Into the Light

21 | KHADGAR'S SANCTUARY

"Kalec is right, Khadgar," Modera concurred. "Until we understand what is happening, and why, we cannot take any chances. This must be brought to the attention of the full Council of Six, Khadgar can you speak to them while I go to Anduin? And Kalec--can you manage Sylvanas?"

Kalec winced. "Not without one of her own to provide me with a safe escort."

Khadgar realised Kalec had raised an excellent point, and, if anything, having the major leaders within Dalaran and under the protection of the Kirin Tor might go some way to helping him with his agenda to bring the aggrieved parties together long enough to fight as one against the Legion. The more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed. Kalec had just offered him the solution to his dilemma on a platter. He looked up.

"We are going to need to talk to Aethas Sunreaver, if he is with us, then we may have a way in to Sylvanas. Archmage Karlain worked hard to smooth the way for the Horde to re-enter the Kirin Tor, and spoke well of Aethas, ensuring the vote was swayed in Aethas's favour. If anyone of us should approach Aethas, it should be him."

"I will speak to Karlain," Kalec said.

Khadgar rubbed the back of his neck. Now he had found a way forward, new concerns had begun to trouble him. "We must be careful how much we reveal to the others. All they need to know is Gul'dan is transforming Illidan into Sargeras's avatar and Tyrande has been taken to the Chamber of the Eye. It is better if they do not know where Tyrande's spirit is, at least not right now. It is possible there is a connection to her being in the Nether and Gul'dan having taken her. He may have no interest in the others at all."

"So you intend to use fear for their own safety to motivate the leaders to cooperate?" Modera asked, a note of surprise in her voice. "It is not like you to deceive."

Khadgar turned on her, irritable. "Azeroth's existence is at stake, this is no time to be splitting hairs. Do you see that stack of papers on my desk? Everyone is coming to me for answers because Azeroth has fallen into chaos without Vol'jin and Varian. And now, with Tyrande gone, and Malfurion suffering from the Nightmare, who is left? I have resisted as long as I could, hoping Anduin would manage Greymane, and seek to mend things with Sylvanas but he has done nothing. Now I know what Gul'dan is doing, it means the leadership of the next attack against the Legion has fallen upon my unwilling shoulders. So, Modera, I will do what I must to hold every advantage, even if it means having to withhold information from the others, for now."

Modera lifted an eyebrow but chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

Kalec nodded at Khadgar. "I agree with Khadgar's decision, it is for the greater good. We don't have the luxury of time to persuade them to get along. We can tell the truth later and face the consequences once Azeroth is safe."

"Then we are in agreement?" Khadgar asked, impatient to begin.

"I will go along with it, but I don't like it," Modera admitted. "I have a bad feeling this is going to come back to haunt the Kirin Tor in a way the Council may never recover from. If Jaina hears about this-"

"We'll worry about that if it happens," Khadgar snapped. He had forgotten about Jaina. She would be a massive problem should she decide to make a reappearance while Sylvanas was in residence. He pushed the worrying possibility aside, continuing, "I realise I am risking much. We might even be cast out. As for me, it is a chance I am willing to take, unless you have a better idea how to motivate the factions to reside in one place, and begin to work together to stop what is to come?"

Modera pressed her lips together and shook her head.

"Then let us proceed. Kalec, can you make arrangements for Malfurion? There is one thing I must do before I speak to the Council. I will be back in two hours, have them meet me here."

Kalec nodded, and moved to the door. Khadgar murmured a quick spell and the barrier against eavesdroppers vanished. Kalec and Modera departed, subdued, lost in their own thoughts. As he waited for Malfurion to be taken away, he paced the length of his office, trying to organise his thoughts. There was so much to do, and only one chance to get it right.

A quiet knock at his door brought his attention back to the present. Two burly liveried attendants entered the room carrying a stretcher, they knelt and hefted Malfurion onto it and left, unobtrusive. Khadgar waited until he could no longer hear their booted footsteps in the hallway before closing the door and sealing the space from prying eyes and ears once more.

He went to the centre of the room and cast a teleportation spell. The structure of his office shifted and blurred, morphing into another room, just as elegant and well appointed, but instead of just the three bookshelves which adorned his office, the walls of this room lay lined from floor to ceiling, and wall to wall with shelves, laden with ancient tomes. The letters upon the spines of those nearest to him glowed, resonating to the presence of their master. He smiled. Karazhan. It was good to be back. He pressed on, he had no time to dawdle if he was going to make it back to his office within two hours.

He went to the door. Several books fluttered after him, eager to greet him. He shook his head, and sent them back to their places, warning where he was going would not be safe for them. Their pages rustled, indignant, but they settled back into their positions, their glowing letters fading as they returned to their deep slumber.

Khadgar sighed, longing for the days when he had had time to spend here, just learning. There was still so much he did not know, so many books he longed to read. After Medivh fell, and evil began to encroach the fortress, Khadgar had rushed to save what books he could from Medivh's vast libraries. He hadn't had much time, and had had to leave many volumes behind, some of them utterly irreplaceable. He had worked night and day, eating and drinking conjured food as his reach into the halls of the fortress lessened. He had had seven days of reclamation before he had had to flee, taking this portion of Medivh's home with him. When he departed, he had sat on the floor of the library and grieved the loss of so many books and artefacts. The surviving books had gathered around him, mournful, missing their companions. But at least he had this, a small piece of Karazhan's glittering past, untainted by the darkness his misguided master had brought to Azeroth.

He left the library, and hastened down the corridor to another door. He cast a rune, which matched the engraved panel set in the wall beside the door and uttered a spell. The rune descended onto the engraving. Blue light shimmered across the door's panels, breaking the seal protecting it. The thick door creaked open. A heavy shower of dust fell from the lintel onto Khadgar's shoulders and head. He coughed and shook his head, the dust cascading down around him, sparkling in the light of the room's arcane torches. In the middle of the small circular room, a plain stone font stood in the centre, its base unembellished, stark, and ancient.

He approached it, wary. Inside the flattened basin, a metallic silver surface lay perfectly still. He peered into it. A ripple broke the meniscus as it stirred from its long period of quiet. Khadgar felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Despite knowing there was no one else there, he looked back at the door, defensive. He had chosen to take this section of Karazhan, because it had long been concealed by Medivh to hide this very room. Not even Moroes had known of this place.