Author: Medivh is too much fun. And now I like his dad. WTH, self. WTH.

Disclaimer: lawl

Fear

Every now and then, Medivh had the perverse desire to visit his past. He vaguely recalled his father—he hadn't known the man for terribly long nor terribly well. Somehow, though, his father had found his way through the mists of time and space to make his way into Karazhan. He knew that he had not come with Karazhan, that there had been a definite time that the shade of Aran had come into being.

Perhaps the ghost had somehow felt Medivh's darkening soul. Perhaps some fragment from when he had died trying to contain the power that had flooded and overwhelmed him had been left within Medivh, which drew Aran to him.

Perhaps it was the universe's last-ditch effort to turn Medivh away from raining destruction, death, and blood onto the denizens of Azeroth in the form of the orcish Horde that he had helped create.

Well, that Kil'jadeen and Archimonde, who were Sargeras', and therefore his, lieutenants, had created.

It was only a matter of time until Sargeras' body was retrieved.

And after that…who knew what would happen to Medivh?

Medivh frowned as he watched the ghost of his father pace the circular room, gesturing wildly to himself and muttering in the arcane tongue.

It appeared that madness ran in the family.

What will happen to Medivh once Sargeras' body is retrieved? He wondered as he leaned on his Greatstaff. Will Medivh disappear? Will Medivh be left in his fragile human body while Sargeras takes his true, powerful, demonic form? Will Medivh die in the transfer? Will Sargeras take Medivh with him, Medivh becoming a passenger in a body not his own?

Is he not a stranger in his own body, anyway? Medivh thought with bitter detachment.

Silence suddenly reigned in the Library as Medivh's former father quieted and looked sharply over to Medivh.

Medivh knew that the ghost was unable to fully see him, but was cognizant enough of his presence.

"Back to kick an old man when he's down?" he said, cold venom in his voice.

Medivh smiled faintly and thumbed his staff.

"Why do you stay here?" Medivh asked.

Aran scoffed. "Shouldn't the answer be obvious?"

Medivh cocked an eyebrow. "I can think of a multitude of reasons why you would remain here," Medivh replied.

Aran's features tightened and he did his best to catch Medivh's eyes, which was hard for a ghost to do to a mortal, as they existed in two different phases of existence.

Still, Medivh was surprised when his former father succeeded.

"I am here because you are here, my son," Aran replied, his voice breaking slightly.

Medivh frowned slightly. "I didn't call you here. I don't want you here."

Aran's shoulders slumped. "Do you think I want to be here either, my son? But you're not really my son, are you? My son wouldn't seek to destroy his home."

Medivh scowled and looked away, his fingers tightening.

Why does it matter? He's dead—long, long dead. He's nothing but another of Karazhan's memories, visions—

"I've seen your apprentice."

Medivh looked up sharply. "He shouldn't be able to get in here."

Aran smiled faintly. "Your tower works strangely. He saw me in a vision, once, and I saw him in a memory. He's passed by this door a thousand thousand times, Medivh. Are you so ashamed of your father that I might not impart some of my knowledge to him?"

"That's exactly why you can't meet him," Medivh snapped.

Silence fell between them before Aran said, "Why?"

Medivh blinked.

"Why are you scared? Surely you have all the power you need to defend yourself against him and your former friends should they try to kill you to end your suffering."

"I'm not scared," Medivh replied haughtily. "I have nothing to be afraid of—not from you, nor anyone else."

As Medivh turned to leave the Library, his father's voice caught him up short:

"You fear your heart."

Medivh turned slowly back, a dark scowl forming on his features. "My heart?"

"My son, you care for the boy. His opinion of you matters unlike anyone else's. You fear his fear, his disapproval, his anger towards you."

"Nonsense," Medivh replied, but his voice sounded weak to his ears. "Khadgar is expendable. Just another mortal. I can toss him aside as easily as I could a dirty towel."

Aran's features softened slightly and he crossed the room so he stood an arm's length away from Medivh.

"You teach him well, my son, because you know he is your salvation and demise."

"Silence!" Medivh snarled and thrust his hand out, dispelling the ghost, if only temporarily.

Medivh spat an unkind word in the High Elf language, but he found that he couldn't rid himself of the shaky feeling that rattled through his mind and magic.

My salvation? He thought and shook his head dismissively. Foolishness.

He walked out of the library, his staff clicking quickly and decisively as he stalked off towards his chambers, dark and violent thoughts roiling through him.

"Master?"

Medivh's steps slowed and he turned to face his apprentice as the boy ran up to him, obviously having been looking for him.

"Master!" the boy repeated, jubilation in his voice. "I have something I want to show you."

"Very well," Medivh heard himself say.

Get him alone, remove him as a threat, he's the only thing that is blocking all our careful plans, Medivh thought distantly, and could feel the dark power buzzing at his fingertips.

The boy wouldn't feel anything at all. He would die without having suspected Medivh of being anything other than a powerful, eccentric mage. No-one would mourn his disappearance or inquire into it—accidents happened all the time, afterall, and Medivh didn't exactly keep a close eye on his apprentice.

But, strangely…

"I'm sure I've seen what you're going to show me before," Medivh drawled, which made Khadgar gave him an amused look.

"Yeah, well. While you might have seen the result, you might not have seen the process. I do think differently than you, Master."

Medivh smirked and shook his head condescendingly. "Of course the apprentice claims to know more than the master."

Khadgar rolled his eyes, and Medivh was surprised by the comfortable silence that fell between them.

He was right, Medivh thought with consternation. He is right, damn him. Ah, Khadgar. How am I ever going to kill you?