Aegwyn stumbled as she ran down the side of the hill. The dirt gave way beneath her and she fell, sliding the rest of the way. She didn’t even try to brush off the dust. Her mist white hair plastered to her face, the remains of many days of sweat and exhaustion. “It can’t be! By the light!”
Aegwyn wandered through the village, trying to make sense of what happened. The buildings of the village lay in ruins. The roofs to the farmhouses were caved in or burned away and the charred walls and skeletal remains were all that was left of the village. The one she called home.
“Daissan!” she cried out through the blacksmith’s shop.
The forge lay untended and covered in dust and mud. The wall on the far end was broken down and the furniture lay scattered and broken. Iron plate armor of quality and swords that would befit kings lay on the ground, rusting and dying as the winded echoes passed through the empty ceiling and the crumbling walls.
“Selaine!” The seamstress fared no better than Daissan’s shop. The wall was broken in three places and patches of sun fell through onto the ground. A thick smattering of dried blood was sprayed over the walls and a trail of it went from the center of the room to a hole on the right side of the wall. The rest that was left were ashen remains and charred scars.
Aegwyn began to despair. Azeroth was of the mightiest kingdom from what she could see, what she could remember. King Llane would have rallied the townsfolk to fight back the foe and the knights were the greatest of the warriors in the entire world. How could such have happened? What force had caused such devastation?
She stepped forward into the empty room, her footsteps hollow. She ran her frail fingers along the walls. Even though her power was all but gone, she could feel the suffering in the wood. It almost seemed to cry out towards her. Aegwyn pressed herself against the wall but recoiled when the screams of Selaine ran through her mind. “Oh Selaine, poor Selaine.”
Tears ran down her worn cheeks. Aegwyn was old and dying. She pressed her forehead against the wall as her own pain started to emerge. Medivh, Nielas. What had happened to them? Oh her Medivh. She could still remember him in her arms. So innocent, so beautiful. His lovely face and bright tender eyes. His heart. If only she hadn’t cursed him with so much power! She should have known better, should have been wiser. He wasn’t ready, even with his thirteenth year! Even in darkness she still saw him framed with light. The great potential he had. The mantle he could have carried should have carried. The mantle that was still her own.
Aegwyn pushed herself away from the wall and walked out of the ruined building, her hands to her face. Her heart had been broken and although it had mended through her long journeys home, this was too much. Oh Nielas, he was so wonderful. She had forgiven Medivh long ago for his crimes.
Medivh! Her mind flashed with memory as she remembered their last battle. She could still feel his power that had torn the sky asunder. What if he...
Aegwyn cried out and beat her fists against the house. No! It can’t be! He couldn’t have!
But without her, Azeroth didn’t stand a chance. What if Medivh had destroyed the kingdom! By the light! The kingdom that was to save the world! She had seen it in the tapestry, had seen it woven into the mists of time. Even the peasants of the land seemed to know that they were destined for greatness that even the king of Lordaeron would never have known.
He wouldn’t have known. He wouldn’t have cared. She knew her son too well. He would have destroyed the world in the blink of an eye if he profited from it. He was driven with a lust for power, edged by madness fostered from youth. Her mind drifted as she tried to recall what had happened so long ago. She had been across deserts and plains and through forest and snow capped mountain freezes. She had struggled and cried, breaking and rebuilding her will. She had to find another. That was all that had been going through her head for so long. She had to find another.
A portal! That was all she remembered. The portal to...
She shivered as it flooded back to her. Even though the rift was smaller than a mustard seed, she could sense the hatred that spilled through. She could feel the taint again, could feel the desire for bloodshed. It hit her broken senses with the power of a dwarven forged hammer. The anger, the rage. The darkness. It was so much stronger. The rift, it must have widened.
The shock was worse than the pain she felt. She tried to close off the emotions that bombarded her, tried to seal it off. It kept pouring through, striking her in her most vulnerable spots. She could hear Nielas’ scream echo through her mind. She could hear Medivh and his faint whispers with the damned. The dying shrieked and from beyond the grave she could see their skeletal fingers reaching out towards her.
“No...” she said, her voice like a whimper.
So much blood, so much pain. There was a war. It was too obvious for her not to see it. But what nation could cause such horror? What nation had so little honor for the sanctity of life and love? She could think of none.
The rift! What lay beyond the rift?
It was too much. Her thoughts became clouded as her weak barrier crumbled in on itself. The anger and hatred rushed through and struck her defenseless. The screams deafened her. The blood and flesh blinded her. The steel and iron hurt her. Her mind couldn’t handle it.
Aegwyn lets out a tiny mewl, and then darkness caught her.
