Chapter 6

Quel'Thalas, a land once golden orange in a perpetual state of autumn, was now wrought with dark clouds due to the destruction of the Sunwell.

Light drops of rain began to fall upon Helios, though he paid it no mind.

All was lost.

The kingdom, his squad, and worst of all, his oh so loving, eternally supportive wife. After centuries of trying, she was finally pregnant. Yet when the call to arms spread through the land, she was the first to volunteer.

Bold, strong, compassionate, she was his Sunwell.

She was with them now, raised into undeath before his very eyes. Her cold uncaring gaze and snarl of savagery was so alien, it sent him sprawling in horror.

Countless died, yet nothing prepared him for this. He couldn't take it.

He ran.

The cries of betrayal from his unit rang hollow as he escaped the truth.

After an indeterminate amount of time, he found himself in Sunstrider Square staring blankly at his feet.

One thought constantly pounded itself within his mind.

'If I'm not here anymore, everything will be better for everyone.'

He had been psyching himself up for the last six days, yet he couldn't go through with it.

And now when the wise had finally gathered, a disturbing distraction presented itself.

Hellos looked on at the dancing display taking place in front of the Palace of the Sun, and it sickened him.

He gripped the green cloak of his fallen lover, trembling in rage. The dried blood dyed dark crimson was awash with his mournful tears.

For the past six days, Helios heard the haunted banshees screams whenever he tried to relax. When he closed his eyes, all he saw was her bloodstained face presenting itself to him as she gasped wordlessly with a blade in between her ribs. The sound of an endless twang of bows couldn't escape his mindscape as the endless tide monstrosities came.

Then the mana sickness came. He and what few survivors there were began to turn unhealthily pale. Their skin dried, and the hunger pangs ate away from within like a parasite digging its way out.

He had already seen a dozen people jump from the palace. Helios had considered joining them…but then he had heard a commotion that sent him into a rage.

Half an hour ago, soldiers riding carriages tossed something miraculous into the crowd of desperate, sick people.

Midnight black hair covered his eyes as he stared down at the glowing blue rock sitting at his feet. He desperately wanted to pick it up, and absorb it for all its worth. Yet a part of him was disgusted for even considering feeding this newfound addiction.

But the hunger was insidious.

When he first laid eyes upon one, his heart rate skyrocketed, and his eyes dilated. He almost bashed in the skull of a fellow Ranger while he scrambled on the ground like some boar hungrily feeding upon its slop.

When he finally came to and his hunger pangs barely subsided, he was greeted with that pompous, self serving asshole's smiling visage.

For centuries, Helios had been stuck at the rank of Lieutenant within the Farstriders. He was amongst the elite of the elite. The special forces that all Quel'Dorei strive for. He wasn't some mere hobbyist playing dress up like so many so-called Rangers. He was damn good at his job, and after sweat, pain, and plenty of Troll blood, he was due a promotion.

Drunk on his impending ascension, Helios attended a play with his friends, as was customary.

When the spawn of Vandercross pranced about the stage, proud as a peacock strutting its stuff, acting out the smiting of some foul demon, Helios had seen enough.

Most actors in Highborn society reenacted the deeds of their ancestors, or actions they had personally taken part of. But Vandercross crossed a terrible threshold. Varrus reenacted Helios' very own father, and his tragic sacrifice during the Sundering. He turned his father's devotion to their people into a comedy!

Helios's entire being was wholeheartedly put into the Farstriders, to exterminate any and all threats to the Highborn. Whether it be man, beast, child or elderly, all fell to his blade in the name of Quel'Thalas!

And Vandercross slapped him across the face, insulting his very reason for existence!

He couldn't help himself, and had to say something, to speak out against this abomination! Hellos had jumped up the stage, and backhanded the whelp to the ground.

Of course, Helios was struck down from behind by the coward's guards while he stood in triumph over the pretty boy.

And like that, not only was he denied his due, but he was demoted to sergeant due to the corrupt father and son duo.

Hundreds of years of work, merits and countless sleepless days. Gone with the snap of some old bastard's fingers.

Seeing Vandercross's smiling face, and energetic wave, why, it sent Helios' blood to a raging boil!

Shifting his gaze left and right, Helios picked out several others with less than satisfied faces. Tell tale signs such as frowns, clenched fists, and grinding teeth, all expressions that pointed out a simmering resentment for Silvermoon's most notorious playboy.

Gripping her cloak one more time, Helios felt emboldened to act. Either he ended it all, and finally found peace, or he could be the spark that ignited change.

