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Chapter Text

As the Fel-Tainted Orcs ambushed both parties at Blackrock Pass, Khadgar was not too prideful to admit that he was terrified. It was only the second time that he participated in a fight and he was a mage who ran away from his training, after all. When he noticed the black clouds gathering overhead, he was relieved that Medivh had finally arrived, that there was a chance that everyone would make it out alive. Then he noticed that Lothar’s son was about to be caught on the wrong side of the impending barrier, if he judged the positions of the clouds correctly.

Ever since he met the Lion of Stormwind, the mage felt something towards him, not a romantic feeling, but like there was something… familiar about him, like he’d met the older man before. However, it was through that connection that Khadgar knew, that if Lothar ever lost his son, he would be beyond devastated. The mage knew what he had to do. Jumping off his horse and summoning his magic, he called upon a gust of wind to toss the younger man across the battle field, just as lightning formed a wall, leaving Khadgar and seven soldiers stranded on the side with the orcs. Staring up at the orc that Lothar shot with his boomstick, he swallowed, sending up a prayer to anybody who would listen, that someone, anyone, would survive this encounter.

-Point of View Switch: Anduin Lothar-

 Lothar heard the kid yelling something across the Pass, but didn’t give it much thought until he almost collided by his son as he was flying through the air. Then lightning hit the ground, and he and his soldiers cut down the remaining orcs on their side of the barrier. Turing around, he offered a hand to his downed son, trying not to snicker at the boy's petulant pout at being tossed like a sack of potatoes, by someone only a few years -if that!- older than him. Looking across the barrier, he could make out the kid blasting orcs with spells even as he and seven other soldiers were being backed up against crackling lightning.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lothar saw Llane and Garona make their escape and heaved a sigh of relief at one less thing to worry about. Turning back to the kid, who was still shouting spells, the commander yelled to the sky, “Medivh! The king is safe, stop the spell.” Frowning when the lightning didn’t dissipate, he began running at it. “Stop the spell!” Hitting the barrier and getting blasted back was not fun, as Lothar discovered, and he scrambled up in time to watch as the kid swallowed and whisper something under his breath, as the orcs came closer with the one he had shot in front.

Reaching through the lightning, Lothar placed a hand on the kid’s – no Khadgar’s shoulder, hoping to provide some support in his final moments. “Hold on, Khadgar.” He whispered. Five seconds was all he could offer, then the pain heightened and he had to withdraw. Paying no heed to the smoking limb, He stared as Khadgar opened his mouth, most likely with another spell on the tip of his tongue, but a massive hand wrapped around his throat, preventing any sound from escaping. Lothar kept his eyes on the orc as it looked between him and the mage, watched as it smiled and held up its new left hand, a metal piece with sharp ends. Watched as it buried the metal in Khadgar’s soft belly and hoisted him up, gravity making the body slip down until Lothar could see gleaming silver poke through the back. The orc bared its teeth in a smile and threw the body at the still raised barrier. It looked at him and turned, walking away with the rest of its army.

Lothar didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the body on the other side of the wall, thinking of the young mage who had died before his time. A young man who had the courage to risk imprisonment by sneaking into the royal barracks just to follow a hunch and inspect a body. He jerked back into the present when he felt a hand land on his shoulder. Turning to his son, Lothar found him staring at the body, much like he himself was doing before Callan interrupted his train of thought.

“He made a choice didn’t he.” The boy – Gods, he could have lost his son today. He is too young. – asked as he stared at the body behind him. “Him or me.” Callan turned to the elder man. “Why? Why would he do that? He knew me for all of two days? Why would he sacrifice himself for someone he barely knew?” Lothar placed a hand on his son’s head and ruffed his hair.

“Some people are just that noble.” He sighed and let his hand drop. “Why did you come back down here? Does Llane need me?” Callan’s eyes widened as he remembered the reason for him being there in the first place.

“Yeah, they found the Guardian. He was unconscious on top of that ridge there.” The young soldier gestured up at the specific location. “The King had Garona take Medivh on one of his gryphons back to Karazhan, and asked me to come find you.”

“Hopefully, all your reports don’t sound like that.” Lothar teased him as they walked away from the barrier, not noticing Khadgar’s fingers begin to twitch.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Khadgar felt whe he regained consciousness was pain. Gasping, his eyes snapped open and his hands flew to the line of holes in his belly. Quickly mumbling a healing spell, the mage sighed in relief as he felt his organs, muscles and skin knit back together. Slowly rising to his feet, he scanned the quiet battlefield, hoping that there was someone still alive. Not seeing anyone or hearing anything except the crackling lightning, Khadgar sighed and began the ritual to transport himself to Karazhan.

