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As her body rested, her spirit felt weak and vulnerable. It trembled from exhaustion, but it could not rest for spirits never do. Zenovia's spirit felt something tug at it. It was being called somewhere.. Who could it be? Her mentor was the only one who would usually do these things, but she was no more than a spirit that guided her now. The summons felt ominous.. But she decided to answer it anyway; her curiosity getting the better of her. Her spiritual body left her physical one, letting it rest. Should anyone be looking at Zenovia, they'd notice small lines of light blue trailing her skin, however the sight of them would not cause any alarm. Her spirit body represented her physical one, except it was a ghostly light blue with a hint of yellow at the heart. Specks of light gently sparked off her, fading as they slowly fell to the ground. However, those who aren't trained or knowledgeable in spirits would not able to see her metaphysical body.

Almost immediately after leaving her body, she noticed a ghastly hand appear above her. She let it touch her forehead, knowing what it might be. The beast. The Warlock. His spirit called to hers. Despite the pure malice in his heart, she felt no fear. Planeswalking wasn't anything special for Spirit walkers like herself, even if their spirit had been weakened. The shaman accepted the call to the Void, knowing that she would come back. She closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them to see her new surroundings. An empty throne room, with almost nothing but one other. The Warlock himself. 

[color=6ecff6]"To what do I owe the pleasure, Warlock?"[/color] She asked in a calm manner, her expression quite blank with a hint of curiosity.