Windrunner Spire

The Windrunner family's lands lay to the west of the southern forests of Quel'Thalas. Nourished by the Sunwell's magic, the forest had turned golden, looking especially sacred and magnificent. Golden-red leaves rustled in the woodland breeze.

As they rode along the forest road, sunlight filtered through layers of leaves, scattering gentle patches of light that caressed travelers and woodland creatures like a mother's hands.

Elves appeared among the trees from time to time, their villages and estates scattered nearby. In this peaceful forest, one could even hear faint strains of song-beautiful melodies passed down in ancient Thalassian.

Arthas noticed quite a few elven children watching this rather different sort of "person" with curious eyes.

Most of the Quel'dorei were tall and slender, but Arthas stood taller than most elves, and his sturdy physique conveyed greater strength. Combined with his handsome face and exceptional bearing, he drew plenty of attention.

This was thanks to years of training, the nourishment of extraordinary power, and the secret hidden within humanity's bloodline. The humans of this world were no ordinary creatures. In a sense, they were the direct creations of the gods who had shaped the world, only now afflicted by the Old Gods' evil curse.

Yet Arthas felt no aversion to this so-called curse. It might have been one of the few things the Old Gods had done that could count as a blessing for the life of Azeroth.

It was this curse that had given rise to organic life rich in emotion, allowing him to truly feel his own existence.

Perhaps the curse had been intended to weaken the titan gods' original creations, but what the Old Gods had not foreseen was that, under its influence, these seemingly fragile beings of flesh and blood would blossom with emotions the titans' original creations had never possessed.

Without these seemingly useless emotions, Arthas believed Azeroth might never have survived its repeated disasters and catastrophes.

Amid his thoughts, Arthas heard Sylvanas call to him. "Your Highness?"

"I'm listening, my lady."

"There's no need to be so formal. Perhaps the titles we use for each other make us both uncomfortable. We've fought through life and death together, after all." Sylvanas had a very favorable impression of Arthas. "May I call you by your name?"

"Of course, my lady."

"Then, in return, you should call me by mine. If you find it too long, you can call me Sylva."

"Windrun... er, Lady Sylvanas." Arthas felt a little awkward about calling Sylvanas simply Sylva. He knew that name was probably reserved for those close to her.

"It's Sylvanas-or Sylva," Sylvanas corrected him earnestly. "Don't worry. My sisters and close friends all call me that."

"All right, Sylva, if that's what you prefer." Arthas could tell she rather liked the name.

Sylvanas nodded in satisfaction, a smile appearing on her face. The name Sylva brought back memories of when she and her sisters had still been children. They had called her that back then, too.

"Arthas, I rarely associate with humans because, to be honest, I'm not particularly fond of your kind. After all, my older sister, Alleria, was lured away by Turalyon." Sylvanas still held a grudge over that. In her eyes, if her sister had not fallen in love with Turalyon, she would never have entered the Dark Portal and vanished without a trace.

How was Arthas supposed to answer that? Was he supposed to twist the knife by telling her that her younger sister was probably involved with Rhonin, the human mage from Dalaran, by now? That would only invite trouble. He wisely chose not to respond and simply listened quietly.

"But after meeting you, I've started to think there are dependable people among humans after all. Now I understand a little better why Alleria left with Turalyon." Sylvanas looked the handsome young prince over. "Come to think of it, that marshal really does resemble you somewhat. You're both handsome, and you're both paladins."

Arthas sensed danger. Don't lump me in with that Turalyon fellow! I have nothing to do with him. We barely know each other! I was still a child when he lured your sister away!

"Actually, I don't understand why my sister would fall in love with a human. Arthas, you know there's an unbridgeable gulf between humans and elves."

Arthas was, of course, well aware of that. Except for powerful mages, humans lived no more than a hundred years, while to an elf, a century felt little different from a year or two to a human.

Watching one's beloved grow older day by day and finally return to death forever, while remaining young and beautiful oneself, would be unbearable agony for anyone deeply in love.

