The room was bathed in the light from the impact upon the dome and Khadgar had been ready to attack once more, but the words that filled the room made him stop and a near fear appear upon his face as he listened. He was always forced to listen to that voice. The magic around him died down and the brighter blue left his already too blue eyes as he watched the Magus - could it truly be the Magus?

He threw the urge to rush towards him and hug him down into the depths of his stomach where they belonged and instead managed to find a little hope. Had the Magus truly come back? Was this actually him and not a vision or a trick of the Legion? He didn't want to hope and only be wrong again, he didn't want to put his faith that Medivh would be there for him to talk to, to sort these things out with only to have it tossed back into his face another time.

"It cannot be," he tried instead, trying to convince himself, though the magic-- "you cannot be Medivh."

Sargeras couldn't replicate that, could he? He felt it before he even saw him, heard his footsteps like it was just yesterday for the Magus to come strolling by to the library.

"Medivh is dead."

Who was he convincing? It surely wasn't himself. His shoulders slumped while both hands curled around Atiesh so he could lean upon it while he watched the figure stand there. Perhaps this was a hallucination from the lack of sleep, of course being in this place would rouse one of Medivh and it wasn't heard of for one to even feel like this.

It was like the Archmage aged another ten years as he leaned against the staff, warily watching Medivh, though less likely to strike out this time.