-Scene Change-

When he landed outside the tower, he groaned and sank to his knees, clutching his apparently still healing stomach. Note to self: teleporting with a wounded stomach is a bad idea. Swallowing back the bile gathering at the back of his throat, and muttering a more concentrated healing spell, Khadgar quickly ran passed the books and up the stairs two at a time, hoping to at least run into Moroes.

He reached the top, gasping for breath, and blinked in surprise at the sight of Garona carrying Medivh to the mana pool, Moroes hovering in the background. Taking off his cloak and tossing it somewhere, Khadgar ran over and held up the Guardian’s head from where it was hanging limply over the side of the half-orc’s arm.

“Mage?” Garona blinked in surprise and nearly lost her grip on the unconscious man. “How are you still alive?” She demanded as the two gently placed the elder mage into the glowing pool. “I saw you at Blackhand’s mercy!”

“The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” Khadgar stated absently as he knelt by Medivh’s head, watching it move as the older man gasped in a deep breath. The Guardian’s eyes shot open and the younger man jerked back as a glowing yellow-green light flitted through them. “I have to go.” Garona looked at him, having not noticed the man’s eyes opening. “I need to talk to the Kirin Tor.”

The half-orcen woman nodded, “Take the gryphon. Teleportation takes much out of you, yes? I will wait here.” Khadgar thanked her and ran. The trip down the stairs took half as long as the way up and in no time at all, the mage was flying up through the clouds, the city of Dalaran in his sights. Alighting on the balcony at the entrance to the Council Chambers, he ran up the stairs, ignoring the startled and angry yells of his name.

“What are you doing here?!” The head of the Six yelled. “You abandoned your-”

“The Guardian is unwell.” Khadgar interrupted.

The elderly man shifted slightly in surprise. “What?”

“He has been poisoned by the Fel." Khadgar paused and breathed deeply. "What is the Dark Portal?”

“You dare presume-?!” Khadgar held up the drawing that survived Medivh’s fire spell.

“What is Alodi?”

-Scene Change-

“What is it?” Khadgar asked as he stared at the black cube with strange markings continued to rotate with the help of three mages’ pink-coloured magic.

“It is an artifact from a time long before the Guardian. The knowledge of its existence has never left the sanctity of Dalaran.” The younger of the two mages nodded, catching the not-so-veiled hint. The Elder continued, “To mention the Dark Portal and Alodi in the same sentence is mere-” The cube stopped its spinning, startling the older mages into silence as a smoky black entrance appeared. “Coincidence.” The head of the Six finished faintly.

“What’s happening?” Khadgar asked, as he stared into the darkness of the doorway.

“I don’t know. This has never happened before.” The elder mage frowned thoughtfully. Khadgar heard a whisper of his name come from the shadows and, trusting his instincts, walked up the small steps and entered the dark portal. Ignoring the way the exit closed behind him, he walked forward until he saw someone curled up on the reflective ground, in a cloak made of wispy shadows.

“Hello? Alodi?” Walking closer, Khadgar realized that he recognized the figure. “I know you. You’re the one who showed me the book.” They nodded, before faltering slightly. The young mage moved to help, but they shook their head.

“I used up the remainder of my power to summon you here.” Alodi’s voice was of an elderly woman’s and as Khadgar came closer, and the reflection grew clearer, he noticed that she looked like one as well.

“What is here?” He asked, hoping for answers, but she just waved away his question.

“That does not matter, young mage. What is important is the fact that you must defeat the Guardian.”

“I can’t take on the Guardian!” Khadgar spluttered. “He’s, well, the Guardian! Of the entirety of Azeroth!” Is she insane?! Alodi smirked.

“No, I am not insane.” The young man squeaked, face red. “And besides, what is a Guardian, but someone with something to protect?” She turned to face him, and Khadgar swallowed at the sight of black eyes and the cracked skin of her aged face. “You have noticed what the Kirin Tor have not. Is that not why you left them?” Alodi asked rhetorically.

He opened his mouth, but the elderly woman ignored him.