"Hear me brothers and sisters, I am Farstrider Lieutenant Helios! Like you, I have lost everything to this curse. This vile curse that our leaders had been well aware of for a month before it entered our fair city!

We've been ruled by the same people for nearly 7,000 years, I'm sick of it! Look at what their ineptitude has wrought! I've fought against the Trolls my entire life! Never once did we free ourselves of that menace, and now a Scourge of plague and undeath has visited our lands!

Without the Sunwell, without our immortality, we are lost! All the while those same nobles calling themselves to be 'the wise' hole themselves inside the palace, and this noble brat flaunts his wealth in an attempt to buy us off!

We've all known the name Vandercross, and his penny pinching policies. Many of us are also aware of his spawn! The very same boy who bribed his way into no less than 1,000 plays, and ruined several prominent actresses' reputations! Are we to believe such a child truly was a powerful archmage all along?! He's not fooling anyone, we see through his weak act! Therefore, we must seize the Mana Stones! Without them, we will die!"

"More stones, I need more mana!" One man charged the guards with reckless abandon.

Like a dam bursting, he was soon joined by a dozen more people.

Helios gripped the bloodied cloak one more time, and joined them.

Varrus gaily twirled Syra round and round, his heartbeat began to race as he drank in her figure.

"Magnificent." Varrus breathlessly said as their dance became more and more acrobatic.

Syra opened her mouth to say something, but whatever she was going to say was interrupted as she violently moved Varrus to the side.

The sudden shift in momentum had Varrus witness a series of fireballs and magic arrows explode where he had just stood.

"Enemy attack!" Rho'dan called, and rushed forward.

Varrus immediately got into game mode and prepared his Restoration spells to take out some Undead.

However, much to his shock, his assailants were 18 loving, breathing High Elves.

The light spell died on his fingertips, and he hesitated. Did these people want his Mana Stones? Did he really have to kill these few people in front of a crowd of thousands?

There had to be some misunderstanding.

"Non-lethal, I want them alive!" Varrus shouted at his guards as they began to engage the enemy.

Blinking 20ft above the combat zone, Varrus cast Wind Running: Grants the ability to sprint across thin air and immunity to fall damage for 30 seconds.

Walking across the sky, Varrus began to shoot out the spell Paralyze left and right.

The assailants dropped like a sack of hammers, and were quickly tied up by his guards.

However, one attacker, a ranger, was impossible for Varrus to hit with his single target spell.

The ranger possessed incredible agility, and easily dodge rolled each and every one of Varrus's attacks. Furthermore, he retaliated with dozens of magic arrows in just a few seconds.

Each arrow was surprisingly fast, powerful, and accurate.

When Varrus Blinked to evade them, the archer seemed to predict exactly where he would arrive, and Varrus was greeted with six arrows straight to his Ebony Flesh.

Thankfully he had improved his spell power with his enchantments, because the arrows exploded in a shower of arcane power, significantly tearing into Varrus's defense.

All that happened in less than a minute, yet was enough time for Syra to knock any who weren't paralyzed unconscious with the flat of her buster sword.

When she got to the archer, he tried to pull a long sword, only to have it knocked from his grasp, and have his teeth knocked out by a series of punches to the chin.

Syra then kneed him in the stomach, and forced him to his knees.

When Varrus approached, Syra placed her giant sword onto the archer's neck, and glanced at him, silently asking for his opinion.

Varrus shook his head in the negative, then smiled in thanks. He then took in the dark haired assailant-a rarity amongst a primarily blonde race-and based on his skills, took him to be the leader of this group.

"Why do you want me dead? Was it for the Mana Stones? Did someone send you?" Varrus said as he roughly lifted the man by his long hair.

"You, hah, you don't even know who I am, do you?" The man struggled to speak through bloodied lips, coughing up blood in the process.

Varrus quickly searched his memory, and for the life of him, he couldn't place this face to anyone he knew.

"So I'm not even a footnote? Figures, hah!" The man said between fits of coughing. "I'm not some assassin or political rival. Just some nobody with a dead dream, a cursed wife and no future so to speak. Just do it, kill me and be over with it." The man spat spite filled blood down onto Varrus's boots.

Syra wordlessly kneed him in the forehead, knocking him onto his back. The snap of his neck, and skull hitting the pavement was not a pretty noise.

He simply grinned crimson up at them.

Varrus frowned. Was this truly a random attack? Or was it as he said, he was a man on his last string with nothing to lose?

"Do it, coward." The man taunted.

Yet to Varrus, it almost seemed like he was staring out at nothing, not even speaking to Syra or him at all.

