Bouncing around in his saddle, Khadgar cursed Lothar, and Stormwind, and the Alliance, and the Kirin Tor, as he had a hundred times that day. Just that morning, Khadgar had been happily sitting in his room, reading his books, when Lothar had barged in, stating "Come on. We're going on an adventure!" to which Khadgar had groaned. He didn't want to adventure. After the whole mess at the Dark Portal, Khadgar never wanted to adventure again. He just wanted a quiet life, a life where mentors didn't use giant golems to kill their students, or turn into big feldemons and open portals allowing bloodthirsty orcs into Azeroth.
Pain came in short bursts all over his inner thighs and backside, evidence of saddle sores forming already. Khadgar sighed, and continued to try to read his book as they rode. He was alone with Lothar, and for once, the warrior was being quiet. The Queen had sent them out into the Forest, to search for a patrol that had been due back in Stormwind a week ago. It was a simple enough mission; ride out, following the path they should have taken, find out where they were, and bring them back. Khadgar cursed again. The soldiers were probably in some tavern somewhere, too drunk to know what day it was. Khadgar's skills were not needed on this mission, but Lothar felt that he spent "too much time in that dingy tower", and that he needed to "get out more".
Looking over at the warrior, Khadgar sighed. He thought Lothar was his friend. They had certainly bonded during their time fighting Medivh. But his attitude had remained much the same as it had since they had first met; brusque, with snide jabs at, well, everything about Khadgar. On the other hand, though, Lothar was constantly inviting Khadgar to join him on missions, or on rides out in the Forest, and even to have a few drinks in one of the local Inns. Khadgar had gone to one of these drinking sessions once, and had vowed never to go again. He had thought it would be a nice, quiet evening of talking over a mug or two of ale. How wrong he had been. Lothar had spent the majority of the evening flirting with the attractive serving girl, as had most of the other men in the Inn. The girl, however, had only had eyes for Lothar. Khadgar couldn't really blame her. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and was a renowned warrior, and hero. All the ladies fawned over him. And since the King's death, Lothar had stopped brushing off their advances.
Lothar never tired of reminding Khadgar of this. Of how many women he had been with. Khadgar supposed to him it was all a big joke, a laugh between friends. And Khadgar laughed along with him, not wanting to admit how jealous he was. How, just once, he wanted the woman to notice him. To find him attractive. As a mage in the Kirin Tor, it was unlikely he would ever settle down, have a family. But it would be nice to at least have the option. Instead, all he ever got was jokes about how he had never been with a woman. Khadgar still hadn't forgiven Lothar for telling the other soldiers about it. Everywhere he went, the jokes followed. He supposed he was still young yet. There was always time. That's what the Queen always said to him, when they had one of their talks. "There is always time for love. If you are meant to find it you will. You are meant for greater things. You are the Guardian Initiate! Study first, love later."
Khadgar snapped his book shut, annoyed. Lothar looked over at him, and raised a quizzical eyebrow. "It is impossible to read when I am on the back of a horse." Lothar grinned at him, and waved an arm, gesturing to the countryside they were riding through. "Come on, Khadgar! The Forest is beautiful this time of year. And breathe in that fresh air! You don't get this in your dingy little tower, or in your books." Khadgar snorted. The air smelt like manure, and he didn't like the way the trees grouped together, forming dark shadows either side. Anything could be hiding in those shadows. Khadgar decided to change the subject. "I haven't seen any sign of the patrol yet. Surely, we should have seen something by now?" Lothar nodded, face contorting with concern.
They continued on in silence for a little while, Khadgar trying to ignore the thoughts swirling around in his head, and the loneliness that accompanied them. He was a hero too. He had brought down Medivh. He had resisted the fel. He had practically saved Lothar! No one ever mentioned that when they were talking to him. Only jokes. Constant, never ending jokes.
Soon, Lothar and Khadgar reached a small bridge, leading into Duskwood. Like its name, the trees grew even closer here, and it was as though there was an invisible shield preventing light from filtering through. Khadgar had flown over Duskwood many a time, but had never ridden through it. He was reluctant to do so. Anything could happen in darkness like that. Even Lothar seemed hesitant. "The patrol wasn't meant to go this far." Lothar's eyes were narrowed, calculating. Was it worth the risk? Khadgar thought not. He was ready to go home now. Much to his dismay, Lothar kicked his horse forward, and together, they allowed the woods to swallow them.
All sound disappeared when they crossed the bridge. Even the clop of the horses' hooves was silenced, despite the road not changing. The very air felt hushed, like a blanket had been placed over the entire place. Lothar was quiet, senses on high alert, scanning the trees for signs of the patrol. Laughter and jokes had been forgotten now – something had clearly gone wrong. Khadgar scanned the trees too, conjuring small balls of light and sending them into the darkness, to dispel the shadows.
After about an hour, the road began to change. The treeline was more broken, branches strewn across the road, and a few paces ahead, a horse lay twitching on the ground, bloody gashes in its side. Khadgar's heart sank. Such a waste of a life. Things did not bode well for the soldiers. Lothar cursed at the sight of the horse, and slid off his own stallion. Khadgar took that as a sign for him to do the same. Trying not to fall off, he dismounted, and decided against following Lothar to the treeline. Instead, he went to the horse. Ragged breaths racked the muscular body, and for the first time, Khadgar noticed the lack of armour. This was not a Stormwind Charger. He was about to go after Lothar, to tell him of his discovery, when the horse locked eyes with him. He could feel it's pain. Drawing a small dagger that the Queen had given him, he quickly ended the horse's life. Tears stung his eyes, as he wiped the blade. Taking a life felt wrong, but the horse had not deserved to die in pain.
A small shiver ran down Khadgar's back, and he had the sensation of being watched. Protection spell already on his lips, he whirled around, scanning the opposite treeline. Nothing. Nothing but inky darkness and shadowed trees. But, before he turned back to the horse, Khadgar swore he saw two glowing eyes, pure silver against the black of the trees. The eyes vanished as quickly as they had appeared, and although his heart was practically beating out of his chest, Khadgar had not sensed danger.
The sound of metal hitting metal shattered Khadgar's confusion, and he whirled around towards the sound. It was coming from the direction that Lothar had gone in. All thoughts of silver eyes vanished from Khadgar's mind as he raced towards the sound, louder now, with shouts. Khadgar burst into a small clearing, where Lothar was surrounded by men in black leather, red handkerchiefs around the lower part of their faces. Bandits. Khadgar swore, and prepared to cast a protective bubble around Lothar, who was struggling to parry the numerous blows, when his head burst in pain. Black wetness took over his vision, as he fell to the ground, reaching to his eyes to wipe away the blood. He was vaguely aware of a figure above him, but it was hazy, and appeared to be holding something. The figure moved in slow motion almost, and the something buried itself once, twice, three times into his ribs. His body crying out in pain, Khadgar desperately fought to stay conscious, crawling back away from the figure, who was laughing now. Turning his head, he was dismayed to see Lothar on the ground too, with many figures, holding many somethings, surrounding him.
Preparing himself to die, Khadgar stopped moving. The figure stood over him, laughter gone. One sharp twang, and the figure fell to the ground. Khadgar, still fighting to stay awake, tried to sit up, to call a warning to Lothar at this new threat, but instead watched as each figure fell to the ground after an accompanying twang. Heart beat slowing, Khadgar tried once more to cast a protection spell, but the new figure knelt and pressed a warm finger to his lips. He cried out in pain as gentle hands inspected his wounds. The pain became unbearable, and as he sank into darkness, the only thing Khadgar was aware of was the shine of silver eyes.