The surface of Lor’themar’s 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 Quel’Danas 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 Lor’themar recognized the even, meticulous handwriting adorning the page.
Archmage Aethas Sunreaver had requested an audience with the regent lord numerous times recently, but Lor’themar had deliberately ignored him. Since the events on Quel’Danas he had desperately tried to forget the rest of the world, but he realized the world would force itself upon him eventually.
Lor’themar 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. Lor’themar ran his thumb along the paper’s rough edge. He had a good idea what Aethas was going to propose, and he was not yet certain how he wanted to answer.