A moment of silence passed between the two of them, and Varrus slowly drew his blade, placing it upon his assailant's neck.

"If I'm to do this, I at least need to know your name."

"What difference does it make?" The man said listlessly.

"I've never killed a person before. The least I could do is remember this moment, and take it as a life lesson." Varrus replied grimly.

"Really?" Helios snarked.

Varrus replied with silence. His grip firmed on the hilt of his sword, and he slowly nodded.

While he had no qualms with offing those who wanted him dead, it was one thing to do it in the heat of the moment, and another with his enemy literally on his knees and at his mercy. Besides, Helios was just so broken, it didn't feel right to kill someone who obviously was doing a 'suicide by cop' type of maneuver.

The whole situation was just sad, and almost kind of pathetic. Despite the threat to his life, Varrus couldn't help but pity this obviously damaged man. How many more of the Highborn were just like him, but kept it repressed? It wasn't so surprising that the leadership amongst the Blood Elves canonically resorted to brainwashing their population when PTSD was such a serious issue.

"What an eye opening experience before my demise! Not only is the child of Vandercross an accomplished mage, but he's surprisingly innocent! Very well, I am Helios, remember me as the first kill of your life!" Helios said with some renewed energy, and went to plunge himself upon Varrus's blade.

Varrus was caught off guard, and failed to retract his blade in time.

"There is hope for you yet My Sunwell." Helios muttered to himself as he collapsed in a puddle of his own blood.

Radiant energies escaped Varrus's hand as he cast Infinite Light: Stream of healing energy that diffracts between targets, healing 150 points per second.

Wounds coagulated, and Helios was soon gasping in air as his chest and lungs were repaired.

"Why? Why would you bring back the man who tried to kill you? You may not know me Varrus Vandercross, but I know you, and I can't stand the sight of you." Helios said in fury as he tried to charge at Varrus.

Varrus saw through Helios's sloppy form, and knew he wasn't seriously trying to kill him.

Raising a hand, Varrus tossed out a Paralyze, and watched as Helios collapsed to the ground.

"For someone who doesn't want to live anymore, you sure are energetic. Do you truly hate me? Or is that self hatred an excuse you use to take your hurt out on others? Would the person who owned that cloak want to see you like this?"

"Shut up! You spoiled playboy! You know nothing of me." Helios shouted from the ground.

"No? You tell me about your cursed wife, and grip onto that ranger cloak rather tightly for a man who doesn't care. I think you do have something to live for, and I think I can help." Varrus said in pity.

"Do not mock me Vandercross. You may have hidden your talent as a mage well, but you cannot convince me to believe in your change of character. You're better off ending me here and now to save yourself the future dagger in your back." Helios bitterly scoffed.

"Maybe. Maybe I am the same foolish playboy at heart. Maybe it's because of that, that I want to believe in my people's spirit. No matter how powerful I am as a mage, or flush with riches beyond ken, I am but one light in a sea of turbulence. I cannot rebuild Quel'Thalas alone. If I am to act as a leader, I will need people like you, people with differing areas of expertise, and opinions to help center my decisions. So I ask you, are you truly willing to throw it all away here and now? To let your loved one rot away, trapped within her husk, silently losing her sanity as she is forced to commit atrocities against her own people?" Varrus entreated passionately.

The death and destruction he had witnessed over the last few days had haunted him. He had no savior complex, but if he was to take a life, it would be on his terms, not those of a damaged, suicidal man. 

Another moment of silence descended between the two.

"Why do you torture me Vandercross." Helios said weakly as he sat himself upright as the paralysis faded.

Varrus looked off into the horizon as he recalled the people he knew who had lost themselves in the fight against depression. He had wanted to do more, to be better, but he was of no help in the end.

"Because if I can make a difference, even if it's a little one, I want people to live a happier life. Why do you think I engage in these plays, or write fanciful stories? For power, money or influence? No, I am not that talented. I did those things because if even one person smiled or felt something from my performance, then I did something good. Knowing that I helped relieve their boredom, that I helped them escape for but a moment in this endless slog we call life. That, Helios, makes it all worth it." Varrus smiled to himself, and felt Syra clutch onto the hem of his robe in reassurance.

"I hope you truly mean those flowery words Vandercross…I will follow you for now, at least until we free my wife. So long as you conduct yourself with integrity Varrus Vandercross, you shall have my bow. But that doesn't mean I'm one of your House Guards, I'm simply monitoring you!" Helios slowly picked himself up, and sloppily saluted.

"We will avenge your wife, Helios. We will avenge all of our people." Varrus said with steel.

