Raethar's Departure
(( Years ago during the aftermath of the rebirth of the Sunwell, Raethar Runeweaver made the decision to depart the Magistry and leave his title of Magister behind. ))
Calm.
The golden glow of Quel’Danas spread evenly across the paved walkways, the whisper of a breeze dancing through the shining leaves of the coastal trees. It was hard to imagine that this very island was the front line of a conflict so great and dangerous that it nearly ushered in the end of their civilization entire. The cracked and blackened stone structures remained as keen reminders, of course; the scorched earth and the smell of brimstone still in the air juxtaposing the gentleness of the shoreline. However, the silence was staggering - the definitive proof that it was over, that a new era had truly begun.
Raethar sighed as he looked out across the sea, leaning upon the stone railing outside of the courtyard to the Magisters’ Terrace. He glanced down to find his own face looking back at him in the reflective stone, his eyes beginning to take on a golden glow as the felfire green began to lift.
Just as this day marks an ending, so too does it herald a new beginning.
Ever since the defeat of Kil’jaeden and the subsequent reignition of the sacred Sunwell, the words of Prophet Velen swirled through Raethar’s mind. It was not a matter of agreeing with words - it was a matter of a reborn soul, of a new path that needed following, of untold and immeasurable possibility. As he stood there upon the Terrace, he pushed up the sleeves of his robe to look upon his scarred and mangled forearms, the last gift of his wife Nilwissa after she lost her mind to magical addiction. He could still see her body on the ground, lifeless, fallen by Farstrider arrows that saved Raethar’s life. He closed his eyes in silent prayer to her, hanging his head in momentary reflection as the breeze tossed his silvery hair.
“The conclave is just about to begin, Magister.”
Raethar’s eyes shot open as the apprentice stepped onto the grass. He pulled himself upward, returning his sleeves to their proper place as he brushed off the front of his robes. “Excellent,” he replied, nodding his appreciation. “Thank you, Aelvar. I suppose the call of destiny awaits.”
Aelvar smiled weakly, offering Raethar a tight scroll that contained his speech and relevant notes. “You are certain that this is the right path, Magister?”
Raethar smiled warmly, closing the gap between himself and his apprentice. He placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder, the gentle Light energy within his palm offering calm to the younger Magister. “My dear Aelvar,” he began, looking down to the bundled scroll in his apprentice’s hands. He paused to conjure the right words before he tapped the top of the closed parchment.
“Clarity,” he said simply, pulling back to regard Alevar fully. “Clarity, Aelvar. For the first time in years, a path forward has been introduced. I can see my footfalls leading onward, urged forward by golden radiance birthed from the Sunwell herself.” He glanced over in the direction of the fount, feeling its energies surround him as he turned from Aelvar to take a step in that direction, his arms opening wide.
“My time as a Magister has come,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I feel not betrayal nor disappointment - I will hold close the memories of that time and continue to devote myself to the cause. But…” His voice trails off for a moment as he turns to face Aelvar once again, his expression gentle and reassuring. “Well, I will save it for the big show, hmm?”
Aelvar smiles and nods, holding the scroll forward once again. “Very well, Magister. It has certainly been an honour, in any case.”
“A new beginning,” Raethar spoke in near silence, Velen’s words still swirling in his mind. He reached his hand toward the scroll, pushing it back toward Aelvar. “Those are for you,” he said with a smile, knowing that he had tucked instructions and guidance for his soon to be former apprentice within the bundled speech. “I know my words, fret not.”
Aelvar retracted the documents with a soft chuckle. “But of course, Magister.” He gestured toward the courtyard. “Though we should not keep them waiting.”
Raethar nodded as he motioned for Aelvar to lead through the archway, following behind him as they both joined the collected Magistry. It was truly a sight to behold as the most powerful of Silvermoon’s spellweavers mingled and spoke, a joy in the air that had not been felt within these walls in some time, certainly not since before the great Fall of Quel’Thalas. For these few hours today, this place was truly once again the Magisters’ Terrace for they, the Collected, this gathering of the full Magistry itself, joined together to celebrate, to mourn, to plan, to discuss, and to reflect.
Raethar smiled and nodded in greeting to so many, shaking hands and sharing laughs as he and Aelvar settled in for the lengthy proceedings.
