In the Chamber of Air, five members of the Council of Six were deep in concentration trying to arrive at some solution of how to defeat the Void. They had been hard at work since the unfortunate incident with the demon hunter had taken place.

Through a shimmering portal, Karlain was seen in his alchemist lab, busying himself in his studies. He was trying to deduce the most effective defence against shadow magic, if all else they knew, failed. The deep creases on his forehead and look of utter frustration in his eyes suggested his level of success was impotent.

Kalecgos was standing over an ancient manuscript, his magic transposing the almost illegible script into a hologram, displaying it in mid-air.  Modera and Ansirem both recrafted the letters and symbols to make them readable before translating them. The results were not encouraging.

Vargoth sat in a plush armchair pouring over a large journal about Draenor. Floating, to his side was another smaller book, in which he transferred some text from the larger one. His companion the elemental Glacius, oscillating between its aqueous and fuliginous forms, remained close by. Its soothing, bubbling, watery sounds aiding Vargoth to focus on his work.

Khadgar arrived in the Chamber of Air, his mood dark, troubled. Modera looked up from her translations on hearing him enter through a portal. Her eyes flicked to Kalecgos and Ansirem, her tight lips and narrowed eyes conveying her thoughts. Kalecgos sighed heavily as the female mage quickly moved towards their leader.

Khadgar crossed the room and stood at one of the windows, his eyes fixed on nothing but the swirling elemental ward that rotated around the chamber's outer wall. Modera moved to his right. She silently studied the side of his face. His jaw was taut, lips thinned and his brow pinched in the centre, a clear indication that his visit home had not gone well.

It took all she had not to revel in the fact that her ruminations about the Earth woman's detrimental effect on the man's state of mind were now confirmed. Here stood a brilliant man; a great leader whose focus, years of devotion, study and learning,  were being cast to the four elements, all because of ... her! Sarah!

How she wished the woman had never returned. The sealing of that rift should have been the end of her. But of course, the meddling demon hunter's bride had to ruin things by gifting her passage back to Azeroth.

Clearing her throat, the Archmage Modera turned her eyes to the secretive ward which captivated Khadgar's attention. "I take it she was of no help then?"

Khadgar did not move, nor did he even acknowledge he had been spoken to. He merely stood, hands clasped behind his back, eyes staring out the window. His face wore a melancholy veil.

Modera was not remotely discouraged. "It is as I thought then," she said haughtily. "She and that abomination of an elf are well suited." She turned to move back to the table where Kalecgos and Anrisem continued with their work.

"Modera," Khadgar said. He did not move, simply maintained his vigil of the elements.

"Yes?" she said sweeping back, chin held high, a hint of a smile on her lips.

He kept his voice low, but the menacing intonation was undeniable. "If you ever utter such an accusation again, I will personally cast you out of the Citadel."

The smile faltered and her breath caught in her throat. Instantly flustered, she tried to talk her way out of the trouble she had landed herself in. "My apologies, Khadgar, I was not implying that they..."

He turned to face her. The expression which met her was austere and unforgiving. "Careful Modera. You are not above reproach."

She bowed her head and returned, somewhat subdued, to the table where her colleagues worked on deciphering the manuscripts. The leader of the Kirin Tor watched as she retook her place and resumed her work. He grunted, turning back to the window, just as Modera glanced up at him through her inconceivably long lashes, which were a little moist following her reprimand. She had only been concerned for his welfare and subsequently that of the Kirin Tor and the pending war with the Void.

"You should learn to keep your mouth closed," Kalecgos whispered to her.

Modera shot him an acicular look. "I only speak the truth," she hissed.

"Your version of it only, Modera."

"Oh typical of you to take his side, you and Jaina were no better. Well, look what happened to her!"

Kalecgos slammed his fist on the table. The disturbance caused the others to stare, all except the Archmage who still hid in his alchemy lab and Khadgar, who appeared to be oblivious. "And I would not change a thing," Kalecgos said quietly, but firmly. "If we die in this war, then at least I will die knowing I have loved someone other than myself and that they loved me. You are but an ice queen, Modera, and you will die as unhappily as you have lived."

Music: Slør by Eivør Pálsdóttir    

https://youtu.be/zcP-bEdwxZc

Her eyes flitted up towards Khadgar again. His head was inclined. Had he overheard that exchange she wondered? She lowered her head and started rifling through some of the reference documents on the table. She took a deep breath. "Let us continue," she said. With tempers cooled, the colleagues resumed their translations and studies without further ado.

The leader of the Kirin Tor continued staring out the window. He was mulling over all Sarah had told him. He felt utterly despondent as he recalled his harsh and abrupt manner when she poured out her heart to him. He had gone home, following Illidan's comment about her being an integral player in the decimation of the Void but he had not expected to hear what she'd told him.

Had he perhaps hoped for her to supply the answers which seemed to elude him and his Council? Possibly, although he really wanted her to have no part in this coming war. He had wanted her safely tucked away with their son. He closed his eyes. His heart contracted as he remembered saying "Your son needs you." The look in her eyes as he'd said that so dismissively was killing him.

