The Magic Kingdom of Dalaran

Taelan Fordring gripped the Blessing of Tirion Fordring scripture and asked, "Father, tell me about the Orcs!"

Tirion Fordring leaned against the ship's railing, eyes narrowed as the setting sun bathed his face in a golden glow. A look of reminiscence crossed his features: "The Orcs came from a world called Draenor. They were incredibly tall and strong; it took two or three Alliance warriors to contend with a single Orc warrior. Their spellcasters, known as Warlocks, wielded wicked magic beyond our comprehension—a power the mages call Fel. The Orcs fought with terrifying madness. The Paladin order was founded by my mentor, Archbishop Faol, specifically to stand against them."

"In truth, our victory was a stroke of luck. When the Orcs besieged Lordaeron City, our defenses were crumbling, yet their Warlocks suddenly vanished from the battlefield. Only after the war ended did we learn from prisoners that the Warlock King, Gul'dan, had betrayed his kin. He took his Stormreaver Clan to seek divine relics. Without their casters, the Orc Warchief, Orgrim, lost his final chance to defeat us. In the decisive battle at the Burning Steppes, the great warrior and last bloodline of Thoradin, Marshal Anduin Lothar, sacrificed himself! Turalyon took up his mantle, and we finally overcame the Orcs."

Taelan Fordring seized the moment: "So, the Orcs were invaders from another world! Does that make them all evil?"

Tirion Fordring replied, "Child, race does not define honor. We cannot make rash judgments about individuals."

Taelan Fordring pondered this before saying, "Father, I believe honor transcends race, but a hero belongs to his nation and his people! To the world of Azeroth, the Orcs were invaders from another world. They slaughtered our people, seized our lands, and burned our cities! In the Stormwind Kingdom alone, millions died by their hands! They massacred countless unarmed civilians! Though I do not know why they invaded Azeroth, I know that the world's resources are finite. By seizing our living space, they became our enemies!"

"I would never harm an unarmed person, but I will never allow these invaders to slaughter our people!"

Tirion Fordring paused, stunned. Clearly, he had never considered the war from the perspective of two worlds, nor had he viewed the Second War as a struggle for survival against the depletion of Azeroth's resources. All he had seen and experienced was the agony and carnage of war. He asked, "Taelan, who taught you these things?"

"No one. I have been reading in your study these past few days, and I came across accounts of the Battle of Stormwind. Yesterday, when we fought the Gentleman, was that not similar to our war with the Orcs? The boar was a 'gentleman,' but that did not stop it from killing poor Lena or ruining Aunt Janice's crops. If not for that beast, perhaps I could have played with Lena yesterday. She would have grown up to be a warrior, a mage, or a farmer! She could have been a wife, a mother—but the Gentleman ate her, and now there is nothing left."

At this, Taelan Fordring's mood darkened. He lifted his small face to gaze at the shimmering surface of Lake Lordamere and continued:

"If we had arrived at Felstone sooner, or if the sheriff had pursued it relentlessly, little Lena would not have died, and Fingal's love would not have ended before it began. If I had not killed the Gentleman—or if I had spared it simply because it was a 'gentleman' among boars, clever and brave—then perhaps, in a few years, more Lenas would die because of my choice."

"One man's hero is another's enemy! This has nothing to do with justice or honor! In a war between two worlds, as long as one does not abandon their humanity, there is only victory, defeat, and the necessity of choice!"

Tirion Fordring remained silent for a long time, then a proud smile broke across his face: "Son! You are truly my pride! To view a matter from such a height is truly remarkable!"

"I must tell Mograine about this. I have always felt his way of raising his son was too harsh, too rigid! In two years, once your martial skills have improved, I will beg my mentor, Archbishop Faol, to perform your baptism! You shall become a novice Paladin early! Then I can retire, go home to be with your mother, farm the land, and tend to the flowers!"

Tirion was not Mograine, nor was he Uther; his open-mindedness and magnanimity were beyond theirs. Taelan Fordring's words were a seed planted for the future! He hoped to change his father, to enable him to save the comrades and civilians who would otherwise perish due to his future despondency! If only Tirion Fordring had stood up when Kel'Thuzad unleashed the plague, or when the tragedy of Darrowshire unfolded—how much better it would have been!

Time slipped away in the father and son's conversation. The captain approached and gave Tirion Fordring a military salute: "Highlord, we have arrived at Dalaran!" Tirion returned the salute and patted his shoulder: "Old friend, we must head into Dalaran. Be careful on your way back; don't let a Murloc Shaman shock your backside!" The two men burst into laughter.

After bidding the captain farewell, Tirion Fordring remounted his warhorse and led Taelan Fordring into the magical city of Dalaran. Tirion could not help but remark, "The city walls are still as imposing as ever. As high as the pride of the mages themselves!"

Tirion Fordring presented his official Lordaeron credentials to the guards and stepped into Dalaran.

Dalaran was a city, but it was also a nation! In his past life, Taelan had loved this place. It featured landmarks like Krasus' Landing, the Sunreaver Sanctuary, the Monument of Antonidas, the Magical Commercial District, the Violet Citadel, the Silver Enclave, Ruins Square, Dusk Square, and the Violet Hold. Mage towers were everywhere, piercing the clouds and inlaid with magical gems, showcasing the mystery and luxury of the mages.

Of course, there were also the Dalaran Sewers! At this point in time, Krasus' Landing did not yet exist, nor did the Monument of Antonidas, for the Archmage was still alive and well.

Tirion Fordring walked along, introducing the city to his son. They reached their destination, the Violet Citadel, where Tirion met with the gatekeeper, identified himself, and requested an appointment to visit Archmage Antonidas. Afterward, the two headed to the Hero's Welcome Inn near the commercial district, where they decided to stay for the time being.

By evening, Tirion Fordring took Taelan to a restaurant called Magic Honey for dinner. Even at dusk, the commercial district of Dalaran was bustling with a constant stream of people.

There were humans and High Elves—they had not yet renamed themselves Blood Elves. Most were handsome and beautiful, though they possessed an arrogant temperament. Taelan even spotted a Goblin. Tirion reminded him that Goblins were a greedy race; they did business with everyone, and for the sake of gold, they would do anything. Their catchphrase was: "Time is money, my friend!"

After their meal, the two walked along the main road toward the inn, admiring the architecture. The tallest building in Dalaran was the Violet Citadel, surrounded by numerous mage towers. Tirion Fordring pointed to a towering spire and said, "That is the mage tower of Archmage Krasus!"

"He is a mage who has recently risen to fame. It is said he is profoundly learned and very kind to young apprentices and children. That is why so many apprentices wish to become his students! If he is here, we might be able to visit him. I heard from an old friend that in recent years, Dalaran has begun inviting outstanding youths to study here. It is not just magic that one can learn; Occultism is also a required course for any spellcaster!"

"Son, although you are already exceptional, there is no harm in learning more. I hope you receive an invitation! I will help you. When the time comes, you should take Occultism, magical theory, and history—and, of course, etiquette classes are a must!"

Taelan Fordring replied, "I think I am already quite 'polite'!"

Tirion Fordring laughed heartily: "My son, you truly have a dry wit. Are you sure you aren't talking about that super Hammer of Justice of yours? I don't know why, but I feel you are different today. You give off a very warm feeling that makes people want to draw close to you! This must be the power of the Holy Light you have awakened! It reminds me of Turalyon! His Holy Light was also quite unique!"