New Friends

"I hope my sisters can grow up with me and get married alongside me. This gold coin looks quite old." — Sylvanas Windrunner's coin

Dalaran had a magical wishing well whose origins were impossible to trace. It seemed to have been there since the year Dalaran was founded. The well possessed mysterious magic: all a person had to do was clear their mind, hold a coin, and stand at the edge of the pool. The coin would automatically be engraved with the true wish in their heart.

Over the years, no matter how Dalaran's layout changed, the strange wishing well remained just as it was. Even if the mages filled it in, the next day it would reappear in some corner of Dalaran.

Countless exceptionally talented mages had tried to uncover the secrets of the little pool, but every one of them had returned disappointed. No one knew when the wishing well had come into existence or what kind of magic it possessed, just as no one knew where all the coins tossed in by thousands of people had gone—

No matter how many people tossed their coins into the wishing well, only a thin layer of coins ever covered the bottom. The water never overflowed, not even by the slightest amount.

After countless studies and experiments, the mages of Dalaran finally gave up on the little pool and stopped wasting their time on it. A mage's time was limited. They weren't long-lived High Elves, who could afford to waste their lives on something so trivial.

But from then on, a legend began to spread among the people of Dalaran: the city's wishing well possessed extraordinary magic and could help those who truly wished for something to make their dreams come true. However, each person could only toss in one coin in their entire life. Otherwise, misfortune would befall them.

Today, the strange little pool welcomed several unusual visitors.

The blonde girl bounced along in front, turning back to call to her companions, "This is the most mysterious wishing well in Dalaran. Every wish can come true!"

After spending half a day together, Jaina had already hit it off with the two princes. Arthas especially enjoyed her company. Having a younger brother who spent all day buried in books and never wanted to play, the prince was thrilled to meet a playmate his own age for the first time. In no time at all, the little blonde girl had become his friend.

"Is it really that magical?"

Curiosity shone in Arthas's eyes as he looked at his new friend with some doubt. Because of his age, young Arthas was still learning all the things a king ought to know. He hadn't yet begun studying the arcane.

"Of course! It's the most mysterious place in Dalaran!" The little girl lifted her chin high, as proud as a peacock displaying its feathers, clearly delighted to be from Dalaran.

In the few memories Alvin had left, he recalled that Dalaran, rebuilt on the southern shore of Lake Lordamere, also had a wishing well full of coins. Somehow, the well had survived the powerful magic with which Archimonde destroyed Dalaran.

But he remembered that the well didn't seem very reliable. He had once read a post about the coins in the wishing well, and not many people had actually gotten their wishes in the end. Thinking of this, he looked up at the proud Jaina and asked skeptically, "So, has your wish come true?"

"Uh..."

Jaina was at a loss for words under Alvin's questioning. But she wasn't about to back down in front of her new friends, so she quickly turned to Kel'Thuzad for help. "I haven't thought of a wish yet, but Uncle Kel'Thuzad must have tried it before, right?"

"What?"

The young mage, whose thoughts had been somewhere far away, was clearly on a different wavelength from the three children. One moment he had been thinking about how to improve his recent spell experiments; the next, the little girl had dragged him back to reality. Kel'Thuzad seemed rather slow to respond.

"Uncle Kel'Thuzad must have tossed a coin into the wishing well, right? Did it work?"

Jaina quickly repeated what she had just said, then gazed up at the young mage with bright, hopeful eyes. She clearly wanted him to take her side and give an affirmative answer.

Unfortunately, the mage had no idea what it meant to spare someone's feelings, and he dashed the girl's hopes.

"No, I've never tried it. Instead of believing in an illusory wishing well, we mages should have faith in the truth we hold in our own hands." Without the slightest hesitation, he shook his head. His answer was plain and direct, and carried a faintly instructive tone.

"You're... so stupid!"

Embarrassed in front of her new friends, the little girl felt her face grow hot. Her cheeks flushed red as she stamped her foot and hurried toward the wishing well nearby, unwilling to stay another moment in this wretched place.

Behind her, Arthas grabbed the unmoved Alvin and hurried after her, calling as he ran, "Jaina, don't run! I believe you!"

"Really?"

The little girl stopped and turned to stare at the prince as he caught up with her. Her voice wavered, and she looked as though she would burst into tears if he dared lie to her.

Under Jaina's unwavering gaze, Arthas—who had no resistance to the little girl's charms—nervously let go of Alvin, who was panting beside him. He thumped his chest and boldly declared, "I'm Arthas, the future king of Lordaeron. I never lie—"

"If you really believe me, then try it!" Before Arthas could finish, the little girl rolled her eyes and held out her right hand. A gleaming gold coin rested in her soft, pale palm.

"Then I'll try it! A man of the Menethil family is never afraid of a challenge!"

Though he said this, Arthas took the coin from the girl, then pulled a shiny gold coin from his coat pocket and tossed it to his younger brother. "Alvin, let's do it together!"

As the saying went, brothers fought best side by side. Alvin couldn't think of any reason to turn down his older brother's request.

"Sure." The boy took the coin and nodded, then followed Arthas to the edge of the wishing well. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind of all distractions. Before he knew it, he seemed to have fallen into a vision—

In his mind, young Arthas slowly grew up, becoming a glorious Paladin and joining the Order of the Silver Hand. He distinguished himself in the defense of Strahnbrad, investigated the plague ravaging northern Lordaeron, gave the order to slaughter Stratholme, drew Frostmourne from a cave in Northrend, and at last, in the royal palace of Lordaeron, plunged his sword into Terenas—and himself.

Just as the blade was about to pierce his chest, the boy jolted awake from the vision, cold sweat covering his back and forehead.