The power does it to everyone. It corrupts us all, or at least those of us who embrace it. Although we dive right in to be swept away by the black waters of necromancy, it’s not easy for us to stay afloat. Our humanity is the coastline, the palm trees, the dry land itself. You put your humanity side by side with the fact that you’re a wizard of hell, coastline next to infinite expanse of ocean, and you decide being a wizard is more fun. It appeals to you. We know some of what he is capable of. But not all. “You spill something on yourself?” he asks me. This is him. “Move,” he says. Take him.