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Lorthemar Theron: In the Shadow of the Sun
The surface of Lorthemars desk had ceased to be visible underneath all the paper piled on top of it. Reports, missives, orders, and inventories teetered precariously in stacks he had long since stopped trying to organize. All of them were related to the short yet brutal war over QuelDanas and the Sunwell. None of them was currently on his mind.
In his hand he held a single unopened envelope. Stamped into its violet sealing wax was a great eye, the symbol of Dalaran. It seemed to glare at him accusingly, reminding him of all the other similar letters he had received and discarded. He cracked the seal and removed the neatly folded parchment inside. By now Lorthemar recognized the even, meticulous handwriting adorning the page.
Archmage Aethas Sunreaver had requested an audience with the regent lord numerous times recently, but Lorthemar had deliberately ignored him. Since the events on QuelDanas he had desperately tried to forget the rest of the world, but he realized the world would force itself upon him eventually.
Lorthemar sighed and leaned back in his chair. This letter was much briefer than its predecessors. This time Aethas had not asked, but had simply stated a date and time of arrival. Lorthemar ran his thumb along the papers rough edge. He had a good idea what Aethas was going to propose, and he was not yet certain how he wanted to answer.
* * * * *
Lorthemar was not any surer of his thoughts by the day Aethas was scheduled to arrive. As he made his way through Sunfury Spire to the front hall where the archmage would appear, Halduron stopped him, holding out a small bundle of soft crimson wool. Lorthemar took it and held it up as it unfolded, beholding a regal golden phoenix upon its field: the Silvermoon
No, he said curtly, shoving the garment back at his friend.
You should wear it, Halduron pressed.
What does it matter? he answered, striding forward. Anyone in the service of Silvermoon may bear it.
It is the symb
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