For the next day, there was the odd feeling of another presence in the tower, a new planetary body
whose very gravity changed the orbits of all the others. This new planet caused Cook to shift to a larger
set of pans, and Moroes to move through the halls at more random times than normal. And even Medivh
himself would send Khadgar on some errand within the tower, and as the young mage left he would hear
the whisper of a heavy cloak on the stonework behind him.
Medivh volunteered nothing, and Khadgar waited to be told. He dropped hints. He waited patiently.
Instead he was sent to the library to continue his studies and practice his spells. Khadgar descended the
curved stairs for half a rotation, stopped, then slowly climbed back up, only to see the back of a black
cloak glide into the Guardian’s laboratory.
Khadgar stomped down the stairs, considering options of who the Emissary was. A spy for Lothar?
Some secretive member of the Order? Perhaps one of the members from the Kirin Tor, the one with the
spidery handwriting and the venomous theories? Or maybe some other matter entirely? Not knowing was
frustrating, and not being trusted by the Magus seemed to make matters worse.
“We’ll be told when we need to know,” Khadgar muttered, stomping into the library. His notes and
histories were scattered on the tables, where he left them last. He looked at them, and the schematics of
his vision-summoning spell. He had made a few amendments since his last attempt, hoping to temporally refine its results.
Khadgar looked at the notes and smiled. Then he picked up his vials of crushed gemstones, and headed
downward—putting additional floors between himself and Medivh’s audience chamber—to one of the
abandoned dining halls.
Two levels lower was perfect. An ellipsoid of a room with stone fireplaces at each end, the great table
put into service elsewhere,“You do not negotiate with your betters!” snapped the mage.
“Why did you bring the orcs zxchanxiang to Azeroth?” asked Khadgar, pleading now.
“It is none of your business, child. Youwill come aion power leveling here! Now!” The Magus’s face was livid and twisted.
“With respect, sir,” said Khadgar, and his words felt like dagger-thrusts, “no, I will not.”
Medivh thundered aion power leveling in rage. “Child, I will have you…” and as he spoke, he stepped into the room.
Sparks flew up at once, bathing aion power leveling the older mage in a shower of light. The Magus staggered back a step,
then raised his hands, and muttered a curse.
“What?” began Garona.
“Circle of Warding,” snapped aion power leveling Khadgar. “To keep summoned demons at bay. The Magus cannot cross
it.”
“But if it only affects demons, why not? Unless…” Garona, looked at Khadgar. “No,” she said. “Can
the circle hold him back?”
Khadgar thought of aion power leveling jackstraw laid across the wards in the tower at Stormwind, and at the energy
blossoming by the doorway. He shook his head. the ancient chairs lined across the wall from the single entrance. The floor was
white marble, old and cracked but kept clean by Moroes’s relentless industry and drive.
Khadgar laid out a magic circle of amethyst and rose quartz, still grinning as he laid out the lines. He was
confident in his castings now, and did not need his ceremonial conjuration robes for luck. As he laid out
the pattern of protection and abjuration, he smiled again. He was already shaping the energy within his
mind, calling the required shades and types of magic, conforming them to their requisite shape, holding
that fertile energy in abeyance until it was needed.
He stepped within the circle, spoke the words that needed to be spoken, made the motions with his
hands in perfect harmony, and unleashed the energy within his mind. He felt the release as something
connected within his mind and soul, and he called the magic forth.
“Show me what is happening in Medivh’s quarters,” he said, his mind giving off a nervous tic, hoping that
the Guardian’s wards did not apply to his apprentice.
Immediately, he knew the spell had gone wrong. Not in a major fashion, with the magical matrices
collapsing upon themselves, but in a slight misfire. Perhaps the wards did work against him, redirecting his
vision elsewhere, to another scene.

He knew he was off by several clues. First off, it was now daylight, Second, it was warm. And last, the
location was familiar.
He had not been here before, exactly, at least not in this particular spire, but it was clear he was at
Stormwind Keep, overlooking the city below. This was one of the taller spires, and the room was similar
in general design to that where the two members of the Order had met their end months earlier. Yet here
the windows were large and opened onto great white parapets, and a warm scented breeze stirred
diaphanous draperies. Multicolored birds perched within golden hoops around the perimeter of the room.
Before Khadgar a small table was set with white porcelain plates edged with gold, the knifes and forks
made of the precious metal as well. Crystal bowls held fruits—fresh and unblemished, the morning dew
still clinging to the dimples of the strawberries. Khadgar felt his stomach rumble slightly at the sight.
Around the table hovered a thin man unknown to Khadgar, narrow-faced and wide-foreheaded, with a
slender moustache and goatee. He was draped in an ornate red quilt that Khadgar realized must be a
dressing gown, cinched at the waist with a golden belt. He touched one of the forks, moving it a
molecule’s length sideways, then nodded in satisfaction. He looked up at Khadgar and smiled.
“Ah, you are awake,” he said in a voice that almost sounded familiar to Khadgar as well.
For an instant, Khadgar thought that this vision could see him, but no, the man was addressing someone
behind him. He turned to see Aegwynn, as youthful and beautiful as she had been on the snowfield. (Was
it earlier than that date? Later? He could not tell from her appearance.) She wore a white cape with
green lining, but this was made of silk now, not fur, and her feet were shod not in boots but in simple white sandals. Her blond hair was held in place with a silver diadem.




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