The Future

"Alvin, come here."

Archbishop Faol sat at his desk and beckoned the prince who had just entered. A hint of fatigue showed in his voice. The long journey had worn out even the white-haired old man, but he had forced himself to stay alert until now.

When the boy obediently came over and stood before the desk, the old man picked up the thorn tea beside him, took a small sip to clear his head, and began speaking without preamble.

"Half a month ago, a large number of merchants from the Kingdom of Stormwind had already landed in Southshore with refugees. The information they brought was much like what we already knew. But according to their accounts, the Orcs were even more bloodthirsty and vicious."

"Of course, these were merchants of little standing within the Kingdom of Stormwind, along with a few minor nobles who had forgotten their honor. As for Tiffin Ellerian's father, he was the only one among them who held a seat on the Council of Nobles of the Kingdom of Stormwind."

At this, the archbishop's lips curved into a smile. "Although Baron Miles sacrificed his daughter for that precious seat, his loyalty to the Kingdom of Stormwind is beyond question. If I'm not mistaken, he should be meeting your father in Lordaeron's royal palace right now."

"So everything Mayor Martin said in the garden was true? The Kingdom of Stormwind is asking us for help?"

The archbishop's words left the prince looking utterly bewildered. In his memories, nothing like this had ever happened in the game!

In the game, the Kingdom of Stormwind and the Orcish armies fought fiercely in the south, but the humans on the continent of Lordaeron never noticed a thing. The Kingdom of Stormwind never sent a plea for help to the human kingdoms across the sea, either. It wasn't until the refugees fleeing after the fall of Stormwind City landed in Southshore that the humans living on Lordaeron realized war was coming.

Had the history he knew already begun to change? If so, what had caused things to turn out differently? Alvin's thoughts were in disarray. Suddenly, an old face flashed through his mind, and the boy blurted out, "Dalaran?"

Archbishop Faol nodded in approval, his eyes full of praise, and answered the prince's question.

"Exactly. The news brought by the mage Khadgar prompted those merchants, who weren't entirely bound to the Kingdom of Stormwind, to start looking for a way out. They aren't lords with vast estates, nor are they high-ranking nobles with great influence in the kingdom. With Lordaeron as a fallback, they're the only lucky ones who can flee without having to bear too much responsibility."

A mocking smile appeared on Alvin's lips at the archbishop's explanation. "Those who betray their duty and their people won't find a place in Lordaeron, even if the Kingdom of Stormwind is truly destroyed."

"That's why we're able to meet the future Queen Tiffin Ellerian Wrynn today." The old man winked at the boy. "King Llane is brave, but he's also wise and experienced. These fair-weather friends would be of little use in a fierce war, so they've been sent to 'ask for help' and escort the refugees. This baron is the key figure tasked with keeping them in line."

Archbishop Faol made no attempt to hide his admiration for the King of Stormwind's wisdom, but Alvin could clearly sense a trace of worry beneath it.

"This way, the warriors bleeding on the battlefield will have no concerns at home, while the burden of supplying the front lines is shifted onto the kingdoms of Lordaeron. It's a clever move, but it also means the situation at the front isn't good. The ruler of Stormwind has already begun laying out a path of retreat for his people."

Suddenly, the old man raised his voice. "That's why we must be prepared and root out the kingdom's sources of instability as soon as possible. Only then can we face the enemies coming our way without worrying about threats from behind."

"As for you, Alvin, my disciple..." Archbishop Faol rose, took the prince's hand, and spoke gently. "I'll teach you how to handle the day-to-day matters of state and the combat skills you'll need. Your father has already arranged your future."

"King Terenas intends for you to take charge of the Kingdom of Lordaeron's distant territories on Northrend once you come of age. In the far future, I can imagine you carving out a vast realm of your own, like the great figures of our human history, and establishing a new kingdom for our people."

Night had fallen. The moon, round as a silver plate, hung high in the sky, laying a silver blanket over the still lake and the quiet city beside it.

Since Archbishop Faol had given advance notice, there was no bothersome banquet tonight like there had been at noon, much to Alvin's relief. After dinner with the archbishop, the boy returned alone to the lodgings the mayor had arranged for him.

Several days of travel had left Alvin's already frailer-than-average body utterly exhausted. He sank his aching limbs deep into the soft blankets, savoring the long-missed peace as he thought over what the archbishop had told him.

Northrend was a continent in the north of Azeroth. Because of its geography, most of it was a barren wasteland covered in snow and ice all year round, full of terrifying monsters that ordinary people could scarcely hope to fight. So far, only Howling Fjord, Grizzly Hills, and a few parts of Borean Tundra were suitable for human habitation.

As far as Alvin knew, the Kingdom of Lordaeron had already established territories in parts of Howling Fjord and Grizzly Hills. First, a group of fishermen and sailors, shipwrecked while fishing in distant waters, had discovered the continent. Later, the human kingdoms of Lordaeron had turned it into the ideal place to exile criminals.

After more than a century of darkness and chaos, the humans struggling to survive in Northrend had finally found salvation. The priests who followed the Holy Light brought them new knowledge and faith, and most of them became subjects of the Kingdom of Lordaeron.

Every summer, when the frozen sea and land began to thaw, the fleet of the Kingdom of Lordaeron sailed north to buy the furs and rare minerals that local residents had spent the year stockpiling, all at bargain prices. The journey from Stratholme in northern Lordaeron to Northrend and back took more than four months, but the staggering profits drew countless people there.

In earlier days, the route had also seen small-time merchants hoping to strike it lucky. But with the rise of the North Sea Pirates, the golden sea route had gradually come to be used only by the fleets of the Kingdom of Lordaeron and the Kingdom of Kul Tiras, along with maritime trading companies formed independently by a few great nobles.

In that respect, this rich land, still largely undeveloped, could be considered a treasure hidden inside a stone. But for Alvin, who carried memories of his previous life, the guardians of that treasure were enemies no ordinary person could ever overcome—

The fierce and battle-hardened Ice Trolls, even more savage and ruthless than their man-eating kin; the descendants of Ursoc, the ancient great bear demigod—strong, towering bear-people who lived in Grizzly Hills; the Vrykul, ancestors of humankind, afflicted by the Curse of Flesh; and the Dragons, blessed by the Titans and standing almost at the pinnacle of the world.

Besides them, there was the Scourge under the command of the first Lich King, Ner'zhul. They would utterly destroy human civilization in Northrend. Alvin had no intention of joining the Scourge before Arthas did...