The Fall of the Lich King

It was over in an instant. Like the flame of a candle being snuffed out by a quick breeze. Nixxiom now stood motionless staring off into the distance of Blades Edge Mountains. His mind had only moment ago been plagued by the whispers of the Lich King, but now only silence rested in his thoughts.
"Hello?" He had said it out loud to nothing, as if a voice would reply. Yet no response came to him. The whispers had ceased. The Lich King had lost his connection with Nixxiom's mind. He had fallen.
As the realization struck him, Nixxiom couldn't help but gape while the breeze of the mountains tickled his cheek. He could feel now. He could feel the wind massaging his body as it blew over him. He could feel the sun warming his once cold skin.
Now he understood. How he understood why even with his druidistic training he wasn't able to return to life. As long as the Lich King lived, Nixxiom's soul was still his. How however, feeling returned to Nixxiom's body. He stretched his hand one and could even now feel the bones shifting under his skin. His vision even shifted, and now where once sat the dark gray glow of his aura now sat a light purple hand that was in cased within a white glove etched in runes.
His vision had returned. The veil of blindness had left his eyes. He could feel, he could breathe, he could even taste the vapor in the air. He now understood. He was alive... And there was only one person he wanted to see with his new sight. Only one person who's softness he wanted to feel. Nixxiom turned on one foot and began to walk into the mountains. He was heading back to Ashenvale...