Harry Potter: Journey to Godhood

After confirming they were fully prepared, the quartet began their exploration of the unusual Karazhan tower.

Leading the group was Lothar, the warrior and the team's only viable tank. 

Sword in hand, his broad shoulders tensed as his towering frame moved forward with the elegance and agility of a cat.

Similarly, Garona advanced cautiously, her hand slipping beneath her cloak to retrieve her deadly daggers.

Alaric, on the other hand, showed no remarkable agility but cast a Levitation Spell on himself. 

With the aid of magic, he hovered gently in the air, moving soundlessly without touching anything. His skilled use of the spell ensured he emitted no noise whatsoever.

Khadgar was the most awkward among them, his bulky Stormwind greatsword bouncing awkwardly on his back. Compared to the others, he felt like a clumsy stone golem.

The open-air corridor outside the observatory was eerily empty, and the inside of the tower was equally desolate. 

The remaining tools lay scattered and broken, with a shattered golden armillary sphere propped haphazardly on the fireplace mantle. It seemed recently used.

If this tower had truly been abandoned, it had been done in a great hurry.

Or perhaps, it had never been abandoned at all.

Under the faint light of a few floating magical orbs, the group descended an endless flight of stairs.

To Khadgar, these walls were once so familiar, for this place had been his home—for a year, at least. He had faced this daunting staircase daily. 

Now, the torches on the walls, which once bore frozen, glimmering flames, had all gone out. 

The light of the orbs cast long, armored shadows on the walls, giving the staircase an eerie, almost nightmarish atmosphere. It felt as if danger lurked behind every darkened doorway.

Khadgar scrutinized every dimly lit door, bracing for the possibility of a deadly ambush.

But there was nothing.

The opera house balcony was empty. The banquet hall was silent. The meeting rooms showed no signs of life. 

Their furnishings remained untouched. The guest rooms were still there—just without any guests.

Finally, they reached Karazhan's library.

The library spanned two entire floors, located about a third of the way up the tower. 

The stairway at this point was external, wrapping around the outer wall to free up an enormous interior space. 

An iron platform circled the second floor. Narrow windows, covered in wire mesh, dimmed the natural light to the muted glow of torches beneath heavy shades. 

On the lower level, large oak tables were scattered with Azerothian crystal globes, all coated with a thick layer of dust, glowing faintly with a bluish-gray hue.

But at that moment, the library looked as if it had been ransacked. Books were strewn across the floor, scrolls haphazardly draped over chairs, and sheets of parchment blanketed the floor like leaves in a dense forest. 

Yet, some books remained on the shelves—barely. They were crammed in disorderly piles, some precariously dangling by a few pages, resembling prisoners in an interrogation chamber.

According to Khadgar, however, this was how the library had looked before he left Karazhan. 

Nothing had changed, not even the notes Khadgar had recently written, which still lay undisturbed on the table.

Was Medivh truly unconcerned about someone stealing these books?

While Khadgar pondered this, Alaric's attention was drawn elsewhere—to the books themselves.

The sheer number of volumes stored in this library was staggering, exceeding even the collections of the Violet Citadel. 

As Alaric wandered through, he discovered many books absent from Dalaran's archives. These contained knowledge—ancient, arcane, and mysterious.

Was this the result of the Tirisfal Council's millennia of accumulation?

I must obtain these books at all costs, Alaric thought resolutely.

His determination was bolstered by the thought of an ally among his "reinforcements" and the special connection he shared with Medivh. Confidence surged within him.

But for now...

A few torn scraps of paper caught Khadgar's attention. He realized he was standing in front of a shelf meant for epic tales.

Finally, something different: a scroll that had been torn to pieces.

Khadgar picked up the largest fragment and read a few lines before nodding to himself.

"What is it?" Lothar asked warily, his expression suggesting he feared the books might spring to life and attack them.

"The Hymn of Aegwynn," Khadgar replied.

"Aegwynn... a hymn to her?" Lothar frowned, puzzled.

"Aegwynn was Medivh's mother," Alaric explained. "The previous Guardian."

"I've heard Medivh mention her, but I've never met her. Was she a mage as powerful as Medivh?" 

Lothar mused before suddenly gasping. "No, wait—I remember that name. That woman!"

"What woman?" Alaric asked. "Have you met Aegwynn?"

"Yes, I remember now," Lothar said. "Before Khadgar became Medivh's apprentice, a young female mage visited Stormwind. 

She claimed to be Aegwynn, Medivh's mother. She also warned us that Medivh was under demonic influence and was responsible for summoning the orcs."

"And yet you only started suspecting Medivh now?" Khadgar shot Lothar a skeptical look.

Lothar smacked his forehead with his gauntleted hand, clearly frustrated with himself. 

"King Llane and I dismissed her claims because she looked too young. We thought she was slandering Medivh or had gone mad from studying magic. 

Who would have thought... such a young and beautiful woman could actually be Medivh's mother…"

"Young?" Alaric chuckled at Lothar's remark. "That's merely the effect of powerful magic. In reality, Lady Aegwynn has lived for nearly a thousand years. She's already—"

Before he could finish, a strange female voice interrupted him.

"Already what, hmm?"

The voice came from less than ten meters away, but its arrival was so abrupt that even Garona, a master of stealth, had failed to notice the speaker's presence.

As the voice echoed, the battle-hardened Lothar instinctively turned toward the source, gripping his sword with both hands and bending his knees into a combat stance.

Garona rolled to the side and melted into the shadows, her position only detectable to Alaric due to their contract. 

She had concealed herself among the bookshelves, ready to strike from the flank at a moment's notice.

Khadgar fumbled to draw his greatsword, only to hesitate and reach for his staff instead, uncertain of which to use.

Alaric, however, remained utterly calm, as if he had known all along that the woman was there. With the ease of greeting an old friend, he spoke.

"Nice to meet you, Lady Aegwynn."

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