Another day went by for the Anchorite. Things have been... awkward, to say the very bare minimum. People keep looking at him with this... mournful? sort of look. It was sort of... off putting, if he were to be honest. If his own levels of anxiety and self-consciousness weren’t as staggeringly high as they were, he might have had an outburst. But bottling up feelings is something he has had the unfortunate need to do very often as of late. Still. He finally did manage to get... some modicum of comfort to the fact. Thanks to an error on Declain’s end, he finally was told the reasoning behind all of this supreme awkwardness; this wasn’t the first time he was here, so to speak. He had a double, that was here for a solid two years. That everyone knew and loved and invited into their lives. And he felt almost like he was an impostor, wearing another man’s face. And it really hurt. As he neared closer to the door of the small room he was renting there came a faint buzzing in his ear. This, of course, was normal for a day-to-day. But then he dropped his keys. Was... that his voice on the line? It couldn’t be... It was too deep. Too warbly. It sounded almost like...
A death knight.
“Hello? Is this the Anchorite of Stormwind University? I am calling with, well... with some information regarding... you.”
“Or, well. Us.”
This was... harder, than he imagined. And he prayed to the Good Light Above that his other self couldn’t hear the strained breathing; he felt like he was about to scream. And in a way, he was. Internally, at least.
“I, ah... Can hear you there on the line, so... I suppose I will just come out and say it. I know you have questions about my life. About what your life was supposed to do. Caniell told me, more or less. I, ah... suppose I should start from the beginning then, hm? ...This is... harder than I imagined it would be, if I am being truthful.” He laughed nervously. “Well... I was born and raised in Nagrand. We had talbuk. One was unruly, and hurt my father, which drew me from school to help the farm. This is where the timelines diverge, from what I gathered.”
A pause. It felt like the other was waiting for some kind of input. And so, a rather awkward moment passed for both of them. It just seemed to drag on while the anchorite made his way to the nearest carpet, promptly laying down upon the ground. Funnily enough, the other Lestuu was doing the exact same thing inside of the Deathlord’s encampment.
“W-Well... Yes. Yes it was something like that...” Another awkward pause. The hitch in his voice said more than he wanted to. Even though he knew if anyone would understand what he was going through, it would be himself. “I never had to go back. Which meant I wasn’t there when... Well, when the orcs attacked.” The memory was still fresh in his mind of that day. Two years did little to ease the pain. “...The village was demolished before I even got word of what happened. They built a fortress on top of my home... On top of my family.”
And now it was the undead Lestuu’s turn to hurt emotionally. He saw the warmaps of the that place. Even though he never had any inclination to visit the other Draenor, he knew the place he once called home was no more there. He just never in a million years would have guessed there was another one of him there. “When you say... ‘On top of,’ you don’t mean...?”
The anchorite made a choked sound. “Yes. I never was able to see them after that. Not even their bodies.” Both of them made no other comment on that for a long time. Each were thinking the same thing, though. The tension and awkwardness was thick in the air between, even entire planets apart. “...This is a lot harder than I thought it was going to be... You know as well as I do we are far too sensitive in matters like this. I just... I just really feel like this would be better suited in person.”
The anchorite sighed into a small chuckle. “I know this is rather stereotypical, given the consequences, but you had the same idea I was thinking. But... I know where you are. And how hard it can be to find time... I don’t want to pull you away from there-” “-Do not worry about me. Besides, we both need this.” The knight parted from the stone for a quick moment, during which the anchorite could have sworn he heard a dwarven voice on the line that sounded faintly familiar. “I need you to meet me in Dalaran. Can you get there?”
“Yes, of course. I hope Aluneth is around... Or perhaps I could visit the Recluse. ...I am rambling. In any case... I will meet you there. Be safe.” “I will. You as well.”
“Dioniss aca” ...They both said that at the same time. Which only added to the general awkwardness of the situation. Both quickly switched their stones off before the other could get a word in. The Death Knight, being covered by his friends Thessa, found Amal’thazad. The Lich always was quite friendly with him, and gladly opened a portal to the floating city. The Anchorite, meanwhile, began his search for a mage. Things were only going to get more awkward for the both of them from here on out. A lot of history was going to have be covered in only a night’s time. But at least they knew that if anyone was going to understand, it would be themselves.