“Trust in your friends, young mage. And remember, from light comes darkness.” She raised her hands, a light growing brighter as she did so. “And from Darkness, come light.” The light grew blinding and Khadgar shielded his eyes. When he could see again, he found himself looking at the gryphon, who was returning the stare with equal confusion. The mage blinked, then shook his head. Before he could mount it, he was stopped by a shout of his name. He turned and almost smiled at his favorite teacher, but reminded himslef that this was neither the time nor the place for happy reunions.

“Thomas, I have to leave for Stormwind!” The man nodded and handed him a letter. “What is this?”

“A letter from your parents. They told me to give it to you when I thought you were ready. I was going to give it to you on your sixteenth birthday, but before I could, you ran away.” Khadgar rubbed the back of his head sheepishly at the older man’s disgruntled glare. “No matter, read it on your way to Stormwind. Good luck and safe travels.” Thomas left and the younger man scrambled onto the gryphon.

“To Stormwind.” The creature nodded and took flight. Khadgar looked down at the letter, reading his name in a half-remembered script, and whispered a spell to create an air bubble, so he could read the note without it flying away. Opening it, his eyes scanned the words, hoping it wasn’t bad news. When he reached the end of the letter, his mind was on the brink of collapse. Oh no, this was much worse than I expected.

He was still in shock when the gryphon landed in the Roost, but the harried landing jarred him back into the present. Shaking his head to clear away the cobwebs that gathered, he rushed off to Stormwind Keep, hoping that Lothar, or at least Garona, was still in the city. Sprinting into the throne room, Khadgar cursed when only the Queen and Prince was present.

“Mage? Is something the matter?” She asked gently.

“Is Lothar here? Or Garona?” He nearly demanded, only just remembering who he was talking to. The Queen shook her head, dashing his hopes.

“No. They marched off to face the orcs with my husband, after Medivh confirmed that the rebellion against Gul’dan was going strong.” The mage cursed again, under his breath this time to avoid corruption of little ears, and started to pace. “What is the matter?” The Queen repeated, this time more forcefully. Khadgar sighed and turned to face her.

“The Guardian has been corrupted by the Fel.” The Queen’s hands flew to cover her mouth as she gasped.

“What- no! That cannot be!”

“It’s true. I had hoped that at least someone would be here to help me face him, but I guess I’m on my own.” His shoulders sagged as he thought about the impossible task he was about to begin. Turning to the Queen, he nibbled his bottom lip as his mind returned to his letter. Throwing propriety into the wind, he walked up to the Queen and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. Quickly letting go, he bowed. “I’m sorry.” He muttered before running back the way he came, not noticing that he dropped a certain piece of parchment.

The Queen knelt and picked it up, wondering what the mage had dropped in his frenzied rush out the doors. She meant to fold it up and tuck it away to give back to the younger man when she saw him again, but a single word seized her attention and the breath caught in her throat. Her knuckles whitened with the force in which she held the letter as she read it. She started crying and looked up, her face pale with shock and a hint of horror. “Oh, Belore.”

- Scene Change -

If I make it out of this ordeal in one piece, I am going to spend less time indoors reading and more time out exercising! Khadgar thought to himself as he ran to the room he had been given. Quickly finding a quill, ink and a spare bit of parchment, he scratched out a short note explaining what had happened up to this point and what he intended to do. Blowing on the ink to dry it faster, the mage placed it under the inkpot for ease of access. Sketching out the teleportation runes, he was about to end the spell when his door banged open, showing two figures. Khadgar took in the tearful eyes of the Queen and the bewildered gaze of the prince, confused, until he saw the letter in the queen’s hands.

“Milady, I-” She held up a hand to silent the mage.

“Call me Talia, if you cannot call me by a more welcomed title.” Suddenly her eyes hardened and the young man gulped at the force of the glared aimed at him. “You will return to us and explain this," she shook the parchment in her hands, "to Anduin and Llane, or you will have to answer to me. Understand?”

“Of course, mila- uh, I-I mean Talia.” Khadgar tripped over his tongue in his haste to correct himself when her glare turned glacial. “I promise?” Talia nodded and he offered a weak twitch of his lips and a faint farewell before the spell whisked him away to what was sure to be a long and hard fight ahead of him.

Chapter Text

After the ambush at Blackrock Pass, Lothar was sitting at the tavern, staring into his beer like it held the secret to the Universe. Trying to sort his thoughts, he became aware of Garona leaning against the doorframe, watching him.

