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The young mage gathered himself resolutely. He had to speak to Lothar. There had to be a reason that the Guardian had been so enraged by his research. He would show the commander the drawing he still had of the Great Gate, the beckoning figure, seeming to invite the orcs through the portal into Azeroth. Numbing his mind to everything else, he focused on finding Lothar. The commander would know what to do.
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“Lothar! I need your help.” Khadgar skidded to a halt in front of him. Babbling about some book he’d been researching and waving a parchment.
“Found a book? Of course you did.” Equal parts amused and annoyed, the warrior rolled his eyes. Distracted at first, he grew serious listening to Khadgar explain his research, showing him a sketch of the Great Portal and saying the orcs had been invited into Azeroth. And Medivh….
“And the Guardian burned your research,” Lothar spoke slowly, trying to digest the importance of what Khadgar had found. He was unsettled, and the genuine fear written on the boy’s countenance wasn’t helping. The Guardian’s actions seemed over the top. “He was probably trying to protect you.” Lothar meant the words kindly. “Now. Go away.”
Khadgar stared, mouth forming a tight line. He turned wordlessly to leave.
Seeing the hurt in his posture, Lothar regretted the dismissal immediately. “Mage. Wait.” He struggled to articulate, the words sounding lame even to himself. “The Guardian is dealing with a lot of pressure right now. I know how you feel about him, and he’s probably -”
The boy stiffened, eyes flashing. “You have no idea how I feel about him.” Khadgar looked away, then exhaled deeply, choosing his next words carefully. How could I tell him? Would he believe me? “How well do you know the Guardian?”
Lothar was surprised. “He’s been my friend since boyhood. We grew up together.”
By the Light, the pup is sensitive today. Medivh must have really rattled him. What happened?
Khadgar’s tone was measured, neutral. “Has he ever been…um…violent?” The boy was not meeting his gaze.
Lothar could see what was happening. As the Guardian Novitiate with the Kirin Tor, Khadgar had probably idolized the Guardian for his entire life. Looked up to him, obviously wanted to help him and be respected. He’d probably hoped that Medivh would embrace his assistance, maybe even take the boy under his wing. Instead, when they’d been introduced, the Guardian had brutally thrown the younger mage with enough force to knock over several heavy bookcases. At the time, he’d thought Khadgar could use a little shaking up…but now, the boy seemed strained. Fragile, somehow. Had Medivh done that again? “He’s the Guardian. A battle mage.” A hint of sarcasm. “Violence is his specialty.”
Khadgar continued to study the ground.
The boy needs thicker skin, Lothar thought. Can’t he tell that Medivh is trying to save the world? He doesn’t have time to coddle a vagabond apprentice. “Oh, I’m sorry – did the Guardian of Azeroth hurt your feelings?” Spurred by defensiveness for his friend, Lothar’s reply contained more spite than intended.
“I meant…personally violent.” The boy persisted.
Lothar studied the young mage again. Taking a closer look, he saw eyes that were puffy and rimmed red, his lower lip split and the side of his face swollen from…what? A fall, a blow? That was disturbing. What happened? Why was Medivh terrorizing the bookworm? He wondered. The kid can be annoying, but he’s harmless.
He sighed. “What are you asking me? Medivh is a great man, and one of my closest friends. He has nothing but the best intentions for Azeroth. You do realize that he’s trying to save the world, don’t you? He doesn’t have the patience for…” His voice trailed off, searching the boy’s face. I don’t have the patience for this either, he thought tiredly. The commander tried another tactic. “Tell me what happened.” Lothar gestured at the boy’s bruised face. “Did he do this?”
“I told you what happened. He burned my research.” The words were flat, Khadgar’s face expressionless, finding that he could not say the words. Could not tell Lothar about the attack, Medivh’s dark eyes, the spell that... I can’t.
“Is that all?” No response. Lothar paused, saying more gently, “Do you want me to talk to him?”
“No.” Panic in the mage’s voice, eyes pleading. “Please, don’t say anything.”
Lothar was bemused and concerned. What a strange young man this mage was. “OK, then.” He suppressed the urge to reach out with a thumb and smooth that furrowed brow. He clasped Khadgar’s shoulder impulsively, trying to lighten the mood. “Say. A group of us are going to the Lion’s Pride tonight. Varis has been mooning over one of the serving girls. Nobody thinks he has a chance, but we’re humoring him. Why don’t you join us?”
Lothar breathed a sigh of relief when Khadgar nodded slowly, agreeing to the invitation. The boy needed to unwind. They all did. Tensions were running high. “Go on, then. We’ll see you tonight.”
Another flat nod and the mage was gone.
He stared at Khadgar’s back, walking stiffly away from the barracks. It bothered him how the mage had flinched under his touch, perhaps as if expecting another blow. Lothar was certain there was more that Khadgar wasn’t telling him.
Damn it, Medivh, what did you do?
