Brothers

After visiting Dalaran with his father, Arthas couldn't focus on his lessons for days. A single day in the girl's company had been enough for her cheerfulness and charm to leave a deep impression on the prince, who had grown up in the palace.

In a sense, Jaina was the first true friend he'd made among people his own age. As for the others—the genius little brother who made him feel inferior, or the young nobles who were always so careful around him—none of them counted as real friends.

When he was very young, his father, the king of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, had told him that the young nobles who flocked around him would all become his subjects one day. As heir to the throne, he had to be on his guard when dealing with them, and learn to use schemes to control and divide them. So he had never been able to truly relax around those his own age.

As for Alvin, who had been able to use first-circle divine magic at just seven years old, Arthas dearly loved his frail little brother. But Alvin's talent and the praise heaped on him by the adults around them made it difficult for Arthas to suppress his envy—and the first stirrings of jealousy.

He, Arthas, was the first in line to inherit the Kingdom of Lordaeron. He would be its future ruler! But in the young prince's eyes, everyone—from his father to his mother—only had eyes for his genius little brother and ignored him, the older one.

For that reason, Arthas had always treated his little brother with great care, perfectly embodying a loving older brother. Still, he couldn't help feeling a little distant from Alvin. After all, having a universally acknowledged genius for a little brother put a lot of pressure on a boy who was still a child himself.

Then the girl had come into his world. She was nothing like the young nobles who would one day become his "subjects"; he didn't have to be wary of her. And she was nothing like his genius little brother; being with her didn't make him feel under immense pressure. So she was the first true friend Prince Arthas had ever had.

He had still had one understanding little brother to turn to when he felt low, but he had just learned that Alvin was about to accompany Archbishop Alonsus Faol to Stratholme, where he would stay for at least half a year.

His father had only decided on the plan that morning, and Alvin and the archbishop were already set to leave the next day. It seemed a very hasty decision. His father, who usually arranged everything so carefully, must have made it at the last minute.

As the impending separation approached, all the little resentments Arthas had felt toward his brother quickly vanished. If his father hadn't inspired such deep awe in him, the usually proper prince might have gone straight to confront him and demand an explanation for what he was doing to his brother.

That was right: demand an explanation. In young Arthas's mind, his brother must have done something to anger their father, who had flown into a rage and sent Alvin off to Stratholme to suffer. So he decided to go and comfort his little brother a little, showing him what a fine older brother he was.

Unfortunately, the scene he'd imagined—his brother alone in his room, upset—never came to pass. Alvin looked as happy as if he were about to go on an outing. Standing carefully outside the window, the prince watched his brother hum a tune and briskly inspect the bags and bundles the maids had packed for him.

For some reason, looking at Alvin's carefree expression stirred an indescribable feeling in the older brother's heart—

He had completely forgotten that he'd come to comfort his unhappy little brother. Instead, he found himself envying Alvin's carefree nature and the trust their father placed in him. If Arthas had to leave home for so long, surely not only his father but even his ever-loving mother would object.

He was the older brother, but in everyone else's eyes, was there anything he had ever been better at than his little brother, apart from being born first?

Arthas didn't want to think about it. He didn't dare to. How could the future heir to the Kingdom of Lordaeron feel jealous or afraid of his little brother's talents? Such cowardly behavior was unworthy of a man of the Menethil family.

The prince had wanted to show his little brother what a fine older brother he was, but now he slowly backed away from the window and returned to the corridor. He wanted to tell his mother about his worries. Was he really such a useless older brother?

Arthas jogged toward the palace nearby. After passing two groups of guards, he reached his parents' chambers. It was still afternoon, and his father was always busy with state affairs, so his mother should have been the only one inside. But before he could open the door, he heard the muffled sound of his parents arguing.

"Terenas, Alvin is still so young. How can you..."

The queen's voice was sharp, but it softened near the end. The prince thought he heard someone crying inside.

"Alvin is a genius, but Arthas is the future king of Lordaeron. For the sake of Lordaeron's future stability, given Alvin's abilities, I have no choice but to make this decision. Archbishop Faol will teach Alvin how to become a true lord. Once he comes of age..."

Terenas's voice was strong and clear, carrying through the door to the prince's ears. In that moment, Arthas felt as if he'd plunged into icy water. So his brother was being sent to Stratholme not because he'd angered their father, but because I'm the one who's useless?

Arthas slipped away and began to wander aimlessly through the palace. The afternoon sunshine felt warm against his skin, but inside, the prince felt helpless and afraid.

A warm spring breeze swept through the courtyard. The boy curled up as if startled and put a hand into his pocket. His fingers found a coin he'd been keeping safe and hadn't yet returned.

Arthas raised the coin toward the sun. The golden light reflected off it, glaring brightly, but he wasn't distracted. Instead, he read the small words engraved on it: "I hope my brother Arthas will make the right choices and become a kind and wise king."

For some reason, the prince's eyes suddenly grew moist, and sparkling tears welled up.

"Arthas, there you are!"

His older sister, Calia, called from behind him. She had come to help Arthas pack their youngest brother Alvin's things. But she found her usually strong little brother crying by himself.

"Why are you crying?"

At his sister's question, the boy nervously wiped his face and pulled himself together. "It's nothing. The sunlight was too bright."

He was the future king of Lordaeron. He couldn't let down his parents, his sister, or his little brother. Arthas followed his sister back to Alvin's quarters. This time, he felt no envy or jealousy—only the sadness of parting from his brother and love for his family.

Although Alvin had already checked the luggage he'd prepared for the next day, Calia, as his older sister, decided that she, the "grown-up," should check it all over again.

While the girl busied herself nearby, Arthas pulled his little brother into a corner of the room. He placed both hands on Alvin's shoulders, gazed earnestly into his eyes, and declared solemnly, "Alvin, I'll become a good king. I swear!"

Arthas's strange behavior left Alvin a little confused, but he wasn't about to undermine a child's confidence. He met his brother's serious gaze, put on a solemn expression, and nodded. "Of course. I believe you, my brother."

Meanwhile, back in his study, Terenas sat at his desk, his fingers tapping repeatedly on the map spread out before him. It was a map of Azeroth, drawn to a smaller scale, but it showed only the rough outlines of three continents. Kalimdor and Northrend appeared only as slivers at the edges.

After a long while, the king seemed to make up his mind. He picked up the quill beside him and drew a circle around each of the lands of Kalimdor and Northrend.