The Last Guardian (15 page)

Medivh resumed. “The Kaldorei grew powerful from their use of magic, but they did not understand its nature. They did not understand that there were other, powerful forces in the Great Dark Beyond, moving in the space between worlds, that hungered after magic and were very interested in any who tamed it and refined it to their own ends. These malign forces were abomination and juggernauts and nightmares from hundreds of worlds, but we call them simply demons. They sought to invade any world where magic was mastered and grown, and destroy it, keeping the energies for themselves alone. And the greatest of them, the master of the Burning Legion, was a demon named Sargeras.”

Khadgar thought of the vision with Aegwynn and suppressed a shudder.

If Medivh noticed the young mage’s reaction he did not say anything. “The Lord of the Burning Legion was both powerful and subtle, and worked to corrupt the early magic-users, the Kaldorei. He succeeded, for a dark shadow fell upon their hearts, and they enslaved other races, the nascent humans as well as others, in order to build their empire.”

Medivh sighed, “Now in this time of the enslaving Kaldorei, there were those with greater vision than their brethren, who were willing both to speak out against the Kaldorei and to pay the price for their vision. These brave individuals, both Kaldorei and other races as well, saw the hearts of the ruling

Kaldorei grow cold and dark, and the demonic power grow.”

“So it came to pass that the Kaldorei were corrupted by Sargeras such that they nearly damned this world at its birth. The Kaldorei ignored those who spoke out against them, and opened the way for the most powerful of demons, Sargeras and his lot, to invade. Only by the heroic actions of a few was the shimmering doorway through the Great Dark shut, exiling Sargeras and his followers. But the victory was at great cost. The Well of Eternity exploded when the doorway was shut down, and the resulting explosion ripped the heart out of this world, destroying the Kaldorei lands and the very continent it rested upon. Those that shut the door were never seen again by living eyes.”

“Kalimdor!” said Khadgar, interrupting despite himself.

Medivh looked at him, and Khadgar continued, “Its an old legend in Lordaeron! Once there was an evil race who meddled foolishly with great power. As punishment for their sins, their lands were broken and set beneath the waves. It was called the Sundering of the World. Their lands were called Kalimdor.”

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“Kalimdor,” repeated Medivh. “Though you have the child’s version of the tale, the bit we tell would-be mages to stress the dangers of what they are playing with. The Kaldorei were foolish, and destroyed themselves and nearly our world. And when the Well of Eternity exploded, the magical energies within scattered to the four corners of the earth, in an eternal rain of magic.

Andthat’s why magic is universal—it’s the power of the well’s death.”

“But Magus,” said Khadgar, “that was thousands of years ago.”

“Ten thousand years,” said Medivh, “give or take a score.”

“How is it that the legend comes down to us? Dalaran itself has histories only going back twenty centuries, and the earliest of those are wrapped in legends.”

Medivh nodded and took up the story again. “Many were lost in the sinking of Kalimdor, but some survived, and took their knowledge with them. Some of these surviving Kaldorei would found the Order of Tirisfal. Whether Tirisfal was a person, or a place, or a thing, or a concept, even I cannot say. They took the knowledge, of what had happened, and swore to keep it from ever happening again, and that is the bedrock of the Order.

“Now, the race of humans survived those dark days as well, and thrived, and soon, with magical energy worked into the fabric of the world itself, they too were scratching at the doors of reality, beginning to summon creatures from the Great Dark, prying at the shut gates of Sargaras’s prison. That was when those Kaldorei who had survived and changed themselves came forward with the story of how their ancestors had almost destroyed the world.

“The first human mages considered what the surviving Kaldorei had said, and realized that even were they to lay down their wands and grimoires and ciphers, that others would seek, innocently or less so, ways to allow the demons access once more to our green lands. And so they continued the Order, now as a secret society among the most powerful of their mages. This Order of Tirisfal would choose one of its number, who would serve as theGuardian of theTirisfalen. This guardian would be given the greatest of powers, and would be the gatekeeper of reality. But now the gate was not a single great well of power, but rather an infinite rain that continues to fall even today. It is nothing less than the heaviest responsibility in the world.”

