The morning sunlight always felt so pleasant. The sun slowly climbed above the horizon, revealing her beautiful face, a pale red tinged with gold, like a perfectly ripe Akshi that made you want to take a bite. A gentle breeze brushing your face alongside her would make it all the better. On the balcony, a long shadow stretched all the way to the bedroom. Azar stood there, bathing in the morning sun and breeze. It was a rare moment of relaxation for him. He glanced back at his wife in bed, feeling utterly content. They had shared a wild night, the best reward for a couple who had spent decades apart more often than together. His wife was still asleep, looking so peaceful, the faintest smile at the corners of her mouth. Perhaps last night had left her exhausted; after all, a mage's body couldn't compare to a warrior's. When Azar finished a set of Five Animal Frolics and looked toward the bed again, he saw that Azshara had sat up and was leaning against the headboard, watching him. She seemed to have been in that position for a while.
"When did you wake up? Did you sleep well?"
"When you started practicing. The fluctuations in your energy woke me. Darling, you're still as wonderful as ever!" She chuckled softly in reply, happiness written all over her face.
"Honestly, let's have a child. I've realized that although our lives are incredibly long, the power of the Arcane still has some negative effects on our bodies. Childbearing, for instance." He walked slowly over to Azshara and gently lifted his wife into his arms.
"Sure. Then stay a little longer this time, until I'm pregnant." Azshara replied playfully.
"Yes, I'll stay longer this time. We can make up for lost time. How about now?" Azar had always been a man of action. As soon as he finished speaking, the bedroom was once again filled with scenes unsuitable for children.
A hundred years felt like only a few years to the Elves of today. At last, the power of the Arcane had allowed those who worshipped it to experience strength beyond compare. The Trolls of old had become Elves: beautiful and graceful, devoted to luxury. Their buildings were grand and ornate, their clothes brightly colored, loose yet finely made, and their hearts had grown immensely proud and confident. The Arcane had shown them a power great enough to reshape the world. They began to grow restless, eager to put their lofty ambitions into action. Yes, they would conquer all of Kalidom. Over the past century, under the leadership of their great and far-sighted first king, Jabani, their nation had grown rapidly stronger, and the use of the Arcane had become more refined. As the population increased, mages capable of sensing the power of the Arcane sprang up like bamboo shoots after rain. They had a Mage Legion that was unrivaled across Kalidom. Their close-combat forces had also improved rapidly under Azar's training. They had a full complement of troops, each branch complementing the others. In melee, they had Warriors skilled in wielding rage. Their fighting never ceased, and neither did their rage; they were perpetual-motion machines on the battlefield. At Azar's special insistence, every Warrior also had to learn to sense the Power of Order, using it to temper rage's effects on their bodies. They were also the most disciplined troops on the battlefield. Then there were the ranged physical attackers, the Elf Hunters. Natural marksmen, they had extraordinary vision and long, strong arms. Watching them shoot was like admiring a beautiful painting. They also wielded a measure of Arcane power, and their signature skill, Arcane Shot, always dealt a deadly blow to their enemies. With only these forces, they might not have been the strongest army. If others had more soldiers or more powerful fighters, they could still be defeated. What truly gave them an unshakable belief in victory was their Mage Legion. These mages were beyond compare, and now they showed the full greatness of the Arcane. Each one had a ranged attack with a reach no less than an Elf Hunter's, and even greater destructive power. Their Fireball could make a sheep's body explode. Frostbolt dealt less damage, but slowed those it struck, creating better opportunities for their melee fighters to attack. Then there were Arcane Missiles, just like the Katyusha rockets of Earth's era: they bombarded their targets without pause. You might dodge the first two or three, but the fourth, fifth, and sixth were much harder to evade. And that wasn't even counting the newly developed summoning spells. Summon Water Elemental meant gaining another fighter out of thin air. More advanced mages had even stronger single-target combat skills, which need not be detailed here. Most importantly, mages could combine their spells to unleash attacks on a massive scale, wiping out everything in an area with a single strike. Truly terrifying. A century of growth, a century of war. King Jabani constantly started small conflicts, all to test the mages' newly developed spells and improve coordination among the different branches of the army. As a Highlord who had lived through an age of chaos, he understood all too well that those with the strongest fists had the loudest voices. They trained both soldiers and generals, and over the years, the kingdom produced many outstanding commanders. The most famous were Falco and Daphne, both from Azar's faction. He was steady and composed; she was meticulous. His command was as steadfast as a mountain; hers was swift as fire. He was the kingdom's shield, and she was the Elves' spear. Yet Azar always told them, "You still have to become even better if you're to face the challenges ahead." The Well of Eternity, the kingdom's treasure, had granted the Elves long lives and great power, but it had also caused them a few minor problems. Their fertility had changed: conceiving had become more difficult, and pregnancy lasted longer. Perhaps that was the only thing holding the Elven king back from launching a war. So Azar kept waiting, waiting for the day an opportunity would arrive.