"Ah-hem, His Majesty bids you enter." Pathaleon coughed into his hand, and said from behind.

"Oh, finally changed his mind?" Varrus grinned.

"Yes, yes, so long as you quit it with this racket, the wise shall accept your request for a meeting." Pathaleon said dismissively. "Now make haste, His Majesty is very busy, and doesn't have time to waste!" Pathaleon snapped, then twirled around to take the lead.

"Faedra, Syra, Rho'dan, Helios, Kaden, follow me." Varrus turned to his companions, and motioned them to follow.

"Ah, there does seem to be a problem here. I was explicitly told to bring Vandercross inside. I am sorry, but you'll have to make this journey alone." Pathaleon said over his shoulder.

"They are with House Vandercross, do you dare deny a Highlord entry into the Palace of the Sun?" Varrus questioned with a hint of danger in his voice.

"The Spellbreakers will silence any spells you dare cast in an instant. Do you truly wish to go down this path?" Pathaleon hissed.

"My mistake, I forgot their invitation." Varrus slapped his palm upon his forehead as if he was some dunce.

"Invitation?" Pathaleon looked at Varrus quizzically.

Varrus held up his hand in reply, and focused on the Telekinesis spell. Testing his newfound spell power buff, Varrus twisted and pulled his hand backward in a sudden jerk once he found his target.

Shrieking metal rang sharply causing many Elves present to wince.

"My ticket." Varrus gestured toward the portcullis floating midair, then yeeted it into a destroyed section of wall.

Varrus clapped Pathaleon on the back, causing the man to flinch, and then he walked past the seemingly paralyzed guards, companions in tow.

"You can't just, I mean! Guards, stop them!" Pathaleon raged and sputtered.

Yet no one stood forth to oppose them.

"My, my, I truly won the slots with my son-in-law, hmm, wouldn't you say Pathaleon?" Faedra cooed as she sauntered by.

"Witch." Pathaleon muttered hatefully.

"You know, I heard King Anasterian turned his last herald into a newt when he was caught recording private information in his journal. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find such a journal, would you?" Faedra whispered conspiratorially.

"I haven't the faintest clue." Pathaleon grumbled as he turned away in a brisk hurry.

"That's too bad, I thought for sure I knew of one under the floorboards at the jewelry store. It was a green Hawkstrider leather-bound book if I recall." Faedra tittered behind her hand, then moved on.

"Yes. Then I shan't be keeping you, I have official business to take care of in the city. Faedra. Highlord Vandercross, Lady Vandercross." Pathaleon nodded at them, then promptly about faced.

Varrus looked on, impressed. If they went with this from the start, they would've skipped out on all the nonsense.

He then felt a distinct threat of danger in his arm as his wife's nails began to claw into his forearm. Surprisingly, even with his increased toughness, she still managed to make him feel some pain. Varrus truly married an apex predator amongst apex predators.

"Ahem, let us be off." Varrus pointedly ignored both women, and took the lead.

"Typical Vandercross politics." Helios spat.

"Don't be so disrespectful, he'll save our people from this darkness." Koren said with near fanatical worship.

Helios muttered something about crazies under his breath, then moved to catch up.

Rho'dan brought up the rear, and exchanged nods with some familiar faces within the royal guard.

As they approached a set of large double doors leading to the interior of the palace, Varrus paused.

He had many negative opinions on Kael'Thas for his actions. How he creeped on a teenage Jaina, let Garithos treat him like a whipping dog, how he simped for Illidan, then turned into Kil'Jaeden's pawn.

For a man with such a strong drive, he was rather easily bullied around.

In effect, Kael'Thas was the Elven equivalent of a moody teenager forced to lead a species on the brink of destruction.

Varrus honestly felt bad for the guy. Especially because of his dual sets of memories. From what he could remember, Kael'Thas was the only person to have ever shown Varrus kindness as a child. In a court of vipers, and centuries old machinations, Kael'Thas was a friend he could rely upon, and the only one who would speak to him not because he was the son of an important politician, but because they were friends.

It was a surreal feeling knowing that he was about to walk into that room, and be on opposite sides of the political spectrum from his only friend.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Varrus turned toward his companions, and steeled himself.

"Alright people, this is it. The future of our people will be decided in that room. Let's do this." Varrus channeled telekinesis, and flicked the giant double doors leading into the palace open with a bang.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kael'Thas barely restrained himself from drumming his fingers across his armrest in boredom as the assembly discussed the logistics behind supporting the humans.

If he could only speed things up and exact vengeance faster…

It was then when the meeting had reached its driest point that the doors to the room slammed open, and a group of five marched their way in.

