Three Youngsters

Thousands of years ago, Prince Azar sealed himself away, and in doing so, he also sealed the social conflicts of the entire Kaldorei society. Through the propaganda of those with ulterior motives, more and more people came to understand Prince Azar's painstaking efforts, and slowly, everything returned to peace.

Ashenvale, a land situated west of Desolace and north of Feralas, should not be judged by its name; it is, in truth, a green ocean. If Feralas is a forest composed of vast, contiguous giant trees, this place is defined by individual trees that grow to the size of forests. Sunlight pierces through the gaps in the branches, weaving with the moisture to reveal a kaleidoscope of colors—breathtaking and dazzling to the eye. This is a paradise for animals; the rich variety and vast numbers of plants attract a multitude of herbivores to thrive and multiply on this land, who in turn become food for the carnivores. Cycle after cycle, life continues endlessly; such is the way of nature. The Night Elf people set foot on this land long ago, and gradually, more and more Night Elves arrived, settling down to enjoy the blessings of nature. They are gentle in temperament, fond of a tranquil life, and live in harmony with the natural world. They stand at the very top of the food chain, and they have also taken on the responsibility of protecting it. However, they did not know that their actions had already entered the sights of those with ulterior motives. Cenarius, the Lord of the Forest, had been observing them for a long time, and he grew fond of this group of nature-loving new neighbors. Thus, he appeared before them. The Kaldorei had never seen such a creature before: he was tall and robust, his upper body resembling their own, while his lower body was that of a stag. His eyes shone with a golden light, and atop his head sat two massive antlers. Most interesting of all were his beard and hair, which were actually overgrown with leaves and tender twigs. They were not afraid, but instead communicated politely with their neighbor. The longer they spent together, the more they understood. He was Cenarius, son of the demigod Malorne; he guarded this forest and was the Lord of the Forest here. He, too, grew fond of them—fond of their gentle character, their honest virtues, and their belief in the equality of all things, which earned his deep praise. Cenarius began to spread his Druid path to the Kaldorei. It took him a long time to get his neighbors to accept his Druid path, and even longer to cultivate followers. Later, he successfully took on his first disciple—Malfurion. The wise Cenarius patiently guided his disciple to commit himself to the embrace of nature, and he succeeded. Malfurion was the first mortal Druid; he studied exceptionally well and was granted free access to Mount Hyjal, the dwelling place of the demigods.

Malfurion's success made Cenarius very happy, and the achievements Malfurion attained left him highly satisfied. After discovering Malfurion's unique potential in the Emerald Dream, Cenarius felt more and more that he would inherit his mantle. Thus, they traveled together to spread the Druid path among the Kaldorei. They had some success in Feralas, but in Zin-Azshari, they made little headway. Cenarius returned to the Emerald Dream, while Malfurion remained in Zin-Azshari to continue spreading the Druid path. Why stay in Zin-Azshari? The reason was simple: he had met a girl named Tyrande, a priestess of the Temple of the Moon. Rumor had it that she was the first mortal in thousands of years to make Elune reveal her true form. Dianna, the leader of the Temple of the Moon, had already designated her as the next High Priestess and kept her by her side to teach her personally. As for what happens between a man and a woman, one could figure that out with their eyes closed. But there was a problem now, and that was Malfurion's younger brother, Illidan. The story is an old cliché: a brother and his sibling fall in love with the same person. Although it is cliché, it keeps appearing, which makes it worth pondering, even here in Azeroth.

On the outskirts of Zin-Azshari, by a small lake, two male elves were talking. One was tall and heroic, standing there as he spoke, while the other, handsome and dashing, sat on an exposed tree root, carelessly tossing small stones into the lake.

"Why are you always like this? I've told you many times, the teacher thinks highly of you and has always said your talent is outstanding. Why can't you just put your heart into it?" Malfurion began lecturing his brother again.

"It's not my fault. The door is closed, and I can't get in." The handsome young man looked irritable and argued back.

It sounded so reasonable that I was left speechless. Why does this feel like a conversation between a rebellious child and his father?

"You must be devout! As long as you possess a devout Druid heart, the gates of the Emerald Dream will open for you at any time." The older brother still hadn't given up, speaking with earnest sincerity.