“You know,” he began conversationally. “Callan’s mother died giving birth to him, and I hated him for it.” Lothar lifted his pint, swallowing deeply. “If Khadgar hadn’t sacrificed himself, I would be sitting here, drunk off my ass because my son would be dead and I would never get the chance to apologize for being a shitty father and tell him how proud I am of him.”

He drained the last of his beer, slamming it down on the bar and turned to the half Orc. “Callan’s alive, but a kid not much older than him, one whom I had tormented since the day he turned up in the Barracks, died in his stead.” Lothar dragged a hand down his face. “How am I supposed to feel about that?” Garona sat down on the stool next to him.

“I could not begin, to tell you how to feel, but I can offer you a piece of good news.” Lothar snorted.

“What? The Orcs have decided to lay down their arms and surrender?”

Garona smirked at the idea of any Orcs submitting to defeat. “No, my news is not that fantastical, but it should help you settle your misplaced guilt.”

“I highly doubt that, unless of course, you tell me that the kid’s alive and well.” He scoffed at the mere idea. “He’s dead and gone. He’s not coming back, no matter how much I wish of it.” Lothar stared off into space, waiting for his companion to agree with him. When Garona didn’t say anything, he turned and narrowed his eyes at her. “Right?” She shrugged.

“I don’t know, he certainly looked alive when he helped me, not even thirty minutes ago, put your Guardian into that Mana pool of his.”

“What?” Lothar whispered, thoughts scattered across his mind. “If the kid’s still alive, why didn’t he return with you?” He asked. It was strange how upset he was over Khadgar’s death. He had only met the boy mage a few days ago, but somehow, he was familiar, and it made Lothar want to protect him.

“He said something about needing to speak to the Kirin Tor.” Garona stopped looking puzzled, “He mentioned them, about his parents giving him to them. What are they?”

“It’s a collection of the most powerful mages in Azeroth and they teach anyone magically inclined.” Lothar answered distractedly, mind whirring. “Did he say why he needed to speak with them?”

She tilted her head, “No, but something scared him, something about the Guardian, if the way the mage was acting was any indication.” The two sat in silence both lost in thought. Lothar looked up and did a double take, not realizing the time. Turning to the bartender, he gave him coin to pay for his drink and stood.

“I have to take my leave; the King had called for a meeting earlier.”

- Scene and Time Change -

Lothar’s jaw twitched as he listened to Llane outline his “battle” plan. This isn’t a plan; this is a defensive maneuver. “Respectfully, Llane, this is not going to work. We have already lost 18 legions, leaving only 3. We need to attack these Orcs with everything we have, or we might as well be inviting them into Stormwind.”

“I agree.” Medivh appeared out of nowhere and those not used to his antics jumped. “I’ve spoken to Durotan and he says the rebellion against Gul’dan is gaining strength. With your men, my magic and the Frostwolf Clan, we may have a chance to win this war.”

Lothar stared at his old friend, remembering Khadgar’s story and Garona’s telling of the kid’s fear. Praying it was just paranoia, he tuned into the conversation just as Llane agreed.

“Very well.” The King turned to him. “Anduin, gather your troops we leave tonight.”

- Time Change -

As the citizens of Stormwind gathered to see them off, and Llane said goodbye to his family, Lothar kept his eyes on Medivh. He watched as the King rode up to him and exchanged words, before the Guardian changed forms and flew off into the night. Where ever you are kid, I hope you come find us. I have a bad feeling about this battle...

Chapter Text

When Khadgar appeared in Karazhan, he twitched at the eerie green lighting the tower currently sported and, looking down, he shuddered at the sight of Moroes’ emaciated body. Without warning, he was knocked off his feet by a blast of orange magic, causing him to scamper up into the golem’s scaffolding. Sufficiently under cover, he glanced at the balcony above him and blanched at Medivh’s twisted visage.

Shitshitshitshitshit! What to do, what to do? The younger man thought frantically as the tainted Guardian started an incantation that he vaguely recognized as the Orc’s home world’s location from his research. Knowing he had to quiet Medivh, Khadgar yelled and let loose a torrent of magic that interrupted the elder mage’s concentration.

“Very good.” Medivh praised condescendingly. Suddenly, the clay golem glowed Fel green and started talking. “Now try shutting him up.” The chanting resumed, this time coming from the monstrosity beside him.

“Please tell me you’re joking?” Khadgar deadpanned before scrambling for purchase as the scaffolding collapsed. Apparently not. Landing on the floor, he yelped as he rolled to avoid being squished by a clay fist. The golem’s other hand landed in the pool of Fel, and when it pulled it out, the clay hardened into something like obsidian. That looks useful. Was the young man’s thoughts as he dived between floors, coughing at the dust created when stone met stone.

