a great deal of use, from the looks of it, and used it to cut open Yrovi's arm. I wanted to stop him, but if Sebbat and Tyra couldn't save her, then I'd let him try, no matter how terrible the magic.

She had no blood to bleed, but the athame didn't seem to need actual blood for whatever spell the warlock was hatching, as a stream of dark magic pulsed between him and Yrovi as soon as the cut was made. His yellow eyes glazed over and flickered, and what was left of his face contorted into a grimace of what appeared to be pain. I knew something was wrong when even his imp began to keen. He shuddered, then, and collapsed to his knees, but still the spell continued, unwavering, through his sheer force of will.

I moved to stand at his side, and though I wasn't fond of Cobb, or his magic, I placed a hand on his bony shoulder to steady him. He seemed lost in his spell, whatever it was, and reached into his robe to pull out a light-purple crystal, a soul shard, I realized. The magical bind that linked him to our warrior pulsed and brightened, swirling up and into the crystal. It filled it with light... and then vanished, the spell broken. Yrovi remained still, and Cobb seemed exhausted with the effort. The soulstone was dark.

His imp coughed and sputtered, clutching at its neck, "It... it was too powerful... the thing, the blackness that has her. I couldn't pull her out. I couldn't..." The voice was forced, and less grating than usual, and I guessed that Cobb had spoken through the little demon. I squeezed his shoulder in silent thanks, though the demon looked irritated.

"You tried, at least. For that, I thank you," I said quietly, so that the warlock alone could hear. I felt as I had when I had died. I could feel nothing but pain, and my mind was clouded with grief. Cold gripped my heart and turned it to stone, just as it had when I had been raised from the dead to serve the Lich King... and then, I heard a gentle chiming in my head, and a warm light that melted my frozen heart again, pushing back the cold.

{Bring her to me.}