Before you brave the lands now cursed by ruin and time,
Before sword leaves sheath and spells break silence,
You must first hear the truth that turned a man into a godless shadow.

He was once Azapar; High Arcanist of the Ivory Conclave.
A man born of flame and vision,
Whose heart pulsed not for conquest…
But for her.

But love, like light, is fleeting.
And in his thirst to outrun death itself…
He betrayed her.
He forsook her.
And so, the stars bore witness as Azapar died…
And the Lich-King was born.

Yet in the cold of unlife,
In a tower veiled in storm above the Isack Pass,
He penned one final letter…
A whisper scrawled by fingers no longer flesh.

⸻

To My Dearest Lamb, Whose Light I Shall Never Touch Again,

If this letter, like a ghost, should find thee wandering ’neath the stars,
Let it bear not comfort, but the weeping of a soul unmade.
From yon cold spire north of Isack Pass, where sun and song have fled,
I scratch these words with bones that once did tremble at thy gaze.

Seek me not, I beg thee, sweetest bloom of summers past.
The roads are charred and writhing with the damned,
And were they not, still would I bar thy path,
For I am now unworthy of thy tread, thy tear, thy touch.

Know this: my heart, though stilled, doth beat in mourning still.
My ruin was my choice, as thirst for power drank me dry.
To master death, I buried all I was,
And in that grave, I laid thy name, thy smile, thy grace.

Forgive me not, such mercy I have forfeited.
Yet still, this parchment cries for it,
A final whimper ’gainst the winds of fate,
Knowing well thy voice shall never grace mine ears again.

Live, my lamb. Live far from shadows such as I.
If thou art safe, then let the stars forget me whole.
Let all my name be ash upon the wind—
Save in thy dreams, if dreams still dare recall me.

-From the broken will and deathless crown of
Azapar, the Lich-King
Whose throne is frost, whose heart is rot,
Yet once beat wild for thee.

⸻

His words were never meant to be read.
Not by man. Not by mortal.
And yet, here you stand,
On the eve of a reckoning long buried beneath stone and shadow.

The Lich-King has stirred.
His soul is shattered, but his will is eternal.
And his tower hungers again.

This is where your journey begins.

Will you face the echoes of love betrayed…
Or be devoured by the wrath of a god who once dared to dream?