Catching his breath, Khadgar watched as the lumbering golem climbed down, trying to find a way to ‘shut him up’ as Medivh put it. Quickly going through his paltry number of spells, he remembered the one he learnt recently. He held out a hand, palm facing the golem and waited until it faced him. Hoping that this would work, he let loose five waves of Arcane Missiles, aiming for the neck. While the magic sliced through the neck quite easily, Khadgar didn’t take into consideration was the kick of the spell in enclosed spaces.  While the head sailed through a window, shattering it, the recoil of the missiles knocked the young mage flat on his back, winded. While the golem was running into things, he was staring up at the ceiling, contemplating his previous life choices, wondering what he did to deserve this.

His eyes widened and he rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding dying via falling stones. How am I going to do this? He whined mentally as he stared at the rampaging golem. His eye narrowed in thought as he caught sight of the blackened fist and he smirked. That’s how. Now how do I accomplish – Aha!

Muttering a spell under his breath, Khadgar ran to the tainted Guardian and slowly reached out a hand to touch the older mage’s shoulder. Before the he could place it, however, Medivh lifted the younger man by his throat and threw him over the Fel pool. Quickly getting up, Khadgar began to taunt the elder man. “Was that the best you can do? I bet my grandmother could have done better!”

Appearing in the spot he let loose the missiles from*, Racing into a corner, he grabbed a stray stone and started sketching the teleportation runes. Khadgar finished the circle and threw his makeshift piece of chalk at the golem. “Hey clay-face, over here!” The golem lumbered in his direction and as soon as it touched the glowing circle, the light vanished, bringing everything in its confines with it.

Landing in the pool on his hands and knees, Khadgar gagged as he felt the Fel taunt him, whispering promises of power and knowledge, if only he accepted it. Refusing to become another Medivh, he concentrated on his friends and family, reminding himself about what he was protecting. Ignoring the temptation, he placed a hand on the fallen Guardian’s head and stood up, drawing the taint into himself.

He filled his mind with images, (Thomas and the Kirin Tor. The people he met after revoking his vows) and remembered Alodi’s advice. (Callan, Llane, Varian and Garona) “From light comes darkness,” (Anduin and Taria) “And from Darkness, light!” Khadgar opened his eyes and tried to release the Fel, but his magic had other ideas.

The young mage gasped as the smug whispers in his head turned confused, then into terrified whimpers as his magic systematically destroyed the corruptive and addictive properties of the Fel, twisting the need for life into a desire for the demonic. He screamed in pain and clutched his head as the knowledge of the Guardian Line was forcefully transferred to his mind. As suddenly as the pain began, it ended, leaving Khadgar disoriented and out-of-sorts. He straightened, breathing slowly and deeply as his new knowledge suggested in the event of any kind of increase in power.

The new Guardian blinked, finally realized that he indeed has new knowledge at his fingertips, when he heard the cry of a gryphon. “Oh shit. The battle!” He tried to leave but again, his magic intervened. Letting out a pulse, his magic drew runes in the air, and Khadgar immediately translated them into some sort of summoning spell, but for what, he didn’t know. He yelped when he felt something prick his back and he whirled around to find a broadsword, which is what poked him.

"But-" The sword prodded him harder, this time drawing blood, and he jumped. “You win, fine. Now, how am I to get to the battlefield? Without losing any more time or ending up full of holes?” Khadgar felt slightly foolish for talking to his magic, but frowned thoughtfully when his answer came in the form of another cry from the gryphon. “I’m going to have to teleport myself and that gryphon aren’t I?” His magic pulsed in agreement and he sighed. “Here goes.”

Awkwardly holding his new sword, he jumped out the window the golem’s head fell out of earlier, letting out a short scream that ended in a yelp as he landed on the circling mount. He stared at the familiar feathers before looking at the back of the eagle head. "Don’t you belong with Anduin?” The head tilted forward in a nod. “Huh.” He was silent for a heartbeat, before scratching the gryphon’s left ear. “Let’s go save your troublesome human from the nasty Orcs, alright?” The gryphon screeched in agreement and the two disappeared in a flash of blue.

Chapter Text

“I don’t think that we will survive this, old friend.” Llane commented as he, Lothar and the remaining soldiers circled the last of the surviving prisoners, providing a barrier from the Orcs surrounding them.

