19 | THE VISITOR

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"You have suffered a terrible loss," Khadgar sighed. "But you have come to the right place. We can help you. With eyes that colour, I am not surprised you have not been able to intuit how to control it. You are like a walking leyline, your connection is chaotic, and requires intense training."

Idira glanced at him, taken aback. "It does?"

Khadgar nodded, recalling the times the others in the Council had sent Idira to fetch heavy volumes from the archives. Just the other day he had seen her struggling to carry a huge stack of books up the stairs, far too heavy for her to handle. In all the times he had seen her, she had never once lifted up her face, now he thought he understood why.

"How long have you been on library duty?"

She blinked, puzzled by his non-sequitur. "Ever since I arrived, three months ago."

Khadgar shook his head, disgusted. More petty politics, this time right under his nose. Whoever was training her must have been threatened by her unusual eyes, and instead of bringing her straight to the Council, they had assigned her to menial labour, usually reserved for those who misbehaved. Without arcane power to summon the books, hers was an exhausting, pointless task. Perhaps her mentor had hoped Idira would give up and leave.

Now he knew the truth, he was angry. Someone with latent powers like hers, who could aid in the fight against the Legion had been carrying books for three months? He stood up, and paced the length of the balcony, furious.

"From now on, you will study theory under my tutelage, and if she has the time, the Archmage Modera can oversee your practicals. Your book carrying days are finished, the Kirin Tor needs your abilities, now more than ever."

Idira opened her mouth to say something, but Khadgar raised his hand, stopping her. He continued, seething. "In three months, with diligent study, you could have already accomplished intermediate proficiencies. A needless waste."

A knock came to the door of his office, and Modera entered, followed by Kalec. Khadgar nodded at them, curt. He turned back to Idira, who had risen to her feet and was once more shrinking into herself, shy around the other Archmages. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a ring. He held it out to her.

"With this ring, you will be granted admission to my private office in the Library, where my own collection resides, some of the books there are from Karazhan, gifted to me by Medivh. You are to begin studying immediately. The first thing I want you to learn is how to conjure food and drink. You are going to need that for the long days you have ahead of you. Also, move your things out of the apprentice's quarters, and into my office in the Library. I never use it these days anyway. I won't have you tormented for being different. For all we know, you are destined to become an Archmage. Carrying books. Bah!"

Clutching the ring against her chest, Idira fled Khadgar's office. He returned to his desk and sat down, still angry. Modera arched an eyebrow.

"What was that about?"

Khadgar flung his arm in the direction of the Arcane School's campus. "Politics. Pride. The Legion need not worry about defeating us, we are doing a good enough job of it ourselves."

Kalec crossed his arms. "Speaking of politics, you have a visitor."

Khadgar waited, defensive, praying it wasn't Jaina returning to continue her campaign against the Horde's presence in the Kirin Tor.

Kalec tilted his head toward the closed door. "Malfurion wants to speak to the three of us. He is waiting outside with a face like thunder."

"Malfurion?" Khadgar felt a tremor of apprehension. Malfurion was supposed to be dealing with the Nightmare. Khadgar stood up, thinking of Tyrande's recent visit. He still had not thought of a way to bring up the subject of Illidan's body to the others--it was on his list of things to do. Well, it seemed the time had come, this was going to be about her, of that Khadgar had no doubt. "By all means, bring him in."

Modera nodded at the door. It opened, silent. In the hallway, Malfurion paced back and forth, lost in thought. He looked up, startled.

Khadgar crossed the room, and bowed to the Lord of the Night Elves. "Archdruid Malfurion, please join us. Forgive me for having kept you waiting."

"Archmage Khadgar, thank you for seeing me, and on such short notice," Malfurion said, his voice empty. He walked into the centre of the room, and greeted the others with a nod of his head. Khadgar lifted his fingers, and traced a small rune in the air. The door closed with a quiet thud, he sensed his spell locking in place, sealing their conversation from eavesdroppers.

Khadgar eyed Malfurion as he returned to his desk. The changes were subtle, but Malfurion looked different, as though the entity inside Malfurion that made Malfurion who he was had been stripped away, leaving only an image of the being he once was behind. But there was something else, an aura which clung to the night elf. Something dark and bleak. It grieved Khadgar to see one of Azeroth's greatest champions in such a state. He wasn't sure, but he suspected Malfurion would never recover from what had been done to him in the Nightmare. Varian, Vol'jin, Tirion, even Jaina, in her own way, had been lost to Azeroth because of the Legion. And now Malfurion, too. When would it end?

Depressed, he returned to his desk and gestured at one of the nearby sofas. "Please make yourself comfortable . . . is there anything you would like for refreshment?"

Malfurion glanced at the sofa. "I'd rather stand, and thank you, no."

Khadgar moved in front of his desk. He would have loved to sit, but if Malfurion was going to stand, then everyone had to, it was protocol. He did lean, just a little, against the desk.

"Of course," he nodded at the Archdruid. "What can we do for you?"

Malfurion's expression hardened. "I won't waste your time. Tyrande has been taken by Gul'dan."

Khadgar felt a tingle of deep alarm. He caught the surprised look which passed between Modera and Kalec. He pushed away from the desk, now was not the time to jump to conclusions. "How?"

"A portal from the Chamber of the Eye into her den in Moonglade's barrow. I could not stop him. I--" Malfurion fell silent, fighting to control his emotions.

When he remained silent, Modera broke in. "Khadgar, we are still waiting for you to tell us what Tyrande came to you about." She glanced at Kalec. He nodded, encouraging her to continue. "I think now would be a good time."

Khadgar sighed. "Very well. She came to tell me Illidan lives. Gul'dan has been stripping Illidan's soul piece by piece from the Twisting Nether and feeding it into Illidan's body, corrupted. Illidan is to be Sargeras's avatar. Once Gul'dan has completed the transition, Illidan will rise up, and lead the demons against us. Against him, Azeroth will fall."

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