Kael'thas's Helplessness with the Three Artifacts

In the elven district of eastern Theramore, the morning mist had yet to disperse. Newly transplanted Silverleaf Trees rustled in the breeze, their leaf edges still bearing the golden trim unique to Eversong Woods—a detail Deren had specifically requested, so the elven refugees could feel a sense of home.

Jaina Proudmoore stood beneath a hastily erected white canopy, the sea breeze lifting her silver-white hair. She held a glass test tube in her hand. Sylvanas stood before the crowd, with rows of test tube racks laid out on the table beside her. Several High Elves were lined up to receive their doses.

"Next."

A gaunt elven girl staggered forward. Her fingertips were an unnatural bluish-purple, and an unhealed burn marked her left cheek—the wound she had inflicted on herself while attempting to cast a Fire Spell that no longer worked. Her face twisted painfully as she fought to endure something.

"Take a deep breath." Sylvanas held the tube to the girl's lips, her movements gentle as though handling something fragile. "You won't be able to control yourself in a moment, but don't worry."

The surrounding elves let out good-natured laughter. They knew this scene all too well—they had been the same way just days ago.

A heat wave suddenly swept across the square.

The Silverleaf Trees' leaves instantly curled and scorched. The waiting crowd scattered like startled deer. Kael'thas Sunstrider approached with heavy footsteps, each step leaving a gray mark on the Stone Tablet pavement.

"Jaina Proudmoore." His voice was like an icy wind from the polar regions. "You call this 'treatment'? And you, Sylvanas, Ranger General of the Quel'dorei—what are you doing? Letting your own people fall into depraved laughter?"

The girl, who had been laughing hysterically, suddenly choked and shrank behind Sylvanas in terror. She watched as her prince advanced menacingly. Yet under the effects of the gas, she soon began laughing uncontrollably again.

Jaina slowly rose, and an Arcane Barrier silently unfolded to protect the elves behind her. "I am fulfilling my duty as a ruler, Your Highness Kael'thas." She deliberately emphasized the final words. "Treating the citizens of Theramore."

"Using this?" Kael'thas pointed at the elven girl still giggling foolishly, his golden pupils narrowing into slits. "This vile Alchemical Gas?"

Jaina explained, "Strictly speaking, this merely blocks the effects temporarily—"

"Shut up!" Sparks burst from Kael'thas's fingertips. "You have no idea what the honor of the High Elves means!"

"Then according to Your Highness," she said, stepping aside to clear his view, "what should we do now to preserve your 'honor'?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Several High Elves trying to make a living in Theramore suffer attacks every day. If they want to remain elegant, what do you suggest?" Sylvanas asked mockingly.

At the center of the square, more than twenty elves were busy with their work—carpenters carved Quel'Thalas-style door lintels, weavers spun Moonlight Silk, and several children drew scenes of Eversong Woods on Stone Tablets with charcoal. Their pale fingers trembled faintly, but not one of them was curled up in a corner convulsing.

"At least they can still stand." Jaina's voice suddenly sharpened. "Instead of being like certain compatriots in Dalaran—kneeling on the ground and licking up crystal scraps!"

Kael'thas's hand abruptly froze in midair. He recognized her as the second daughter of the Starfall family, a noble young lady once known for her reserve, now laughing without the slightest dignity. Flames flickered uncertainly in the prince's palm.

Kael'thas clenched his hand, and the flames died into bluish smoke. "This gas will only corrupt the elves! Make them forget their dignity!"

"Then what do you intend to do?" Jaina looked straight into his eyes with her blue ones. "Arcane Crystals aren't cheap, and I can't afford to provide them either." She tilted her head slightly. "How about... you provide them?"

The prince's lips trembled.

He remembered his empty treasury, the purple-black veins spreading across his father's withered arms, and the crystal fragments in Dalaran's warehouses that the elves had gnawed on.

He gave no answer.

On one side stood the High Elves' glory of thousands of years; on the other, the increasingly severe Mana Addiction he was powerless to solve among his people. As a prince, he had never felt so helpless.

At last, he heard himself say, "Jaina, for the sake of our acquaintance, promise me you won't let this spread into Dalaran. The High Elves have already lost their homeland. If we cannot even preserve our last shred of honor, what will we have left? Please take good care of our people in Theramore."

"Don't worry about that. The gas that got out before was smuggled there privately by Goblins. They're all people who only care about money. I'll make sure to keep them under control. Not a single bottle will reach Dalaran from now on. In fact, I don't have any extra to sell anyway." Jaina smiled as she promised him. Naturally, she would never let the prince know how much money she had received from the Goblins.

"Is it difficult to make?" Kael'thas asked curiously.

"Of course. Do you think something so useful, something that can relieve the symptoms, can be made so easily? Every bottle is piled up with gold coins." Jaina looked at him disdainfully.

Kael'thas nodded. For a fleeting moment, he wondered whether replacing Arcane Crystals with this gas might not be an option. But when he saw the noblewoman laughing wildly without any elven elegance, his heart was fiercely stabbed—if all elves used it, would a prince still be a prince?

Seeing his confusion, Jaina quietly suggested, "Why don't you try it too?"

"No—" Kael'thas refused without hesitation. He had tried that uncontrollable laughter before; there had been no dignity in it at all. Afraid that he might be unable to resist becoming addicted, he backed away repeatedly, opened a Portal, and vanished in haste.