“You have to admit, however, that it was a good fight.” Lothar murmured as he raised his sword to ward off an advancing Orc. He was startled by a familiar gryphon’s cry, causing everyone to look up. “Who is -?” Lothar jerked his head down when lightning shot down from the sky, electrocuting the Orc in front of him.

“What is going on here?” Llane asked in shock as fire, ice and lightning rained from the sky, decimating the orcs surrounding them. “Has Medivh finally appeared?”

“No.” Garona narrowed her eyes against the sun's glare. “This is not the Guardian we have been expecting.” She watched as the gryphon descended and the rider jumped off, driving a sword he was holding into the top of the nearest Orc’s skull.

“What the hell is the Kid doing here?” Lothar cried out in shock as Khadgar ride the orc down to the ground, rolling forward through the momentum to slam his sword up into the body of an orc about to cut down the distracted King. “And how in the name of the Light is he doing that?” The mage turned around, throwing out a fireball while he was at it, and upon seeing that he was the focus of everyone’s attention, began yelling.

“We are in the middle of a fucking battle and you are wasting time staring at the only one fighting?” Quickly yelling out a spell, he fried an orc trying to sneak up on him. “Is this not your job?! I swear, by by all that is holy, if someone does not come out here and help me,” He grunted as he blocked a swing with one hand and slung a spell with his other. “It will not be pretty.” He finished. The newer soldiers squeaked and ran into the fray, finding the hulking orcs less scary then the angry mage currently glaring at them. The older warriors retained some dignity and just ran into battle. Khadgar scoffed and turned to the cowering civilians, softening his expression when one of the younger children let out a whimper.” Let’s get you off this scary and bloodied battlefield, shall we?” He yelled over his shoulder to Lothar, “Guard us, and do not let any Orcs through.”

Ignoring the commander’s sarcastic Yes sir, the mage went to work summoning the teleportation spell, drawing upon his new knowledge to do so. The children gasped in awe as the group was bathed in a gentle blue light. Khadgar shaped the mana in his fingers, transforming it into a flower, which he gave to the still whimpering child. “Here. Can you hold this?” He smiled at the slow nod. “Don’t let go now.” The mage stepped out of the spell’s range and waved his hand, sending the group to Stormwind.

He let out a shaky breath and spun around, instincts screaming, blocking the sharp prosthetic of the orc that almost killed him. Feeling his arms about to give out, Khadgar stepped back, causing the Fel-infested orc to over-balance and the mage drove his blade into his chest. Relishing the look of surprise in the orc’s eyes, the human yanked his sword out and stated, “That was for nearly killing me.”

The orc dropped to the ground and Khadgar looked up. Upon seeing most of soldiers in relatively the same spot, King and Callan included, he used the opportunity presented and summoned the rest of his magic, sending them safety. The last of his magic spent, Khadgar collapsed on his knees, almost impaling himself on his blade. He stayed there, ignoring the sounds of the gryphon carving a path through the orcs, leading Garona and Lothar to him.

“Are you injured, kid?” He jolted when hands lifted him to his feet. “Kid?” Lothar asked again when the younger man didn’t answer.

“What ever happened to you saying my name?” Khadgar muttered at his lifted his head tiredly, not quite managing to look Lothar in the eye, who smirked and ruffled his hair as the soldier steered him to the gryphon. “Medivh is dead.” Khadgar stated bluntly, to worn for subtly.

“What?” Lothar stopped as he looked down at the mage, hoping he heard incorrectly.

“Medivh is dead. Or more importantly, I killed him.” He clarified. “He was corrupted by the Fel. Turned into a demon. With horns and fire and everything. Quite striking with the green background, now that I think of it…” Khadgar trailed off and shruggeed. "Hmm."

“How-” The soldier was interrupted by a flying orc, courtesy of a miffed gryphon.

“No time. Take Garona back to Stormwind and make sure the King actually made it, would you? Not sure if I had enough magic… Anyway, I will cover you.” Khadgar waved off Lothar, who was quick to shake off his shock and decline.

“Uh, no. Kid. You are about to keel over. How about you go and I’ll stay.” The mage sent a look to Garona, who nodded in understanding.

“Lothar-” Khadgar stopped and tried again. “Anduin. Stormwind needs their Commander, and the Kirin Tor will send another mage to become Guardian. They do not need a mage that never finished his training and renounced his vows. Go, and would you tell Talia that I am sorry, that I could not keep my promise.”

