The Fastherin Invitation

Creak!

The heavy door slowly swung open, its rusted edges scraping against the floor with a sharp, piercing squeal.

But the sound did nothing to disturb the hunched figure bent over his desk, writing furiously.

As Lanlos opened the door, a chilly evening breeze slipped inside. The candle flame flickered, finally drawing the old man's attention.

"You're back." Carefully setting down his quill, Fergus scratched his unruly gray-white beard and slowly rose to his feet.

Thousands of years ago, after being driven away by their elven kin and forced to leave the Well of Eternity, the Quel'dorei gradually lost the blessing of immortality. Illness, aging, and all the troubles ordinary humans faced came to plague them.

Even so, elves enjoyed a much longer youth than humans. Only when they truly reached the end of their lives did the Quel'dorei become hunched and frail like Fergus.

Of course, when Lanlos had first met Fergus six months ago, he'd wondered if the old man might be one of those "white-bearded grandpas" people were always talking about.

As it turned out, he was just an ordinary old man—a village elder in his twilight years.

After closing the door behind him, Lanlos gave a slight nod in greeting. He was about to use his cane to make his way to his room when his eyes caught the ink marks glinting on the desk. "Is that a notice? Where did it come from?"

Golden Branch Village was a small place, largely self-sufficient in its daily needs. It didn't need supplies from the outside world, nor could it produce enough to export goods. As a result, the village had been all but forgotten. The last time a notice had been issued was the day Lanlos was rescued.

This time, though, it was clearly far more important.

"Silvermoon City." Fergus sighed softly, deep worry appearing on his deeply lined face.

Lanlos raised an eyebrow. He had the odd feeling that the air had grown oppressive.

"The Forest Trolls seem to have stepped up their attacks lately." Fergus opened a drawer and rummaged through it at an unhurried pace. "We haven't heard from several scout teams on the front lines in weeks, and the border defenses are becoming increasingly uncertain..."

"However rampant those trolls get, they can't possibly threaten our village, can they?" Lanlos's words were somewhat pessimistic, but there was no denying he was right.

Golden Branch Village lay in the heart of Eversong Woods. To the north stood the heavily guarded Sunsail Harbor, and south of the Erendal River was the large settlement of Golden Mist Village, serving as a watchpost. The Forest Trolls couldn't possibly land on Golden Beach to the west, unless they wanted to be blasted to pieces by the High Elf fleet. As for the east, the valleys were shrouded in fog year-round, and the nature spirits that roamed there showed no mercy to anyone who disturbed them.

Just as Lanlos had said, the idea that the trolls might threaten Golden Branch Village was laughable...

Fergus's cloudy eyes settled on Lanlos. The caution in his gaze wiped the smile from the younger man's face.

"Never underestimate those cruel monsters. If King Anasterian hadn't set aside his pride and allied with the human empire of Arathor back then..." Fergus seemed to recall some painful memories. He paused, then silently shook his head, abruptly ending the subject. "In any case, I've been around long enough to know. I strongly advise you never to underestimate those trolls."

"Understood." Lanlos nodded, his expression solemn.

In truth, he understood the trolls' strength even better than Fergus did—whether they were Amani, Drakkari, Gurubashi, or Zandalari.

He knew as much about these creatures as the old elf, who had lived for thousands of years, if not more.

That said, he still didn't believe the Forest Trolls of Zul'Aman would travel thousands of miles to attack a village with no strategic value. As far as he knew, the root cause of the war between the High Elves and the trolls was that Silvermoon City had been built on a nexus of magical energy. And, as luck would have it, that very nexus sat atop the ancestral ruins of the Amani Trolls.

Over the past several thousand years, the Quel'dorei and the Forest Trolls had fought countless wars. There could only ever be one side left standing; reconciliation was impossible. The original reason for the conflict no longer mattered.

So, to put it bluntly, what the trolls wanted wasn't something a village like Golden Branch could provide.

"Ah, found it!" Fergus's exclamation pulled Lanlos from his thoughts. He immediately focused on the item in the old man's hand.

Fergus held a rolled-up letter. Its exquisite wax seal glimmered faintly gold, depicting a phoenix with its head held high and wings spread wide.

"What's that?"

"An invitation from Fastherin Academy." Fergus's wrinkled face broke into a kindly smile, but his seemingly casual answer made Lanlos's eyes widen.

Fastherin Academy stood on Sunstrider Isle, a small island northwest of Silvermoon City. Its only connection to the outside world was a bridge spanning the sea and leading straight to the city.

