We become what we need to.

[Isabella Black]

The girl had ventured out into the night, everyday since she could bother to remember. Determination seemed to be the only thing in her eyes, that made sense, laced with a slight crazed expression if you dared to gaze any longer. The trees, graves and the darkness that hovered over her were the only things she was close to at this point. Now as the girl stood, the wind slightly whipping her dark locks around, Isabella showed a tiny amount of emotion. The brief flicker of her eyebrow. While her eyes glowed dark, her hands out in front of her. Something had occurred. Something good.

Blinking, Isabella's violet-red eyes stared at the incorporeal form in front. The silvery silhouette of a man, floating with the brief flicker, almost as if it would became solid. The man's face was neither rotten or dead looking, as Isabella had first thought would happen, no.

The figure held onto it's human qualities. Appearing quiet disturbed by the sudden situation, yet no words were spoken. Isabella continued to stand, her hand still raised from conjuring the spiritual corpse. It had been surprisingly easy, the last bit of magic needed, not a ritual. Or maybe it had been because of her own genetics, it had been simple.

Moving her hand into a wave, Isabella intended to make the figure solid. So that it could interact with the world. It's form flicked out of existence, making Isabella's eyebrows tilt up in surprise, before the corpse reappeared. As solid as Isabella. Allowing a small smile in success, Isabella stepped forward. Her hand slowly stretched out, her fingers ghosting over the face, feeling the cool, dead skin beneath them.

The corpse was now tangible. Capable of being touched. Now it would be able to touch things, even if it didn't realise just what it's existence meant. The idea, the need for the corpse to be seen as human, and not inferi was important to Isabella. How was she to hide what they were, if they looked just like rotten bones on a string? No, Isabella knew what she was doing. Necromancers of old should of thought of that.

The corpse's eyes followed her every movement, the hollow white-blue staring straight at her. Taking a step back, Isabella preformed a few simple motions with her hand and with them, the corpse lifted it's legs, and stared to walk a few steps. With it, an expression, Isabella could only describe as wonder filled it face. Confused with it's own body, and probably confused with the world.

Soon, Isabella would just need to think of what she wanted the corpse to do, and her command would be fulfilled. Soon, an army of the dead would be her's to command.