The Maw, Torghast, the Tower of the Damned.
Helya accompanied Sire Denathrius into the depths of Torghast, where an ancient dungeon stood. This had once been the secret prison that held Zovaal, the Jailer.
Over countless years, Zovaal had assimilated the power sealing the Maw and broken free of his runic shackles. After gaining his freedom, he had imprisoned a new captive here.
Originally, this had been a secret known only to Zovaal.
But at some point, Helya had discovered the prison in Torghast-and inside it, an emaciated Maldraxxian.
"You'd better shut that precious sword-bitch of yours up. I've had enough of her!" Helya angrily berated Denathrius's living sword, Bladesworn Revendreth. The insufferable sword spirit chattered more than a market auntie in human society.
Denathrius looked fondly at Remornia and spread his hands. "Don't you think that, as an Eternal One, having a soul you can talk to is rather entertaining?"
"Master, this... this old woman is so frightening." Remornia's pitiful voice rang out as she played the part of a mistreated young wife.
Helya shot Remornia a sidelong glance, concealed tidal tentacles flickering behind her. "Denathrius, our cooperation goes both ways. I hope you can keep your subordinate in line and show me the respect you expect in return."
Denathrius merely smiled. "There, there, my lady Helya. I know you've only recently come to the Shadowlands from Azeroth, and there are things you haven't quite grown accustomed to. You may have lived for tens of thousands of years, but the hatred in your heart still controls you. You cannot let it go. My advice is to relax and embrace new things, whether they please you or not. That way, your eternal journey won't become boring... tedious."
Remornia flew a circle around Denathrius, the anima shadows drifting over her blade