But lately, things had changed. The people at the top could clearly sense that the king was no longer himself, especially his temper. He had become irritable and quick to anger, often punishing servants over trivial matters. Recently, there had even been talk that he intended to issue a kingdom-wide mobilization order. Who were they going to fight? Were there any enemies left around them? The Centaurs and Quillboar were busy fighting among themselves in the Barrens. The Trolls west of Feralas? They were just an excuse for Azar to train his new recruits while asking the kingdom for supplies. Could he be planning to wage war on the four great tribes? Well, why not? They were Night Elves now! They had an invincible Mage Legion! Let the war begin!
"Is something wrong with His Majesty's health?" On a dark night, in the silent forest, Azar asked the black-clad figure before him.
"No, my lord."
"Has he done anything unusual?"
"Yes. He's summoned many priests, one after another."
"Understood. Be careful. If anything seems wrong, your life comes first. Understood?"
"Thank you, my lord. I'll take my leave."
"You heard that? How are things on your end?"
"My dear uncle, my own dear uncle, couldn't you find me somewhere else?" a girl's voice complained. It was Maiev.
"Get to the point. Don't mess around."
"The High Priest has been very calm lately, but several Centurions in the Sentinel forces have been acting strangely."
"Understood. Stay at the Temple of the Moon, and don't expand your influence for now. Clean up your existing forces and make sure they're loyal. Got it?"
"Sure, sure, I know what I'm doing. I'm off. You should hurry back and make a baby, too. I can't wait to meet my little nephew." Before she finished speaking, she had already disappeared. Azar was left with no one to lecture.
In the bedroom, Azar was holding his beloved wife in bed. It was obvious they had just been making a baby.
"Darling, what do you think our great king is really up to?"
"I don't know, but one thing is certain: it's not what the recent rumors claim. He isn't about to wage war on one of the great tribes. If that were the case, why wouldn't he summon you first? Why worry about all that? Our priority now is to have a child." Azshara said lazily. Ever since they decided to have a baby, she seemed to have lost interest in everything else. All she wanted was to wring the life out of poor Azar. She was determined not to stop until she got pregnant! Women's thinking was always so hard for men to understand. Hadn't she noticed the danger? Or did she have faith in her and her husband's strength? It was baffling. It seemed the only answer was for the man to work a little harder. A man had to take responsibility for his family, didn't he?
After satisfying his wife once more, Azar went out alone and sat on the terrace. A quiet night was perfect for thinking, and the recent situation was so strange that he needed to sort it all out. The king had changed temperament for no apparent reason. The Temple of the Moon seemed calm on the surface. The High Priest had summoned the Sentinel Centurions, and the king had summoned priests. There was too little information to judge what was going on. Could Azshara be right this time? Wait and see instead of making a move? Still, he needed to make the necessary preparations.
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