The cold hard truth however, was that time was against them in so many ways. Time to work out how to defend against the Void, time running out before the battle commenced and time disappearing for them to try and right any wrongs, before complete annihilation robbed them of ever doing so. He took a deep breath then turned and joined his colleagues in trying to find out the answers they needed.

It was late when they decided to call it a night. They had all poured over scrolls, manuscripts, volumes, in a desperate search for the tactics required to end this looming threat. 

Karlain had fallen asleep in his lab, vials and beakers littering the surfaces in unsuccessful experiments.

Glacius had dwindled to a mere puddle on the floor beside the armchair Vargoth had spent hours absorbing the layout of Draenor and the likely approach the Void would adopt. His deliberations had formed the opinion that the Void would make its way to the Dark Portal, having ripped most of Draenor apart and in so doing, it would invade Azeroth next. The Council agreed the Void must be stopped at all costs from passing through the portal.

Something Illidan had said when he and Khadgar first visited Galurk and San'ti, gnawed at the leader's mind. Why was the Void attacking Draenor? 

After more debate, the hypothesis arrived at was that Outland, the broken remains of Draenor following the devastating efforts of Ner'zhul opening too many portals on the orc planet, was another target. The former Elder Shaman and later Lich King had literally pulled Draenor apart, creating Outland. Only the alternate time portals allowed the two planets to co-exist. In wiping out Draenor, the Void would also annihilate Outland. The numbers of lives that would be lost was unimaginable.

With two planets destroyed in one sweep, the Void would then move onto a third; that being Azeroth. With heavy hearts, the council retired for the evening.

Khadgar stood once more, staring through the whirling ward, his mind creating the images of some of the lands surrounding Dalaran and beyond. He visualised their beauty and serenity, their different climates and races. Some were still in the throes of recovery from the Legion attacks.  He closed his eyes. All the people's hard work - for what?

"Khadgar," the unusually timid voice of Modera pulled him from his reverie.

He turned to face her, arms crossed, his face still holding remnants of lost thoughts. He sighed heavily. "What is it Modera? You should go rest."

The mage lowered her head as if drumming up courage before she spoke. She lifted her eyes to his. "About earlier, I'm sorry..."

Khadgar could not be bothered with dredging up their earlier conflict. Running his hand through his tousled mop, he then waved a dismissive hand at her. "Enough, Modera! Go to bed."

Dejected, she turned and made her way to the portal that would take her to the lower chambers of the citadel. Before she stepped through, however, she heard the unmistakable whoosh and pop of another portal behind her. When she turned, the leader of the Kirin Tor was nowhere to be found.

Music: INNOCENTS by Miriam Stockley 

https://youtu.be/3T3lrsG2S9c

He stood, watching her through the door of their room, as she tossed and turned in a fitful sleep. He wanted to go to her, to soothe her, apologise, but he couldn't seem to cross the threshold.

He was sorely tempted to cast a ward around the house, preventing her from leaving and trying anything rash. He would never forgive himself though if, in the days to come, the Void managed to break through and she was unable to escape with Ocel. She would be like a sacrificial lamb just waiting for the end. He could not do that to her, to their son.

He glanced at the door of Ocel's room. Quietly, he made his way along the hall and into the nursery. Moonlight filtered through the fine drapes and gently reached over the little boy coating him in a soft veil of silver luminescence. Ocel lay still, his little chest rising and falling rhythmically, lost in the dreamland of innocents.

Khadgar smiled. Here his legacy slept before him, oblivious to the dangers ahead. He approached the sleeping babe softly, careful not to stand on the one creaky floorboard which for some reason decided to be close to the crib. He managed to avoid the culprit and stood with his hands resting on the sides of Ocel's sanctuary, watching the little one slumber.

His heart swelled at the sight of the boy's soft cheeks, the twitching dimples at the corners of his mouth. His infant mind had him possibly soaring on the back of a gryphon or riding the waves with dolphins over the great sea. Khadgar laughed very softly. Who knew what babes could dream? Their concept of the world would be so black and white, all new and wondrous. 

He reached down to stroke his cheek. Ocel cooed in his sleep, his little arms flailing once before he settled again. Unbidden tears came to Khadgar's eyes. He had all he desired in this house. A woman who he still loved fiercely, a son who he wanted to watch grow up, play ball with, take him fishing and riding - but it could all be taken from him soon enough.

The feeling of helplessness was crushing. He should know how to fight this Void. He was the leader of the Kirin Tor! He had, over the years absorbed probably more knowledge than a man three times his age would ordinarily have managed. He was well versed in magic, history, the peoples of Azeroth, Draenor, Outland, Pandaria and the Broken Isles. He was a mathematician, a philosopher, a scientist, all to varying degrees, but knowledgeable nonetheless. So why was it he could not uncover the means required to defend against this looming threat?

He quashed a sob. Leaning closer, he whispered to Ocel. "You are my pride and joy and I love you with all my heart. I pray Elune blesses and keeps you safe."

He had to take a few deep breaths before he continued. "Should I not see you again, know this, you have a wonderful mother who will love you enough for the both of us. I hope you get to ride on those gryphons or dolphins, my son. Be strong, be kind and just. And love with all of your heart."

With the gentlest of kisses on the sleeping babe's head, Khadgar turned and left the nursery, the sound of his breaking heart pounding in his ears.