Beneath broken stone and warped metal, a solitary raven panics as it senses imminent danger. It escapes certain death mere seconds before the structure finally crashes to the ground. On soaring above the devastation, the bird spies a wet-eyed woman...
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My journey of self-discovery began with an incident which would change my life forever. I had happened across Anduin Lothar, a knight of Azeroth.
A camp of soldiers was discovered decimated, the corpses pummelled, beaten, but there was no clue as to what had attacked them.
On examining one of the bodies, I became alarmed when it exuded a foul, green essence. From my teachings in Dalaran, I realised this was a rare, more potent and dangerous sorcery than any I practised. Fel magic.
The Alliance monarch, King Llane then sent us to secure the services of the Guardian, Medivh.
Initially, the Guardian displayed many objections, chiefly where I was concerned. Endeavouring to glean knowledge from him was like trying to squeeze blood from a stone.
Gradually, however, he started to trust me, and I was thrown snippets of information like a hungry dog would be tossed scraps from the butcher's table.
I was issued the task of organising his extensive library in Kharazhan, a mystical tower deep in the mountainous region of Deadwind Pass. I spent many a long day and night cataloguing books, scrolls and maps, bringing order to everything within.
It did, in turn, provide me with a comprehensive knowledge of thaumaturgy - and a hunger for more which just could not be sated. I devoured script after script, tome after tome, making detailed notes for personal use as I worked.
Eventually, my relentless curiosity led me to a particular discovery.
For the most part, I had considered my mentor to be somewhat eccentric. He was often mumbling to himself – not the kind of muttering when one is trying to work out some spell with its various elements. No, Medivh seemed to carry out regular conversations with – someone – something.
Over time, I watched with growing sadness as this man, the Guardian, whom I had come to respect, decline in his majesty, become unhinged.
He had not merely been driven mad by his genius, or responsibility or even his loneliness; he was possessed. I learned dark forces had grown within from when he was in his mother's womb.
And then I discovered he was conducive in opening the Dark Portal, allowing our land to be invaded by Orcs effectively starting the First War and bringing Fel magic to our shores.
My destiny, as it turned out, had been to oust the Guardian's most unwelcome and destructive "conscience"; Sargeras. But in the battle to save Medivh, as well as our world, his life was also sacrificed.
As a result, not only was my tutelage under the Guardian lost, but also my youth. The act of murdering my mentor, my friend, as he had eventually become, aged me considerably, well beyond my teenage years.
I was cursed, plagued by what I had done, even though it had been necessary. My real journey then began.
With the gradual acceptance of my fate, a new, more voracious determination rose within, and this led me, amongst other things, to close the Dark Portal. By barring the doorway from Draenor to Azeroth, I would halt the Burning Legion from ever invading our world again.
An act, as it turned out, to be only a reprieve.
The way was reopened once more, and battles ensued against Orcs, the New Horde, and the ever-present threat of the Burning Legion. Not forgetting more recently - The Void.
My mind was torn from its reverie, and my focus temporarily shifted. How long I had lain amid the leylines I knew not, but, decades of my life had unfolded in minute detail.
The thrumming of energy continued. My part in the history of Azeroth moved swiftly forward, straight to the "final" destruction of the Dark Portal, mere days before.
In the likelihood I would not escape before the portal collapsed, I had put a plan in place toward my survival - down to the last detail. Alas, not everything goes according to plan.
That was the last time I saw my Sarah while I was still a man; when I was still - Archmage Khadgar of the Kirin Tor.
The air suddenly stilled.
The silence was brutal, more thunderous than the deep thrum of the leylines moments before. My head was pounding from its intensity; my ears felt near to bursting. I felt nauseous, weak.
Distantly, I heard the panicked beat of my heart start to penetrate the quiet.
The final pieces of the puzzle were now in place. I now knew exactly who, and what I was, and that which would be required to make me whole once more.
I only prayed the clues I had left behind had been discovered. And I desperately hoped the one I knew who could carry out my instructions, would be willing to do so.
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