Author: I like Medivh, so whenever I hit a block I tend to gravitate back to him, as hard as he was to get a hold of initially. Admittedly, this is Khadgar, but, still.

Disclaimer: If I owned WoW, Medivh wouldn't be confined to Karazhan and Khadgar would be doing other things then zenning in Shattarath.

Musical Memories

Khadgar found the music of the Opera House unnerving. Every now and then he'd have to walk by the open space, and his steps would speed up in passing. Medivh had never told him why he would have an Opera, of all things, in his Tower, and, frankly, Khadgar didn't want to know.

The area simply creeped him out, and since it did, that made him wildly curious.

As he was walking to grab his lunch, the sound of an organ playing drifted out, making him stop and turn.

He squirmed and fought with himself before he sighed, turned, and headed into the Opera House.

There was nothing particularly intimidating about the room. Empty benches in disrepair were scattered across the marble floor, and in the corner an enormous organ was embedded.

Ghostly music was being pulled from the depths of the organ, the lower notes resonating through Khadgar's body. He swore he could hear whispers from all around him, snippets of conversation just outside his hearing. He was about to leave when a chill descended on him and a muted voice speaking in a heavy Lordaeron accent filtered through the ages to reach out into the Opera House. Khadgar turned and looked at the stage, and the curtain slowly parted under long-dead hands.

Khadgar was enraptured by the tale of two star-crossed lovers, the ghostly actors adding an even sadder air to the tale.

He sat down on a bench, idly praying it wouldn't break, only to have everything sharpen and come into focus as something strange whispered through him.

He turned his head and saw an Opera House changed—light filtered through unseen and impossible windows, sending golden shadows across costumes that were fit for a trip to the Opera. Men and women laughed and talked, all in hushed voices filled with anticipation. The curtains the hid the stage were a deep, soft burgundy, the floor a polished, beautiful marble, the benches made from warm brown oak. Voices spoke of a lost time, although he felt that there were one or two brief, fleeting visions that walked among the faded memories of the past.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Khadgar jumped and looked over his shoulder to see Medivh standing a few paces away in an outfit very different from either his traveling clothes or the robes he wore around the Tower.

"Y-You can see everything?"

Medivh quirked an eyebrow and turned his gaze to the stage. "Young Trust, you should know the answer to that by now."

Khadgar couldn't help the nervous smile that formed on his face and, unlike most visions that captured him in Karazhan, the Opera House faded away slowly, almost like the curtain was being drawn across the past, separating him from it.

Khadgar found both himself and Medivh in their normal clothing and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Master. I was distracted."

Medivh game him a slight, enigmatic smile. "The music can get a little repetitive and they have a repertoire of three shows. I recommend staying infrequently in the Opera House. The ghosts and visions are more potent here than most other places in the Tower."

"How did it get here, anyway?" Khadgar asked slowly. "I can't see you wanting it here."

Medivh shrugged dismissively, "I made a minor miscalculation."

Khadgar's eyebrows snapped up. "A minor miscalculation led to this?"

Medivh nodded and stroked his beard. "Any larger and Karazhan might not be where it is today, or an entire city may have been plopped upon it."

Khadgar stared. "What were you trying to do?"

"You missed lunch," Medivh said. "Cook said you were looking a little under the weather, so she saved you some when I said that you should be allowed to starve for neglecting to come. If you get there quickly, it might still be warm."

Khadgar frowned as Medivh walked away, the man muttering quietly to himself and gesticulating to the air.

Once the Magus was out of sight, Khadgar sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Lunch," he murmured aloud before readjusting the hold on his books and walking quickly away from the Operal House, ephermeral music following him out.