Stormwind wasn’t home, but it was the second closest thing to it for Jaina. The city that should have been home was now a blasted crater and that was a wound that was unlikely to ever heal–not within her lifetime at any rate. It was easier not to think of such nebulous concepts since this city itself was a testament of the trasitory nature of life. A kingdom could rise and fall and rise again or it could lay in ruin as charred stone beside a mass gravesite.

She took her time to ascend the vast flight of steps that lead to the Keep and with any luck, she would find Varian within. Not for the first time she thought of turning around. Maybe years ago she might have surrendered to that impulse. Now she was older and she liked to think that she was somewhat wiser. After all, giving into nerves wasn’t necessarily proper behaviour for an Archmage of the Kirin Tor.

Given how events had turned out the last time they’d been together, she owed it both to herself and Varian to actually speak with him. Perhaps using the mirror would have been better, it certainly would have been easier, but this was a conversation she needed to have with him in person. Hopefully she’d be able to find Anduin as well.

She took a moment to compose herself and entered the Keep without so much of a glance from the ever present guards stationed at the front. They knew her well enough by sight and so did the attendant who took one look at her and went running off, no doubt in search of his king.