[he leans back against the wall, drinking deeply from the bottle in his hand, his eyes fixed on Bariyan.]

My friend, the strands of life and death--of time in and of itself--are more complex than they seem. You made your promise because you wanted to do right by the child.

As you say, that has changed.

[he pauses, because they've been at this a while, and it's actually starting to take effect. The next exhale has some relief in it, as he feels the pain in his limbs dull. Oh, that's so nice. He goes on.]

My own world is a tangle of magic, of things that I soon learned were impossible in other places. I try to understand the particulars of other worlds on their own terms, but I cannot. I have only my own experiences--and the conclusions I took from them--to go on.

For example, Martin as he is now ... he seems a paragon of the Light.

[shaking his head, clearly laughing at himself.]

It makes little sense to anyone outside of Azeroth, but it is divine magic. It is what saved me from the Lich King's grip. And I sense the same power, or something much like it, in that child.