Thus, although Quel'Thalas had no explicit ban on marriages between elves and humans, almost every elf had heard warnings from their elders. This was also one of the reasons Sylvanas said she would never fall in love with a human.

"Alleria always said I was too slow to understand matters of the heart. But I simply think that rather than waste time indulging in love, I'd be better off practicing one more shot." Sylvanas looked at her smooth fingers. Thanks to her physique, even years of archery had left them free of calluses.

"I don't know what Lady Alleria thinks, but I believe you may be the person best suited to the position of Ranger-General."

Arthas gazed at the road stretching before them. "At the very least, I can tell that you deeply love your people and your country. That's why you spend your days stationed on the border-just to protect this peace and tranquility."

Sylvanas smiled without committing herself. She did indeed deeply love her people and the lands of Quel'Thalas. That was the main reason she had continued her struggle against the Silvermoon Council for so many years. She also did not want those idle mage lords to ruin all the Farstriders her family had trained for Quel'Thalas.

"Arthas, the Windrunner estate is just ahead. I've invited a few subordinates and old friends. Don't worry-this is a fairly private gathering. None of those revolting council lords will be there."

Following Sylvanas's gesture, Arthas saw exquisite, distinctive elven buildings, carefully tended gardens, and, most striking of all, a magnificent tower built against a cliff.

"That must be Windrunner Spire, then?"

"That's right. The view from above is wonderful. Our banquet will be held in the open-air garden on the lower level of Windrunner Spire." Sylvanas began introducing the grounds of her home to Arthas. "Over there is a field of tulips. I think my younger sister had it planted on a whim a little over sixty years ago."

"What an enchanting place. I've rarely seen an estate of this size even in Lordaeron," Arthas could not help remarking. The wealth and heritage of human nobles fell far short of elven families whose legacy stretched back thousands of years. After seeing the Windrunner family's estate, he wanted to build one in Lordaeron himself.

Unfortunately, most of the good land in Tirisfal Glades had long since been granted to various lords and nobles. Even as a prince, he would have difficulty finding an unoccupied stretch of land with scenery to rival Quel'Thalas, let alone spending a fortune to build an estate like this.

Hearing Arthas's praise, Sylvanas blinked as though something had occurred to her, then spoke to him.

"Come, let me show you around first. The scenery down here is lovely, but you really must go up Windrunner Spire to understand what a truly beautiful view looks like."

"I'd be delighted."

Led by Sylvanas, Arthas passed through luxurious courtyards and magnificent galleries, breathing in the fragrance of tulips. After several turns, he finally reached the very top of Windrunner Spire.

It was sunset now, and the sun was slowly sinking into the Great Sea. Its golden afterglow painted the entire ocean a brilliant gold that blended with the golden coastline of Quel'Thalas. The sea breeze brushed Arthas's face, sweeping away the weariness of the past few days' travels and leaving him considerably refreshed.

The circular observation deck offered views not only of the sea to the west, but also of the forest to the east. Arthas saw numerous elven villages scattered harmoniously among the trees. Beneath the beautiful sunset, he once again heard the lilting music of the High Elves.

Sylvanas, too, quietly gazed at the scenery visible from Windrunner Spire. Even after thousands of years, she had never tired of it. Without realizing it, she seemed to see Alleria and Vereesa standing beside her once more, and Lirath cradled in their mother's arms.

But time had slipped away, and the past was gone forever. Standing beside her now was a human prince, the young paladin Arthas.

Sylvanas sighed. Sister, what should I do? Little sister, are you doing well in Dalaran? Quel'Thalas is in a terrible state. I'm beginning to feel powerless... but I must protect it, even if it costs me everything.

Over the course of their prolonged disputes, she had long since lost all trust in the members of the Silvermoon Council. Now she hoped, in her own way, to find a chance to turn Quel'Thalas's fortunes around through this foreign prince.