Ironforge was fairly prosperous. Along the way, Rex saw quite a few human merchants who had previously lived there moving through the city.
With a dwarf leading the way, Rex met Kael'thas in Ironforge. The dwarves had provided Kael'thas with accommodations befitting his station, which was no longer what it had once been. Previously, Kael'thas had been a prince. Though noble, he had not yet ruled over his people. Now things were different. His coronation had already taken place; the moment he returned home, he had been acclaimed as the king of Quel'Thalas.
Silvermoon City had not fallen, and the high elves had not been reduced to the miserable state they had suffered in history. Their aura of pride had faded considerably, but it had not vanished. Silvermoon City remained closed to other races.
The coronation should have been a grand affair, yet in the end, even Rex had received no invitation. He could hardly blame them. Every race had its own customs. If theirs did not call for inviting guests from far and wide, he could not force them to do so.
Disasters and setbacks could easily make people mature. Countless great catastrophes were bound to give rise to waves of exceptional figures. That was what it meant for heroes to emerge in troubled times.
It had been a while since Rex last saw Kael'thas, and the magical aura surrounding him had grown denser, with mysterious energy flickering around his body. Kael'thas had broken through as well, reaching mid-hero. In light of that, Rex had Rachel to thank. Had Rachel not burned Rex's life force at the very end, giving him the final push to reach mid-hero himself, he would truly have held no advantage in this turbulent age.
None of these heroes whose names had survived in history