Days passed. Days.

Janderius was up for nearly three days straight as he struggled to try and get a read on the missing Templar’s location.

The eerie calm of the Deadwind Pass was far too quiet for him. Especially considering how many hours he had spent holed up there, stubbornly refusing to give up his search (despite the minuscule chance he had of actually succeeding.)

Karazhan was his favorite venue for whenever he needed to spend long periods of time crafting a particular spell. As long as one could find themselves a safe enough alcove along the tower’s ruptured walls, it was the perfect place for a mage to make the best of their abilities. The tower was built on top of the planet’s nexus of ley lines, where all of the subterranean rivers of flowing magic converge. Naturally, any half-competent mage could easily use that abundance of ley energy to their advantage.

Jander had set up camp for himself on one such hidden alcove. He brought numerous  reagents with him, and used his supplies to draw a large and elaborate arcane circle on the weathered stones. In the center of the circle sat the large scrying orb that he’d ‘borrowed’ for the occasion.

The mage had always been well-versed in the school of divination, and had accrued plenty of experience seeking and tracking others through the art of scrying over the years. The process was long, exhausting, and very particular. There is usually very little indication of potential success until the ordeal is near completion, so it is very easy for one to lose heart and give up early on.

He worked with very minimal breaks, knowing that every second spent away from the spell only decreased the chance of successfully completing it.

Jander had refined his method to set up a trace on the target’s unique arcane signature. The way he had been taught, it was easiest to put your efforts into binding that trace to a single crystal. That crystal could then be used like a dowsing device once the difficult process was complete. With the empowered crystal in hand, finding the person you’re seeking suddenly becomes an extraordinarily easy task, regardless of how far across the planet they might be.

Despite seemingly performing every step correctly, and pouring tens of hours into consistent, mind-numbing channeling, Jander finally gave up the search. Three days later, that little crystal showed no signs of life. No glowing, no humming, nothing to indicate that its target could be found anywhere on the globe. There wasn’t even any sign that Jander’s exhaustive spell had even had any impact, though he felt certain that he had performed everything correctly on his end.

So after many hours of denial, he came to the conclusion that Halonan was nowhere to be found on Azeroth, at least, not in the present day. His theory that the shrine’s sands might have spat him out somewhere reachable was decidedly incorrect.

As much as he wanted to make it back to his own bed, the mage collapsed on top of the circle as soon as he’d given up his efforts. He was out for several hours, snoring like a knocked-out brawler from sheer exhaustion.

He finally woke again, somehow feeling even more stiff and groggy than before, just in time to see the third sunset since the disappearance. He would have to drag himself back to Ashenvale in order to rest properly, but only after stopping by Stormwind to send a few very important (and apologetic) letters first.

Author Jander
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