Finally, some action.

Several warriors and mages rose from their seats, weapons and spells ready to be unleashed.

"At ease." Kael'Thas said with a wave of his hand as he recognized the leader of this contingent.

A moment of hesitation ensued, before they sat back down.

Kael'Thas assessed his old friend with some nostalgia. He never would have imagined Varrus to have hidden himself so deeply. He wondered if he knew him at all, that the playboy attitude could all be a facade.

If so, Kael'Thas felt that he had lost one more connection to this land and his people. If not for the fury of his father's demise, he would happily be sitting upon the Council of Six at Dalaran. Yet here he was, amongst the wise.

Whatever the truth was, Kael'Thas was happy to see a familiar face. Hopefully their friendship could last the test of time.

Varrus had such a self righteous look upon his face, his eyes scanned the hall before finally setting upon him. Kael'Thas slowly inclined his head. He eagerly awaited what Varrus was going to say, and how the old wiseman would react.

"You look like shit, Kael." Varrus said in obvious concern.

Kael closed his eyes, and smiled.

This was the feeling he was looking for. Ever since he left for Dalaran, he hadn't had someone care about his personal wellbeing once.

It was a long 40 years.

"You haven't been crying alone in the ruins of your father's study, have you? You're such an emo." Varrus teased and said with a chuckle.

Kael'Thas snapped his eyes open, and saw the same smirking face that boasted to him about his mischief while they faced the wall.

Varrus hadn't changed one bit.

"I must've been away from Quel'Thalas too long. I know not what this 'emo' is, but I am certain this derogatory slang is fit for none other than gutterspawn." Kael said with a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Sharp words Your Highness, yet it is not I fouling up your gutters!" Varrus said theatrically.

Kael leaned forward in anticipation. His friend always had a flair for the dramatic.

"Prince Kael'Thas, surely we have entertained this concerned citizen enough? After all, we have all seen his performances before, there is little substance to be had here. We mist focus on bringing the fight to the Scourge" Sanguinar said in a dry tone.

Kael leaned back, his countenance lost its glow. Yes, he had his priorities. No childhood nostalgia could take place over the revenge of his people.

"Continue Sanguinar." Kael reluctantly nodded.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Sanguinar half bowed before turning to Varrus.

"The wise appreciate your timely assistance in the west, and acknowledge your gift of Mana Stones. Your contributions will not be left out of our considerations as we plan the next phase of our people's survival. You have our thanks, Varrus Vandercross." Sanguinar said, and began to gently clap, which led to a light round of applause.

Once the applause ended, Sanguinar sat back down, and continued with the meeting. "Now about the issue of food, what information do you have upon our granaries, Lady Liadrin?"

Kael sucked in a breath as he watched the smile on his friend's face wilt and wane.

Reality hurt, Kael knew that much every time he stared at his broken blade. But the inevitable was something they all had to face head-on some day.

Varrus had reportedly retaken the western capitol, but information was in high demand, yet in pitifully low supply. For all they could tell, only a few dregs of Arthas' army marched upon the west. That was hardly a defining achievement compared to blowing up the Sunwell, and retaking the seat of government.

Lady Liadran awkwardly opened and closed her mouth as she glanced between Sanguinar and Varrus, seemingly unsure of what to say.

"Go ahead my dear, this is a civilized place, there is no fear of reprisal, and no Convocation to muzzle your mouth. We serve the sovereign." Sanguinar said, and raised a glass of wine in praise to Kael.

"To Prince Kael'Thas!" Several other attendees raised their own goblets, and shouted.

"Seven thousand years of tradition, and you seek to sweep it all under the rug Sanguinar? Do you even know why the Convocation formed?" Varrus stepped forward, and raised his voice.

"As one of the founding citizens of Silvermoon, I would know better than most, I imagine." Sanguinar was quick to retort.

"Then you are aware of our people's shortcomings! Seven Houses grand, seven trades command. Enchanting, golems, alchemy, forestry, arcane, holy, and Mana Stones. Each of these seven heroes drove back the Trolls, and created the very basis for which this society stands." Varrus said, impassioned as he strode around the floor.

"In the process creating a system of crockery, and malfeasance. Anasterian was the greatest king to grace these lands, yet it was the Convocation's treachery that had him cut down in his prime. Once upon a time, those heroes were a necessity, even now, our people need men and women like them. But you, young Vandercross, are not that Elf." Sanguinar rapped his knuckles upon the great table, and shook his head.

Varrus smiled, and Kael knew that whenever that look appeared on his face, mischief was soon to follow. He couldn't help but feel some excitement well up inside of him once more.

