*
If Krehgal could have had anything he wished for at that moment, it would have been death.
He sat in the very throne Abalanor had been in when he'd first made contact with Xir, allowing him to tear open the Rift and draw upon the extra power he needed. Upon making that connection, Abalanor realized that Xir needed something else. He needed a host body to inhabit when he returned to the Lands. Something to contain the massive energies of the Ancient Prisoner as he re-emerged upon this world.
And without a doubt in his mind, the dark elf did not want it to be his own.
That was why Krehgal was strapped into the throne. That was why Abalanor and established with a mystical link between Prince of Southmoor and the Dark Twin.
Every second of every day was living hell and damnation for the disgraced knight. At least that's how it felt. Krehgal could feel Xir exploring every single particle of his being, flooding it with a bare fraction of the Power that was his to draw upon. Every second of the day, it felt like he was being pulled apart by the seams and then thrown back together. And then ripped apart again. The agony was excruciating.
But that was nothing compared to actually seeing Xir in his mind.
All that Krehgal could actually see anymore was the archmage himself. The dark figure with the crimson staff that drew upon the Powers of the Universe and gave them directly to Xir. In contrast, Xir himself directed that Godlike Power at one point and only one point in the gray mists of his prison.
And that point was directly on the link tied to Krehgal.
IT'S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME, Xir continued to say. Over and over. It was like a mantra for the archmage. Something he said to keep himself calm as he burrowed a way through his prison. IT'S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME.
And after an unknown number of days of being connected with Xir, Krehgal could only bring himself to really think one thing.
"... it's only a matter of time... it's only a matter of time... "