“Why-” Lothar was cut off by Garona knocking him out and tossing him over his gryphon’s saddle.

“Lok’Tar ogar.” She held her fist over her heart in salute as she mounted the rearing bird.

“Victory or death.” Khadgar agreed and returned the salute as Garona flew off. He turned to the orcs surrounding him and smirked. The orcs shifted slightly and he knew that his eyes gained an eerie green tint to them. “Kagh.” He whispered as he unleashed the Fel still trapped in his body. Green light erupted from underneath the closer orcs, draining the life from their bodies. After regaining his strength, Khadgar directed the remaining energy into the ground beneath him, hoping to revitalize the area around him.

Darting past writhing bodies, Khadgar sent a fireball at what he presumed was the orc responsible for this, Gul’dan as Garona called him. The warlock swatted the spell aside but was unprepared for the downward swing of the mage’s sword. Knocking the blade to one side with his staff, Gul’dan retaliated by trying to feed the human's life force to the Fel.

However, Khadgar was quicker, and turned the foul magic against him. “This is for bringing this war into my world, bastard. Die!” The mage increased the power output of the life draining spell, hoping that it would be enough. As the orc struggled against the Fel, Khadgar unleashed the trapped power, putting everything into one final teleportation spell. The sphere extended past the boarders of the orc camp, and when the bubble popped, everything living or dead disappeared with it, leaving behind a ghost village being reclaimed by nature.

- Scene Change: Draenor -

When Khadgar touched down, he cried out in pain as the power his body held began to build. Curling into a ball, images of his sister and brothers and nephews floated behind his eyelids. I am so sorry. Pure white light exploded outward from his closed eyes and open mouth, sinking into anything that once held life. Please, forgive me. With that last thought, Khadgar fell into darkness.

Chapter Text

When Lothar came to, he found himself with a face full of feathers. After taking a moment to remember how, exactly, he got into this situation, he cursed as his memories cleared. “It’s about time you woke up. We’re about five minutes out of Stormwind.” He turned his head, glaring at the smirking half-orc, and with some fancy maneuvering, he was able to sit upright on the gryphon, not wanting to return looking like a sack of potatoes.

“Why didn’t you take the kid?” He asked her. “He had his entire life ahead of him, he would’ve had to know that he was the new Guardian.”

“He believed that you were more important and even if he did know that he was the new Guardian, did he not act like one?” Garona let Lothar chew that food for thought while the gryphon landed in the Roost.

“Commander!” A foot soldier caught his attention. “The king and queen request your presence.”

- Scene Change -

“Anduin! You are safe!” Llane dismissed the guards in the Throne Room, motioning Callan to stay by Varian, as Taria abandoned all propriety and rushed to embrace her brother. Lothar returned the hug, happy that his family was safe and relatively unhurt. Taria let go and looked behind him, ignoring Garona, who was slowly inching closer to Callan. “Where is Be-Khadgar?” She demanded, turning to Lothar.

“Yes, where is the mage? He did save most of my men and apparently became the newest Guardian while he was at it. ” Llane commented.

“The kid, uh, Mage Khadgar isn’t with us.” Lothar sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “He, uh, he stayed behind to cover, to cover our retreat. He was exhausted and I don’t think he had much magic left. I tried to take his place, but-”

“I knocked Lothar out, threw him over the side of his gryphon and he didn’t wake until we were almost to Stormwind.” Garona interrupted him, and returned his glare with an unimpressed look of her own.

“Anyway, before I was knocked unconscious, he asked me to tell you,” he gestured to the wide-eyed queen, “that he was sorry that he had to break his promise to you. What promise was that and why did he call you by name?”

Tears fell from Taria’s eyes as she covered her mouth in horror and fell to the floor. “He knew. Oh light, he knew.” The men rushed to the sobbing woman’s side.

“Taria, who knew? Who are you talking about?” The king asked, worried about his wife who usually didn’t break down in tears unless worried about her family.

“Belore*! He knew he wasn’t coming back!” She sobbed and Llane was lost, not recognizing the name. He turned to Lothar, about to ask if he knew who she was talking about, but halted when the knight was looking as if Taria lost her mind.

“Taria, sister, look at me.” He knelt before her and raised her head with his fingertips, “Belore died twenty years ago, remember?” The queen shook her head and reached into the folds of her cloak, pulling out a folded piece of parchment.