"Mana Stones, my dear Sanguinar, you are familiar with the item in question, no?"

"Whatever performance you think you are putting on, stop. We know you have drained the Vandercross vault dry. There is no point in continuing with this charade, spare us your diatribe, and leave us. There is much work to be done, and we have no time to spend on your petty politicking." Sanguinar waved his hand, and covered his forehead like he was tired beyond belief.

"You think these crystals come from my family vault?" Varrus had a curious expression of bemused bafflement upon his face as he asked.

"Then allow me to disabuse you of that notion." Varrus happily said as he raised his hands, and began to wave them about.

Several more Elves tensed, yet Sanguinar scoffed.

"Enough with the parlor tricks, guards, see them out!" Sanguinar ordered.

A dozen royal guards moved close, yet when they were no more than 10ft away, they paused in their steps. They all seemed to eye Syra with extra precaution.

"Are you disobeying a command?" Sanguinar said with incredulity, a tinge of violence entered his voice.

"We obey His Majesty. Only the full vote of the Convocation could rouse us otherwise." One guard curtly replied.

Sanguinar looked to Kael, but Kael ignored him in favor of the glowing Mana Stone that appeared in Varrus's hands.

"Amazing." Kael said in awe as his hunger pangs began to hit a new high as he took in the bluish rock, roughly the size of a man's thigh, composed entirely of pure mana.

"My gift, to you." Varrus walked forward, and presented the Mana Stone to Kael.

Unable to contain himself, Kael held the Mana Stone in his lap, and stroked it lovingly.

"Your Majesty."

"Your Majesty."

"Hm?" Kael blinked and saw Sanguinar looking at him in concern.

The royal guard had drawn their blades, and were in a standoff with Varrus's entourage.

"Your Majesty, are you okay?" Sanguinar said.

"I'm fine." Kael bit out.

He then closed his eyes, and pulled on the mana within the stone.

Unchecked energy began to pulse through his veins. His pores took on a new glow, and his very being began to feel reborn. All sickness and malays were pushed to the back of his mind as ecstacy poured into his system.

The stone began to wither and crack under his ministrations. It slowly lost its luster, and turned dim before turning into a pile of ash.

He sighed, hoping it would last just a little longer, as he was almost topped off.

Kael had hoped his friend had come to the palace with something in hand. Hoped that he wouldn't have to send his only friend home in disappointment. Kael valued his friendship greatly, but his responsibilities to his people took precedence. However, Varrus had delivered, and now he could publicly show his appreciation!

Kael stood from his seat, and walked forward to embrace Varrus with a tight hug. He shook, and almost cried. There was finally a source of mana for his people! The weight of finding a replacement for the Sunwell had eased up just enough that Kael could get some breathing room to think! With Varrus at home staving off their peoples' hunger, he would be free to seek Arthas's head!

"You are a Hero my friend! Let none say that you have no place amongst the wise. Come, Varrus, take a seat!" Kael flexed his rejuvenated energy, and conjured a seat next to his, then sat Varrus down upon it.

Varrus had a stunned look, and was muttering something to himself about an Adept level stone or some such in shock.

Kael couldn't help but chuckle. It was a rare occasion when he could surprise his friend.

"You're not the only one who has improved, my powers have more than doubled since the last time we met, Highlord." Kael puffed himself up in pride, and jabbed at his friend at the same time.

"More like quadrupled." Varrus muttered sarcastically.

"Mana Stone creation, surely creating an item of that value is quite taxing without the Sunwell. You wouldn't happen to be able to reproduce this feat, would you?"

"Sanguinar." Kael said in warning.

He had understood his faithful advisor's concern, but now that Kael had made his stance clear, Sanguinar's intense dislike of Varrus was beginning to irk him.

"Apologies, Your Majesty, but this is a sensitive matter regarding the future of our people. Should this indeed be a one off event requiring long times recharging, then there is no point in continuing this affair." Sanguinar bowed his head.

Kael hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"No, he is right, Kael. I'll make more right now, enough that everyone present can have a feel for themselves. Seeing is believing afterall." Varrus chuckled, then began to consecutively conjure up Mana Stone after Mana Stone.

After a time, they were all passed around, and absorbed by those present.

Varrus seemed to have a solemn look as some in the crowd could absorb an entire crystal all by themselves.

"Something troubles you my friend?" Kael said in amusement.

"Not much Kael, I am just reminded that everyone sitting at this table truly deserves to be here. Not many people have a large enough capacity to absorb this much mana." Varrus replied.

