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| Details |
| Author: | Saaron |
| Summary: | Sandy goes through an important ceremony as a shadow priest. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
"Straying from the Light, we gather so that our brother can surrender to the Shadow. From its depth, he will rise, reborn. With his power, he shall subjugate the masses. With his strength, he shall embrace the Shadow. And with his own cunning, he shall shape Azeroth as he sees fit."
“Whoa. So that's what Oryena's voice sounds like”, Sandy thinks to himself. After training under her for months, she'd finally removed the thread that kept her lips sealed in front of him. All he'd learned from her were from her grimoires and her strong, judging looks.
And the reason the Dark Cleric was talking was even better than Sandy could have ever imagined. Finally, now was the time. He was officially going to become a shadow priest, with his own shadowform!
On his left, women and men of all origins. Some held candles, others censers, and finally, one was holding a grimoire bound with a texture Sandy had only ever seen in the warlock's archives.
Dark Cleric Oryena ordered her priests to act with a flick of her hands. All began dispelling magic on Sandy, removing any trace of protection he may have put on himself. A human priestess came to his side.
"By your own will, may you come back," with a hand on his shoulder, she whispered.
Dark cleric Oryena came to him next, in her dark-as-the-night robe, holding a staff burning with a sickly pale glow.
"May you find the tenacity to bend the Light into guiding your path," she proclaimed.
Setting her staff aside, she grabbed the leather-bound grimoire from her fellow officiant's hands.
"Do you, Gausanders Spellbond," she began with her raspy, terrifying voice. "Vow to renounce your life to the Cult of Forgotten Shadows, and that its members may do as they please, were you to stray too far into its teachings?"
Sandy didn't answer.
"Speak now, or remain silent forever," Oryena commands.
And still, Sandy remained silent. He'd studied well for this ceremony. He knew that silence was the way of the Cult. The Dark Cleric nodded - the proudest she'd ever seemed of him.
"Very well," with the book in her other hand, she placed three of her claws on Sandy's forehead. Dark energies began pouring from the book and flowing around them, swirling into a bubble-like shape. The Dalaran sewers had never felt as cold, dark, and empty to the young man. "Now, plunge and let it engulf you whole."
With surprising strength from her rotting fingers, Oryena pushed Sandy backward, sending him into an unending fall. Unending? Not quite so. He began floating. Floating in a dark sea, empty of all senses. No water to caress his fingers. No sights to catch his gaze. An empty, endless void.
And yet, he found comfort in this space deprived of everything. The moment of nothingness stretched in a time that wasn't even passing.
Then, the whispers began. Pulling him, closer and closer, soothing him. He was powerful. He was unstoppable. If the Burning Legion's couldn't even get him to turn on his friends, on his hope, nobody could.
He felt his body slip deeper into the Shadow, his mind slowly becoming one with it. He was unstoppable. Ungovernable.
No, no, no. That wasn't true, none of this was true. He was very easily defeated, he had weaknesses, and even a teenager was able to hurt him both physically and mentally. He was Sandy. Just Sandy. Normal Sandy. He closed his eyes, attempting to block out the darkness. He raised his hand, reaching toward this empty, boundless sky.
“Come on, Light, don't give up on me now,” he thought. “You've answered my calls from time to time in the past few months, and while it wasn't easy at all, you did allow me to heal and burn my targets.”
He prayed. He thought of Gwen, of his mother, of his brothers, of his pets, of everyone he knew and loved in Cobalt Company, and he prayed.
The Void that was softly taking him in now turned violent, emptying him of all the Light the young man could gather. He felt scoured, scrubbed clean, and left empty. But Sandy couldn't allow this to happen. He prayed with even more fervor, summoning the mental images of his loved ones while Sirie, Helyn, and her succubus were drawing him deeper into the darkness. He couldn't see them, but he knew that it was them. He heard them. Recognized them.
His prayers grew bigger, the warmth of the Light growing nearer, and then…
Nothing. Silence.
His knees felt the cold hard ground.
Sandy dared to open his eyes and watched in awe as his ghostly hands took shape again. He looked up at Oryena, who nodded approvingly once more. He did it. He mastered the Shadowform. Able to venture deep into the Void and allow the Light to guide him back.
"Rise to your feet, Gausanders Spellbond, Dark Cleric of Stormwind. Welcome to the Cult of Forgotten Shadows," Oryena exclaimed, her voice calm, but her face as intense as ever.