As Lazarus finished inside his new Queen, dark magic began to wash through him. If flowed from his loins through the his limbs, and into his heart, before leaving his body and coalescing into a small crystal. "Lethicite," whispered Eleanor, as she reached out and grabbed the tiny gem. "You made the right decision," she cooed, as the changes began overtaking Lazarus.
In short order, Eleanor had gotten the tower running smoothly again, now with her calling the shots. The glimmerlings, brewed their potions, the minotaurs trained with their weapons, and the omnibus' worked their dark magics to make the tower far more formidable than it had ever been with it's previous lord in charge. And through it all, Eleanor sat on the throne with her prized champion at her side. The great Shadow Fox of the swamp became a legend spread by any who were lucky enough to encounter it and live to tell the tale. They spoke of eerie green flames that danced around it, and the incredible skill with which it hunted it's prey. And of the strange ornament that hung from it's neck; a sterling silver plate that simply read: Lazarus.