"Is that respect I hear in your voice?" Kael mocked.

Varrus half smiled, and rolled his eyes.

Kael felt relief enter his system. He hadn't joked like this in a very, very long time. The mages of Dalaran were kind, yet distant, while his fellow Highborn were always scheming against him. This was the feeling of acceptance he had longed for all his life.

"Your Majesty, we can accept that Vandercross can sit amongst us, but why is his entourage present?!" Thaladred loudly proclaimed, and banged his plate covered fist upon the table.

"Is that a challenge for a duel I hear?" A seductive voice rang throughout the hall.

All was silent as a familiar face made itself known.

"Faedra." The name seemed to whisper around the hall.

Kael rubbed his eyebrows. He did not expect to meet his father's chief assassin in these circumstances.

"Some might fear your reputation for never being caught in the act of murder, but I never liked your coy, 'I'm better than you' demeanor! If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get!" Thaladred heated his axe, and saluted, only to have the Ranger General, Lor'Themar, hold him back.

"We are not some children so easily riled up by the mere presence of some upjumped information broker, are we, Thaladred?" Lor'Themar questioned.

"Release me Lor'Themar!" Thaladred raged.

"Come now my friend, these five deserve to be here such as you. Syra Vandercross was amongst the first of the Highborn to learn the skills of the paladin in the Orc War, and was vital in the war effort. Faedra Greathollow's information was instrumental in preventing two Civil Wars as you'll recall. The youth, Koren Vongstag is an accomplished dragonhawk rider, representing the airborne forces of Quel'Thalas. The guard in heavy plate, Rho'dan, is a veteran of every war, same as you. Finally, one of my Farstriders, a man I considered promoting to my third in command, Helios stands at their back. Surely we can all get along?" Lor'Themar said patiently, and with a diplomatic smile.

"I am not your friend Lor'Themar. The failure of the Rangers is apparent for all to see. You may be older than most, supposedly the wisest in this hall, yet you always were the Windrunners whipping boy! Where did relying upon those whiny women get us?! Where are the other two sisters when our people are in danger? I do not answer to you, fool." Thaladred snarled, and roughly shook off Lor'Themar's arm.

"Bravo, Sanguinar, a dog is only useful as long as he is leashed. You have trained him well." Faedra mock clapped.

"Thaladred's only concern is the safety of Quel'Thalas. Perhaps a demonstration of his prowess will convince those present of his cause?" Sanguinar said over his shoulder. addressing the wise.

"We are not barbarians, we are not the orcs." Lor'Themar entreated.

"Time in the field has addled your mind, Ranger General. The duel has always been the way of settling disputes upon Azeroth. What say you, Vandercross?" Sanguinar locked eyes with Varrus.

Kale made to say something, but before he could, a woman's voice rang throughout the hall.

"I accept, I will not accept your insults toward my husband any further. I shall enjoy making you suffer." Stepping forth, a buxom blonde woman carrying an overly large sword presented herself.

"Sending a woman to fight in your stead, boy? You never should've come here." Thaladred taunted, and scraped his battleax upon the marble floor, pulling sparks into the air.

"Go Syra, kick his ass!" Varrus cheered, and clapped from the side.

"Quel'Dorah!" A random Elf shouted.

Soon after, more cries of "Quel'Dorah" followed.

The floor was hastily cleared, and the meeting table pushed to the side in preparation for the oncoming fight.

"This is your wife?" Kael raised an enquiring eyebrow.

He was somewhat miffed that he hadn't been invited to give his friend away at the wedding.

"Yeah, she's the best." Varrus said thoughtlessly, ignoring Kael. His eyes only had room for Syra.

Kael scoffed, then pursed his lips. That girl must be something to snare his friend so tightly. The old Varrus would never be so enamored with anyone in the past.

"Your Majesty, if you would officiate?" Sanguinar enquired, breaking Kael out of his thoughts.

Kael adjusted his collar, and stood tall in regal pose #3 that he had learned from his tutors.

"Thaladred the Darkener, you have been challenged to a Quel'Dorah-a duel of high valor-from Syra Vandercross, do you accept?" Kael spoke with as much authority and grace decades worth of royal training had taught him.

"Quel'Dorah!" Thaladred slapped his plated gauntlet onto his cuirass, and bowed to Kael.

"Syra Vandercross, do you-"

"Quel'Dorah." Syra interrupted Kael, and drew her buster sword.

"Very well, begin!" Kael stomped his foot, and a small pulse of arcane energy swooshed through the room, signaling the start of the Quel'Dorah.