The academy was closely tied to the Sunstrider Court, which ruled all of Silvermoon City. And putting aside the academy's name, Dath'Remar, the first leader of the Quel'dorei, was buried on the island.

Fastherin Academy's purpose was to train gifted magic apprentices and scholars for the Court. To make a somewhat imperfect comparison, it was a royal military academy.

Of course, none of that was why Lanlos was surprised. After all, this was also the birthplace of the Blood Elves in the game.

When Lanlos stared blankly without responding, Fergus cleared his throat, bringing him back to his senses.

Lanlos bowed apologetically, then pushed the invitation back. "Old man, I know the war is getting intense, but surely they don't need someone like me—a disabled man who can barely get around—to enlist?"

His smile was self-deprecating, and full of helplessness.

"You're half right." Fergus knew exactly why. He glanced quickly at Lanlos's right leg. "This does have something to do with the front lines."

"But they're not asking you to become an apprentice. I'm not that heartless." Fergus scratched his gray-white beard, then straightened his back, looking so pleased with himself that he seemed to be waiting for praise. "They're inviting you to be an assistant instructor."

???

"An assistant instructor? Me?!"

"What's that look for?" Instead of the admiration he'd expected, Fergus got a disbelieving, incredulous stare from Lanlos. Embarrassed, he quickly put on a stern face. "I had to call in a lot of favors to get you this position, you little rascal. You can doubt me, but you absolutely cannot refuse!"

With that, Fergus shoved the invitation into his hand.

"But..." Apart from his days as a student, Lanlos had never had anything to do with teaching. And teaching a bunch of elves, no less? It was utterly absurd!

"Don't worry, it's only an assistant instructor position." Fergus gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "The job isn't as hard as you think."

Seeing that Lanlos still wanted to say something, the old man spoke again, leaving him no choice but to swallow his words. "Believe in yourself. You may be young, but I've seen what you can do."

"Your enthusiasm for learning is greater than any Quel'dorei I've ever met. In just over half a year, you've practically read every book in my collection."

"When it comes to Azeroth's history, geography, and peoples, you know even more than this old man who's lived for over three thousand years... I have to admit, I'm impressed. I can't even imagine how you learned all that." Fergus shook his head with a self-mocking smile, then continued. "And it's clear you have an extraordinary thirst for knowledge of the Arcane, along with a real talent for it."

"I'm no spellcaster, so I can't give you what you need. But Fastherin can."

"It offers the most comprehensive education available. Whether you want to become a politician or a spellcaster, Fastherin can help you achieve your dream."

"And..." Fergus's gaze dropped to Lanlos's right leg. "The Priests there may know enough to treat your leg."

"I..." Fergus's hoarse voice made Lanlos's heart tremble, as if something had seized it. For a moment, he couldn't speak.

A flicker of reluctance passed through Fergus's eyes, but he quickly put on a carefree expression. "All right, don't look at me like that. This is supposed to be a happy occasion. Why make it so sad?"

He waved a hand and turned, slowly making his way up the stairs. "Don't forget, there's a cargo ship leaving Sunsail Harbor for Sunstrider Isle at noon in four days. I booked you a place, so don't be late."

As he watched Fergus disappear from sight, Lanlos thought of the director of the orphanage where he'd grown up—just as old, just as hunched, and just as lonely...

Rumor had it that Fergus's partner had been a ranger who'd died in the war against the trolls years ago. To honor his beloved, Fergus had remained alone for nearly a thousand years.

Now he didn't have much time left, yet he still had no children of his own. But he wasn't heartless. He still longed for family, and over the past six months, Lanlos had come to understand that very well.

Fergus had never said so outright, but clearly, he treated Lanlos like his own child.

For Lanlos, that feeling was a warm one...

Clutching the invitation tightly, Lanlos's lips curved upward. Even his steps as he climbed the stairs seemed lighter.

The dawn light crept in through the window and gently brushed Lanlos's pale face. The sheen of sweat on his forehead gleamed startlingly bright.

As if sensing something, the young elf abruptly opened his eyes. His blue gaze was filled with terror and pain. It lasted only an instant, but it was still enough to horrify anyone who saw it.

What could make someone look so terrified?

After several deep breaths, his chest stopped heaving. The boy shakily sat upright and stared blankly out the window. Under the sunlight, everything was bathed in brilliant gold, dreamlike and unreal.

But Lanlos wasn't in the mood to admire the view.

Nightmares plagued him almost every night: the Soul Eater's cruel grin, demons shrieking across the mountains, the Spider Queen's blood-red eyes watching him...

Everything that had happened on Mardum lingered in his dreams like scenes in a film.

Thankfully, it had only been a dream.