“I do not understand, who is this ‘Belore’?” Llane asked concern about a person that could bring that level of sadness in his friend’s eyes.

“Belore was our younger brother. He was born a few months before I met you and Medivh. We didn’t mention him because he was so young when he died, carried off by a wolf when our parents weren’t watching.” Lothar took the offered parchment and started reading. Halfway through, he choked and his eyes began to water. “No. This, this can’t be.” He looked at his sister. “How did you come across this letter?”

“He dropped it in his rush to battle. I found it and caught up to him before he left.” A fresh wave of tears fell from Taria’s eyes. “I, I extracted a promise from him to explain all this when he had returned, but he was hesitant to agree.” She sobbed harder. “He knew there was a large chance he would not make it!” Lothar handed the letter to Llane and wrapped his hands around his sister, pressing a kiss into her hair.

The king watched the siblings grieve and looked at the letter in his hand. Smoothing down the parchment, he began to read.

Khadgar,

I am giving this letter to the Kirin Tor member that comes for you, to be given when they think that you could handle this information. You are a foundling, and the only evidence of your prior life is the words Belore Loth that was stitched into the remainder of your clothes.

When my husband came home with you, snapping and snarling away like you had been raised by dire wolves (he found you rolling around with wolf cubs, I would not be surprised if you were!), I was concerned that you would never fit in. As I watch you carefully play with your younger siblings, I thank the Light that no remainder of the wild child he found in the trees of Duskwood can be found.

I know that you are meant for greater things than can be offered in Westfall, and I hope that you could forgive us for keeping this from you.

With love,

Your adoptive parents

Refolding the letter, Llane sat down and closed his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose to try and alleviate the headache forming. He didn’t open them until he felt his son’s hands pat his knee. “What is the matter Father? Why are Mother and Uncle Anduin so sad?”

Llane sighed and gathered Varian onto his lap. “Apparently, you had another Uncle, Belore. Your mother and uncle thought he had died when he was young, but he was instead found in Duskwood by a couple from Westfall, and was renamed Khadgar.” Varian craned his neck to look up at his father.

“He was the funny mage? He helped me play a prank on my guards!” He clapped in glee. Callan snorted, remembering the prank in question. He had wondered how all their armor turned pink, and stayed that way for hours, no matter how hard they scrubbed. Now he knew. “Then why are they crying? Shouldn’t they be happy that Uncle Belore is alive?” Llane smiled sadly at his son’s innocence, happy that he had a chance to know his uncle, even if it was for something unprincely like a prank.

“Unfortunately, Belore stayed behind to save your Uncle and Garona from the orcs and did not come back alive.”

“Oh…” Silence descended as everyone retreated into their minds. It was destroyed as a messenger burst through the doors.

“King Llane, the scouts sent to the Dark Portal are back!” The messenger, noticing the position of the royal family, bowed. “Many apologizes, my king, but I thought that you should know what the scouts had found.” Placing Varian on the ground, Llane stood.

“What have they found?”

“That is just it, my lord, they found nothing. The only evidence to suggest there was someone occupying that land was a camp that was completely destroyed by nature and the bodies of the soldiers that died in the attack.”

“Did-” Lothar’s voice crackled and he cleared his throat of tears before trying again. “Did you find the body of the mage Khadgar? Or any Orcs in the area?”

The messenger shook his head. “No, sir. They only found dead Alliance soldiers. And no one reported the find of any mage in the battle field.” Lothar and Taria looked at each other, trying to not give each other hope. “The scouts did find evidence of a large scale teleportation spell, however. Perhaps the mage teleported the Orcs away, and was trapped in his own spell?” The commander waved him away, having heard enough. When the messenger left and closed the door behind him, Lothar turned to Llane, who was already shaking his head.

“No, Anduin.” The king knew what his old friend hoped, but it was impossible. “Yes, there is no body, but you told me he had little magic left. You know how much teleportation spells cost, especially as large a scale as the one the scouts were suggesting. It is just not probable. I am sorry.”

Lothar sighed, "No, I know, Llane. I'm just wishing the kid somehow made it." He shook his head and chuckled wetly, "Kid was my baby brother and the first thing I did to him was pin him to a table and ask 'What are you doing in my city, Spellchucker?' And then he had to go and sacrifice himself to help Callan, without even realizing he was helping his nephew!"

"He will be missed." Garona, who everyone in the room forgot was there, nodded in agreement.