Jaina and Sylvanas exchanged glances and smiled knowingly. It was the first time they had seen the ever-elegant elven prince so frightened and terrified.

"I'd wager he'll come back in the end," Sylvanas said with certainty.

Jaina replied calmly, "If he wants it now, I can give him a friendly price. Later on, that may not be the case. After all, the rarer something is, the more expensive it becomes."

"Next!" Sylvanas called out. The elves in Theramore quickly cast the noble prince from their minds.

Arcane light flashed. Kael'thas emerged from the Portal and returned to his residence in Dalaran, breathing hard. Only after he rushed into his room and shut the door did he feel a trace of safety, as though some terrifying monster were chasing him from behind. He knew it was temptation. Looking out at the streets, he saw that there were no longer any Goblins selling happiness. But a newly opened Goblin general store was hanging colorful banners to advertise a huge sale. It was legitimate business; no one could refuse it.

A burst of noisy commotion suddenly reached him. Kael'thas saw the youngest son of the Firewing family, along with two accomplices, grabbing an elven craftsman by the collar. "Hand over the crystal you received today!" His nails dug deeply into the other's skin, and sickly hunger gleamed in his eyes. "I know Dalaran gives you a daily allotment!"

The craftsman's sleeve was torn open, and a small crystal no larger than a fingernail rolled onto the ground. The three nobles immediately pounced on it like starving wolves.

"No, you can't do this. That's my crystal." The craftsman did not dare resist the nobles taking it from him. After thousands of years of being taught obedience, he had no instinct to resist. Besides, there were too many of them. He could only collapse to the ground and weep. He had spent years using magic to make jewelry and often suffered from Mana Addiction; he relied on the small amount of Arcane Crystals distributed by Dalaran to endure it.

Watching this farce, Kael'thas said nothing. Instead, he silently drew the curtains. The light was shut outside, and everything seemed to grow calm. He took several deep breaths, calculating how long his remaining Arcane Crystals could sustain him, and what he would do once they were gone. Was he, the prince of Quel'Thalas, supposed to rob elven craftsmen of their tiny allotments like the nobles below? He did not dare think any further. Walking to the liquor cabinet, he poured himself a large glass of Mana Wine and swallowed it in one gulp. He savored the wonderful sensation of mana and alcohol flowing through his body. It seemed that none of his worries or troubles mattered so much anymore. He lay back in a leather chair, emptied his mind, and sat there doing nothing.

Downstairs, the ugly scene between the nobles and the craftsman had yet to end. Those who had seized crystals began absorbing their mana, while those who had not continued searching the craftsman's body, trying to find another piece. The elven craftsman finally thought to resist, and several people rolled into a tangled heap. In their panic, the nobles punched him viciously several times, blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. Then they found another small Arcane Crystal, and the nobles burst into laughter as they began sharing its mana.

Vereesa watched the disgraceful spectacle of the elven nobles from afar, her eyes devoid of anger or any other emotion. Over the past few days, she had seen far too many similar farces. She turned and left, wanting to get away from the places that filled her with shame. But as she passed a secluded alley, she saw a human male mage from Dalaran embracing an elven noble girl.

The mage was whispering words that made Vereesa blush, while his hands were arranging the elven girl's clothing.

Vereesa rushed forward in fury and knocked the male mage down with one punch. "What the hell are you doing? You are not allowed to defile the honor of the Quel'dorei!"

Seeing Vereesa dressed as a ranger, the mage angrily got to his feet as well. "Nosy ranger, I didn't force her. Don't believe me? Ask her yourself. I traded an Arcane Crystal for her. It was consensual. What business is it of yours?"

Hearing that, Vereesa was struck speechless and looked toward the noble girl. When the girl met Vereesa's gaze, she lowered her head and held out her hand, revealing a small crystal in her palm. In a voice as soft as a whisper, she said, "I need this. I can't endure the Mana Addiction. Please leave quickly, I'm begging you!" Then she walked over to the male mage and helped him up with all her strength.

The male mage gave a satisfied grunt, making it clear that he was pleased. The two walked out of the alley. Before leaving, he shot Vereesa a vicious glare, angry that she had interrupted his good time. He even said in a flippant tone, "Hey, elven girl. If you need crystals too, come find me. I'll make sure you're satisfied!"

This time, Vereesa did not get angry. She merely stood frozen in the alley for a long time. She was young, had spent little time exposed to the Sunwell, and as a ranger, she rarely needed to use magic. So she barely suffered from Mana Addiction. But the elf just now had clearly come from a noble family, and her Mana Addiction had already become severe. She had no choice but to wander the streets looking for something to do in exchange for Arcane Crystals.

Tears silently streamed down Vereesa's face. She did not know what she was grieving for as confusion and helplessness suddenly overwhelmed her. She had once believed that she could find warmth and care among her own people in Dalaran. But reality was even crueler. The High Elves had lost their homeland, and they were also losing their dignity and honor.

"Sister... what should I do?" Vereesa murmured to herself.

First update. Achievement unlocked: Kael'thas's Three Artifacts. (Laugh!) The story will enter a new climax. Stay tuned! Please continue to vote and bookmark! Thank you, everyone, for your support. I will work hard to keep writing and updating.