"Forget it, my brother. The power of the Druid path is too weak. I don't think it suits me. I am a man destined to become a powerhouse, just like the former King Azar!" The young man's face was filled with longing.

"He is a hero in everyone's heart, but brother, if you keep drifting like this, you will never reach that height." It was clear that the older brother also admired Azar.

Illidan lowered his head and said nothing. Malfurion looked at his brother, lost in thought, and thinking he had made a breakthrough, he decided to try a little harder. He placed his hands on Illidan's shoulders and said earnestly, "Illidan, choose the Druid path. It is the one most suited to you."

"Malfurion, I want to be a mage. I feel that being a mage suits me better," Illidan said with a firm tone.

"Why?" Although dissatisfied with his brother's answer, Malfurion still asked with forced patience.

"Because it's strong," Illidan said without hesitation. His thinking was always so simple and impulsive, and his answer was even more frustrating.

"Fine, I respect your choice." Malfurion looked disappointed; there was nothing he could do but let him be.

"What are you two talking about?"

Just as the situation grew awkward, a crisp female voice drifted over. "Tyrande!" Both brothers felt a jolt and turned their heads simultaneously. A very beautiful girl, her face brimming with a sweet, spring-like smile, walked toward the two brothers with a light and elegant gait.

"Tyrande, why are you here?"

Before she even got close, Illidan hurriedly stood up and asked the girl excitedly. At this moment, his face was full of joy, and his eyes followed the girl's every movement; it was clear he was very fond of her. The older brother's expression didn't show much change, but his relaxed brow betrayed his inner feelings. Tyrande walked up to them, looked at the younger brother first, then turned to look at the older one. Malfurion understood the look in Tyrande's eyes and quickly said, "I was just trying to persuade him to study the Druid path seriously. Who knew he had already set his heart on being a mage?"

"Mages are great. We should support Illidan, shouldn't we?" Tyrande's tone was full of encouragement.

"You... you really think so? You think my... my choice is right?" Illidan was even more agitated, his speech becoming somewhat incoherent.

"I'm serious, Illidan. Her Majesty the Queen is a mage, and there are legendary mages like Saruman and Gandalf. They are all very powerful mages; it is said they are already approaching immortality," the young girl replied solemnly.

"I knew it! I knew you would support me. I will become a great mage! Believe in me, Tyrande, I swear it!" Illidan shouted loudly. Why is every boy such a lovesick fool in front of the girl he loves?

"I believe in you, Illidan. You will definitely succeed," Tyrande continued to cheer him on.

"Tyrande, you don't understand. The teacher said Illidan's talent for the Druid path is even higher than mine, but he hasn't learned as well as I have. The key to the problem is whether he can study diligently, not which profession he chooses," Malfurion maintained his serious expression.

That was stepping on a cat's tail. You're done for, Malfurion. How could you say his attitude was the problem in front of Tyrande? Isn't that a blatant slap in the face? It's equivalent to telling Tyrande that he's a bad kid and she shouldn't play with him. Sure enough, hearing his brother say this, Illidan immediately bristled.

"You're always 'the teacher says this, the teacher says that.' You're always criticizing me for this and that. I've had enough! You say I'm not good enough, right? Fine, I'll show you!" He roared like an angry lion.

"Calm down, Illidan. Your brother means well. No profession can be mastered easily," Tyrande hurriedly intervened to persuade him.

"Yes, he means well, you all mean well, and I'm just the one who's no good, is that it?" Illidan yelled angrily, turned around, and ran off.

Everything happened so suddenly that neither of them reacted in time. They exchanged a bitter smile and then chased after Illidan together.

Not long after they left, two people emerged from behind another large tree. One of them asked, "Who do you think she likes?"

"It's obvious. She likes the mature and steady older brother."

"Oh? Give me your reasons. Is it because you think he's like you? Do girls like you stiff types?"

"That's not it. Didn't you notice the girl was coaxing him just like she was teaching a disobedient younger brother?"

"Hmm, I suppose you have a point. Does he have no chance at all?"

Why do people always choose to sympathize with the loser?

"Who knows," the person asked replied with a huff.

"Why does it feel like you two are the ones in love?" A voice came from the branches above.

"Maiev, that joke isn't funny at all!" one of them looked up and shouted at her.

That was Daphne's voice, and the other must be Falco; there was no need to guess.

"Alright, everyone is here. Let's go."