Into the Light

EPILOGUE

Within his sanctuary, Khadgar lay on his bed and stared at the bed's canopy, numb. He couldn't bear it, the ache of her absence. He wished for the hundredth time Kalec had left him to drown in the collapsing Tomb. A thought struck him. He sat up and rubbed his hand over the stubble on his jaw, considering. He could use the font to go back in time and see Idira again, when she lived and studied here for those few precious days. To be able to see the soft curve of a smile on her lips--even if he couldn't touch her--it would be better than this emptiness . . . this nothingness.

He shook his head, thinking of his life before Idira had tumbled into it, marvelling at his blissful ignorance, his unawareness of how stark his life had been before she had caught his heart. He had thought his work with the Kirin Tor had completed him, that he had wanted for nothing. He had never understood those who were driven by the passions of their heart--but now he knew. Now he understood what love could do to a person. He recalled Medivh's brooding over Garona, and Varian's desperate grief over Tiffin's sudden death. Now he understood why Stormwind's King had become so hard afterwards, and why he had never loved again despite having plenty of admirers. Once the heart was claimed, there could only be the one. Khadgar looked at Idira's empty coffee mug on the bedside table and scoffed, bitter. But Varian and Medivh had had so much more time than he had had. Years. They had even had children with their loves. Khadgar had been granted mere days, and most of those had been squandered on preparations for the attack against the Broken Shore.

Bitterness clutched at him. How could Azeroth betray him like this? He had always been faithful and dutiful in his service to her. He had overcome his own mentor, and later refused the temptations of the Legion's power for himself. And for what? A brief affair, that ended almost before it had begun? For Idira to be torn apart by the very forces that inhabited her? He shuddered, as a wave of fury struck him. She would have suffered so much. She was still human after all. And she had suffered alone. She had always been alone. No more.

He rubbed his eyes, gritty from grieving, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He would use the font and find her again. He would drink in every detail of her, making up for his wastefulness of having taken her presence for granted. Outside of time, she would live again. He would stay there with her until his body died of thirst, leaving him trapped in the font's timeways with her for eternity.

He stood. In the corridor, a door closed, soft. He turned, his senses prickling. He was certain he had teleported here. Had he instead used a portal, and left the way open from his office? He couldn't remember, he had been demented with grief when he left. If Kalec had followed him . . . Khadgar shook his head, angry. How dare he.

Khadgar moved to the bedroom door and leaned out. Blue light glowed around the edges of the closed door to the library, playing against the walls and floor of the corridor. It looked like the light of a portal. Kalec must have broken Khadgar's wards and followed him. Khadgar cursed. How could he have been so careless as to leave a portal open to this place? He strode down the corridor and shoved the door open, bristling, furious.

The room pulsed with arcane energy. The books fluttered, excited, spiralling toward the library's centre. Violet streaks bloomed under Khadgar's feet, marking out a path for him to follow. He narrowed his eyes, suspicious, what childish game was Kalec playing? Gripping his staff, Khadgar followed the blossoming trail. Beautiful curlicues of violet energy spread away before him, beckoning him forward.

They led him to the library's centre, where his desk and chair stood. The violet streaks ended at his chair, its high back blocking his view of the intruder. He strode forward and spun the chair around, expecting to find Kalec.

The words he intended to say died on his lips. Idira looked up at him, whole once more. She smiled. His heart lurched. He sank to his knees, stunned.

"Idira? How is it possible?"

She touched his face and traced the outline of his jaw. He closed his eyes, his throat tight, as he realised her touch was not the touch of a living woman. He felt her leaning forward. She kissed him, soft. It was almost the same, but something was missing, she was missing. He opened his eyes. She waited, watching him, uncertain. She bit her lip. He realised she was worried he would reject her gift. He shook his head. He would not, he could not.

He reached out and took her into his arms. She nestled against him, tucking her head against his neck, just as she had done in the brief time they had had together. He stroked her hair, his heart aching.

An echo. She had left him an echo of herself. She had prepared for this. Instead of thinking of her own fate, she had thought of him. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. She waited for him as he undressed. He lay down beside her, and took her into his arms, holding her against him, fresh tears burning in his eyes. He wasn't alone anymore. She might not be able to speak, and he could never be intimate with her, but just to have her there with him, an echo of the one he had loved . . . it was enough, he could go on and fulfill the duties he knew were waiting for him back in Dalaran. He kissed her, his heart filled with gratitude. It was enough.

It would be enough.

He closed his eyes, and slept.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading my book! Please do leave a comment, would love to hear your reactions! Be well, my friends ♡