Medivh fell silent, and his eyes lost their focus briefly, as if he were suddenly swept into the past himself.

Then he shook his head, returning to himself, but still did not speak.

“You are the Guardian,” said Khadgar, simply.

“Aye,” said Medivh, “I am the child of the greatest Guardian of all time, and was given her power soon after my birth. It was…too much for me, and I paid for it with a good piece of my youth.”

“But you said the mages chose among themselves,” said Khadgar. “Couldn’t Magna Aegwynn have chosen an older candidate? Why chose a child, especially her own child?”

Medivh took a deep breath. “The first Guardians, for the first millennium, were chosen among the select group. The very existence of the Order was kept hidden, as was the wishes of the original founders.

However, over time, politics and personal interests came into play, such that the Guardian soon became little more than a servant, a magical dogsbody. Some of the more powerful mages felt it was the

Guardian’s job to keepeveryone else from enjoying the power that they themselves commanded.

Like the Kaldorei before us, a shadow of corrupting power was moving through the members of the Order.

More demons were getting through, and even Sargeras himself had manifested the smallest bits of himself. A mere fraction of his power, but enough to slay armies and destroy nations.”

Khadgar thought of the image of Sargeras that fought Aegwynn in the vision. Could this have been a mere fraction of the great demon’s power?

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“Magna Aegwynn,” Medivh said the words, then stopped. It was as if he was not used to speaking those words. “She who bore me was herself born nearly a thousand years ago. She was greatly gifted, and chosen by other members of the Order to become the Guardian. I believe the grayest of the graybeards of that time thought they could control her, and in doing so continue to use the Guardian as a pawn of their own political games.

“She surprised them.”—and at this Medivh smiled. “She refused to be manipulated, and indeed fought against some of the greatest mages of her age when they themselves fell into demonic lore. Some thought that her independence was a passing thing, that when her time came, she would have to pass the mantle on to a more malleable candidate. Again, she surprised them, using the magics within her to live for a thousand years, unchanging, and to wield her power with wisdom and grace. So the Order and the

Guardian split. The former can advise the latter, but the latter must be free to challenge the former, to avoid what happened to the Kaldorei.

“For a thousand years she fought the Great Dark, even challenging the physical aspect of Sargeras himself, who had instilled himself into this plane and sought to destroy the mythical dragons, adding their power to his own. Magna Aegwynn met him and defeated him, locking his body away in a place where none knows, keeping him forever from the Great Dark that is his power. That’s in that epic poem, ‘The

Song of Aegwynn,’ the one Guzbah wants. But she could not do it forever, and there must always be a

Guardian.

“And then…” And again Medivh’s voice faltered. “She had one more trick up her sleeve.

Powerful she was, but she was still of mortal flesh. She was expected to pass on her power.

Instead she fathered an heir on a conjurer from the Court of Azeroth itself, and she chose that child as her successor. She threatened the Order, saying that if her choice was not honored, she would not step down, and would rather take the power of the Guardian into death than allow another to have it. They felt theymight be able to manipulate the child…me…better, and so they allowed it.

“The power was too much,” said Medivh. “When I was a young man, younger than you, it awoke within me, and I slept for over twenty years. Magna Aegwynn had so much of a life, and I seem to have lost most of it.” His voice faltered again. “Magna Aegwynn…my mother…” he began, but found he had nothing more to say.

Khadgar just sat there for a moment. Then Medivh rose, shook back his mane and said, “And while I

slept, evil crept back into the world. There are more demons, and more of these orcs as well.

And now members of my own Order are once more playing the dark road. Yes, Huglar and Hugarin were members of the Order, as have been others, like ancient Arrexis among the Kirin Tor. Yes, something similar happened to him, and while they covered it up neatly, you probably heardsomething about it. They feared my mother’s power, and they fear me, and I have to keep their fear from destroying them. Such is the charge laid upon the Guardian of Tirisfal.”

The older man launched himself to his feet. “I must be off!” he said.

“Off?” said Khadgar, suddenly surprised by the energy within the lanky frame.

