Chapter Text
Arrival
The Kirin Tor’s first letter had arrived in early spring. I read it dutifully, mostly because Moroes was watching. The old castellan expected at least that much from me. So I skimmed the letter once, and then more carefully a second time, feeling strong waves of irritation washing through me at its contents.
Me, take an apprentice? I don’t think so.
Well, duty might dictate that I read the letter, but that didn’t mean I had to respond. So I didn’t.
The Order hadn’t exactly attempted sing the praises of the young trainee, either. Archmage Antonidas had selected interesting words to describe the boy named Khadgar. Words like “recalcitrant” and “troubled youth” were scarcely enticing. He was the current Guardian Novitiate – the protégé in training to replace me as Guardian of Azeroth. Replacements usually came to power in one of two ways – either due to the expiration of the current Guardian’s life or his usefulness to the Kirin Tor.
No, I’m not interested in training my replacement. Especially a difficult one.
I kept my composure in front of Moroes, but when he left, I fumed rather childishly. Wasn’t that the entire reason for being holed up in Karazhan? To escape from the incessant chatter of others, the distractions from my arcane pursuits and complex research projects? Didn’t they know that defending the realm was serious work? I didn’t have time to play nursemaid.
Besides, I was not sure that I was capable of instructing an apprentice. Three long years had passed since Stormwind won the excruciating, bitter wars against the trolls. In many ways, the war had changed me. Being the Guardian had changed me. I no longer possessed the energy that I once had.
That change started slowly, and I cannot remember exactly how. One day, I realized that I was carrying a great weight. I could not describe what it was, only how it felt. Some days, it was like a grey cloak wrapped too tightly. Other days, it smelled like a rotting log. A festering wound in my chest. Apathy. Exhaustion. Numbness. The burden grew heavier each day, until I felt as though the fabric of my being was wearing thin from the carrying of it.
And so I began sending people away from Karazhan. The workers at the tower, the tenants from the lands – one by one, I dismissed them until no one was left but me and Moroes, my faithful castellan. Once a thriving, busy hub of activity, the towers were now empty and silent. I received no guests, returned no correspondence. I was left to wallow in my malaise with few interruptions, which was all that I desired.
Then the second letter arrived, as the wet spring brightened into summer. The Kirin Tor were no longer inquiring after my interest in pursuing the opportunity – they were asking when would be a good time for the boy to arrive. Perhaps after harvest, when things settled down? Archmage Antonidas asked for my prompt reply.
I didn’t respond to that letter, either.
The nerve of their assumptions was galling. Didn’t they know the Guardian of Azeroth was far too busy to bother with such things? Couldn’t the pawn the boy off on some other fool with more time and patience? I tossed the letter on my unused desk and put the matter from my mind.
Too busy. Too tired. No apprentice.
The third letter arrived on the doorstep of Karazhan, as wet and soggy as the dripping young man who delivered it. The rains of autumn were well underway, and the bare courtyard afforded little protection from the downpour.
I spied on the messenger from the tower above, seeing a tiny smudge of blue waiting patiently in the rain. Moroes had rather unkindly made the youth wait outside while he brought the letter of introduction up to my chamber at the top of the tower. While petty, this suited my sour frame of mind just fine.
“Who the hell do they think they are,” I’d snapped in irritation, pacing around the room with more vigor than I’d felt in months. “Meddling in my affairs and presuming that I have even the slightest mote of interest in their latest little upstart protégé? Asking me to prepare my own replacement, so they can be ready to put me off at a moment’s notice? I don’t have time for this, Moroes. Antonidas can take this letter and shove it right up his-”
Moroes was waiting patiently, his face as devoid of expression as ever. “If the Order had known that you didn’t intend to take on an apprentice, perhaps they wouldn’t have sent him.” He was carefully not looking at the growing pile of letters from the Kirin Tor on my desk.
I knew a rebuke when I heard one, and fought down irritation. The old bastard was right, of course. I ought to have written back. “Yes, Moroes, thank you for that reminder,” I said, with a little more snipe than was necessary. “That would have helped immensely.”
Showing no reaction to the unwonted sarcasm, Moroes tipped his head slightly to the side. A question.
“We’ll have to bring him in, I suppose. It’s wetter out there than an otter’s pocket.” I sighed, reluctant to give the apprentice false hope by bringing him inside but knowing I couldn’t very well send him away in the storm. “Feed him, get him dry. Don’t make any promises. I’ll be down eventually.”
Ignoring my colorful phrasing, Moroes nodded in acknowledgement and moved for the door. Something about the exchange felt strange, and as he left, I realized that we had not spoken so many words altogether in several spans. He and I had become accustomed to communicating with few words between us.
I stared outside the window again at the blue shape, huddling against the wall as the rain beat down.
What kind of boy is waiting down there? Arrogant, as I was? Thinking he has all the answers? Drunk on his own power? What will he make of this abandoned place, with no company but an aging castellan and a cracked Guardian? Perhaps we could use a little life in this empty tower again. If he’s not too obnoxious.
Perhaps. Karazhan’s silence wrapped around me like a comforting cloak, helping to numb my senses against the wearying burden, and I was loathe to give it up what little peace I had managed to find. Pushing my gloomy thoughts away, I made myself presentable and prepared to greet my guest.