Both combatants leapt forward, and met in the middle. Their oversized weapons locked in a struggle for power, each seeking to push the other back.

Light energy pulsed around Syra, and empowered her blade with a holy golden glow.

Countless light rays burst and exploded off her sword, churning up pieces of marble as they exploded all around Thaladred.

Whatever explosion was going to strike Thaladred was magnetized toward his shield, and absorbed by its enchantment.

"Hurah!" Thaladrad pushed out with all his strength, and his shield began to slowly suck all the light away in the room until it became the only light source. The vacuum ability was so powerful, it even began to drain Syra's own light infused weapon.

"Huh, so that's why he's called 'the Darkener." Varrus nodded his head in understanding.

'How can you be so casual while your wife is engaged in mortal kombat?!' Kael glanced askance at his friend.

"By the Light, burn!" Thaladred roared, releasing the pent up energy in his shield as a concentrated beam of death.

Kael raised his hands, prepared to intervene at any moment. Doubtful as he was, if she was worthy of his friend, he wouldn't sit by and watch Varrus's wife die. Cultural significance of a Quel'Dorah be damned.

Syra dodge rolled beam after beam, seemingly moving away just in time. Every spot that the beam missed cratered the ground, and shook the very foundations of the palace.

All the while, she was beaming a bright, excited smile at Varrus. In Kael's eyes, it was as if she wasn't paying attention to the fight at all.

Loose rubble and debris fell from the rafters, dirtying the once immaculate palace floor.

The corner of Kael's mouth twitched, and his hair cast a shadow over his eyes. He had just repaired the damage to the palace an hour ago.

"DIE whelp!" Thaladred slammed his shield onto the ground, creating a pulsing ring of energy that spread out to cover the room.

Syra performed a handstand jump to dodge.

Thaladred began to laugh as he moved to intercept her, confident she had nowhere to run to.

Syra then conjured a chain of light energy, and used it as a whip on the wall to reorient herself.

Caught off guard, Thaladred was met by a boot to the helm, and was knocked flat onto his back, sliding along until he fell into one of the many pits he had created.

Kael's eyes went wide as he had a sudden realization.

"She's playing with him." Kael muttered in awe.

His observation didn't seem to be unique, as the other wise seemed to similarly be in shock.

Thaladred jumped out of the hole with silent fury, and swiped his axe at Syra in a flurry of fast and accurate swipes.

Yet Syra replied with a wide smile, and either side stepped, or parried every single strike to perfection.

A chain of light formed on her hand, and she lassoed it around the horns on Thaladred's helmet. With a heave, Syra body slammed him onto his back, then wrenched his helmet off.

Fair blonde hair spooled in front of Thaladred's face, yet Kael caught sight of horrible burn scars.

Thaladred grimaced, and faced the floor to hide his appearance from everyone. He then changed his shield with his axe, triggering another enchantment that absorbed all the light in the room, turning it completely dark.

Even though Elves had the ability to see in the dark, Kael could not see in this magically induced darkness.

Invisible howls of frustration, and the sound of metal on metal met Kael's ears. The intensity of the conflict only served to make him nervous for the outcome.

Should either one of them die, there would be hell to pay.

After another minute of off and on clashing, there was absolute silence.

The tense silence lasted for more than five minutes before Thaladred's pained voice cried out "I yield!"

Like the lights of an orb suddenly illuminating the room, the darkness retreated, and light spilled once more into the hall.

Thaladred once more wore his helm, yet he was on his knees with his head bowed toward Syra.

"I see the error of my ways. Your valor was greater than mine." Thaladred said weakly.

Kael let loose a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Hah hah! Well done My Love! My wife is the most stunning woman in all of Quel'Thalas!" Varrus rushed forward, and pulled her into a deep kiss.

"All for you." Syra cooed as she snuggled into his embrace.

Kael looked away. If only Jaina could see him in a similar light…

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty! Bad news!" Pathaleon shouted as he burst into the room.

"What's the problem Pathaleon, is it the Undead, have they made a resurgence?!" Kael questioned.

"T-trolls! Off the coast! I thought you should know."

Kael was going to ask for further details when tribal war drums began to sound throughout the city.

"To arms, to arms, the Amani have come!" Kael shouted to everyone present.

Kael hadn't been there to stop the Undead, he would be damned if he stood by while their most hated enemy came by to finish the job!

Fire, fury and arcane energy coursed in his veins.

Today he would burn a core memory into the Troll bloodline.

The Quel'Dorei were not to be trifled with!

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AN: Read up to chapter 37 on: patreon.com/KarpQQ 

Schedule is still M-F, but what the hell, why not?