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Summary
After his entire life had been brought to a halt by the Jailer, Anduin felt like nothing but a husk of the man he used to be as he drifted in his self-imposed exile. The Light had abandoned him for his unforgivable sins, and Zovaal's dominating touch left a persistent chill in his soul.
Once he arrived in Dornogal, that coldness followed him, making him feel like he was simply observing life from behind a frosty glass rather than existing. Until one night, when Anduin was greeted by the ghost of a friend whose touch burned with the warmth he thought he had lost a long time ago.
Haunted by Wrathion's memory, the broken king wondered if he ever escaped the torture of the Maw, or if he truly went mad after all.