“As you have so rightly noted, there is a demon abroad,” said Medivh with a renewed smile.

“Sound the hunter’s horn, I must find it before it regains its wits and strength and kills others!”

Khadgar pulled himself upright. “Where do we start?”

Medivh pulled himself up short, and turned, looking slightly sheepishly at the younger man.

“Ah.We are not starting anywhere. I am going to go. You’re talented, but you’re not up to demons quite yet. This battle is my own, Young Apprentice Trust.”

“Magus, I am sure I can…”

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But Medivh raised a hand to silence him.

“I also need you here to keep your own ears open,” said Medivh, in a quieter voice. “I have no doubt that Old Lothar has spent the past ten minutes with his ear to the door, such that there will be a keyhole-shaped impression on the side of his face.” Medivh grinned. “He knows a lot, but not all. That’s why I had to tell you, so he doesn’t pry too much out of you. I need someone to guard the Guardian, as it were.”

Khadgar looked at Medivh and the older mage winked. Then the Magus strode to the door and pulled it open with a quick motion.

Lothar did not stumble into the room, but he was there, right on the other side. He could have been listening, or just standing watch.

“Med,” said Lothar with a game smile. “His Majesty…”

“His Majesty will understand perfectly,” said Medivh, breezing right past the larger man. “That I would rather meet with a rampaging demon than the leader of a nation. Priorities and all that. In the mean time will you look after my apprentice?”

He said it all in a single breath, and then he was gone, out into the hall and down the stairs, leaving

Lothar in mid-sentence.

The old warrior rubbed a great hand up over his balding pate, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

Then he looked at Khadgar and let out another, deeper sigh.

“He’s always been like this, you know,” said Lothar, as if Khadgar truly did know. “I suppose you’re hungry, at least. Let’s see if we can find some lunch.”

Lunch consisted of a cold game fowl looted from the cold room and tucked under Lothar’s arm, and two mugs of ale the size of ewers, one in each meaty hand. The King’s Champion was surprisingly at ease, despite the situation, and guided Khadgar out to a high balcony overlooking the city.

“My lord,” said Khadgar. “Despite the Magus’s request, I realize you have other work.”

“Aye,” said Lothar, “and most of it was taken care of while you were talking to Medivh. His majesty

King Llane is in his quarters, as are most of the courtiers, under guard, in case that demon decided to hide in the castle. Also I have agents already spreading through the city, with orders to both report

anything suspicious but not to make themselves suspicious. The last thing we need is a demon-panic. I’ve cast all my lines, and now there is nothing to do but wait.” He looked at the younger man. “And my lieutenants know that I’ll be on this balcony, as I always have a late lunch anyway.”

Khadgar considered Lothar’s words, and thought that the King’s Champion was very much like Medivh—not only planning ahead a few moves, but delighting in telling others how he’s planned things out. The apprentice picked at the sliced breast meat while Lothar tore into a drumstick.

The pair ate in silence for a long time. The fowl was anything but foul, for it was treated with a concoction of rosemary, bacon, and sheep’s butter placed beneath the skin before roasting.

Even cold it fell apart in the mouth. The ale for its part was pungent, rich with bottomland hops.

Beneath them the city unfolded. The citadel itself was atop a rocky outcropping that already separated the King from his subjects, and from the tower’s additional height, the citizens of Stormwind looked like naught but small dolls busying themselves along crowded streets. Some sort of market day was playing out beneath them, brightly-tarped storefronts occupied with vendors bellowing (very quietly, it seemed to

Khadgar at this altitude) the virtues of their wares.

For a moment Khadgar forgot where he was, and what he had seen, and why he was there in the
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first place. It was a beautiful city. Only Lothar’s deep grumble brought him back to this world.

“So,” said the King’s Champion in his way of introspection. “How is he?”

Khadgar thought for a moment, and replied, “He is in good health. You have seen that yourself, milord.”

“Bah,” spat Lothar, and for a moment Khadgar thought the knight was choking on a large piece of meat.

“I can see, and I know Med can dance and bluff his way past just about anyone. What I mean to say is, Howis he?”