Assessment

Nathanos returned a little late. Today was the day the Crown Prince was born, and Jonathan assumed Nathanos had merely been out playing a bit too long. He had hidden his bow and arrows near the Sewers by his practice spot.

The lighting inside the house was rather dim, making Nathanos's swollen red eyes hard to notice. After dinner, he returned to his room without lingering. His mind replayed the feeling of drawing the bow just now: his arms trembled, his muscles ached, and holding the bow drawn had already begun to make his body protest. He persisted for a long time, maintaining that stance and keeping the bowstring taut.

Nathanos took out paper and pen and began recording:

1. Strength issue: His right hand began trembling slightly the moment he drew the bowstring.

At first, the boy thought it was simply because he was not used to it yet, but after trying several times, the same problem remained.

2. Accuracy issue: Forget hitting the bullseye—the arrows did not even touch a single hair on the dummy...

Nathanos summarized many things, including his own problems and those with the bow and arrows. After carefully placing the notes in his vest pocket, he began studying the Dwarven language. He did not know how to pronounce it, but at least this would let him understand the dwarves' language. Only the faintly flickering candle and the shadows on the wall kept him company until late into the night.

Relax your whole body. Treat drawing the bow and pulling the string as easily as breathing. Breathe... steady your breathing.

Two days later, the city's celebratory atmosphere seemed not to have faded. Nathanos observed the streets and alleys as he headed for the Archive not far from the church.

This was where he would study next, and where he would work as a volunteer.

Nathanos did not know how the other children were doing now, but he was thrilled to be able to enter the Archive. The curator was a good man, allowing him to browse through the records and books as long as he did not damage anything. What interested Nathanos most were "Sauras language" and books about weapons, but that did not mean he ignored the other collections. In fact, over two years, he had gone through the entire Archive. From thick dictionaries to a single map, nothing escaped his attention.

Because the Archive was rather remote, few people usually came. Occasionally, though, unexpected visitors appeared.

Nathanos's ears twitched. First came the sound of hoofbeats, followed by someone jumping down from a horse.

The boy carefully closed the map in his hands. He had been studying how to enter Quel'Thalas. He was certain that one day he would go to the kingdom of the Elves, but for now, he had to receive a guest. Across all of Lordaeron, his way of greeting guests as an Archive attendant was surely one of a kind. He would hide behind the bookshelves, hold his breath, and observe their every move through the gaps between the shelves.

A few footsteps rang out, each clearer than the last.

Nathanos saw a burly middle-aged man. His powerful physique was well concealed beneath a comfortable robe made of Dalaran silk. His short brown hair was as thick as his beard, and the authority between his brows carried a trace of kindness.

Nathanos did not reveal himself immediately. The man asked in a booming voice, "Is anyone here?"

Time passed quickly. The man looked around the Archive strangely, then stood at the registration desk and waited.

Nearly ten minutes passed.

Nathanos narrowed his eyes at the man, then silently approached the innermost bookshelf in the Archive. He took down a thick, unopened book and slowly came up behind him...

"Ten copper coins."

The sudden voice clearly startled the man. He turned around in a panic, his right hand unconsciously reaching from his shoulder toward his back. Then he lowered his head and saw a boy standing before him.

The middle-aged man was somewhat taken aback and could not say a word for quite some time. Finally, he asked, "Who are you?"

"Archive attendant Nathanos Maris."

Nathanos saw the man before him frown and eye him suspiciously. "An attendant? Why did you only appear now? I've been waiting nearly twenty minutes."

"More precisely, fifteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds," Nathanos replied. Then he continued, "I knew from the moment you entered. I was here the whole time; I merely wanted to confirm whether you were a visitor or a robber. It seems you are not the latter."

Robber? The word made the middle-aged man smile. This was the capital of Lordaeron, yet the boy before him was talking about robbers. He hesitated for a moment and looked at the book in the child's hand. It was indeed the one he wanted.

"Natha...nos, how can you be certain I'm not a robber? And how did you know I would want this book?"

"That was merely a manner of speaking, sir. I knew you were not a robber from the moment you entered," Nathanos said. "As for this book... it is very popular among the nobility. And this is the only copy left in the city."

"Who says I'm a noble?"

Nathanos drew a breath. Being doubted did not feel good. After a brief pause, he began speaking, leaving the man before him increasingly speechless.

"I not only know you are a noble, I also know you are a high-ranking officer who has even met the King. You have no family and serve the Holy Light wholeheartedly. You are accustomed to using a two-handed warhammer and strictly obey doctrine and ritual. You have not slept for several days, yet you still cannot rest next. I believe that should be enough, sir."

The curtain of silence fell as Nathanos finished speaking. The boy felt as though the man before him had stopped breathing, merely staring at him with his mouth slightly open.

"You... have seen me before?"

"Never, but I know your name." Nathanos blinked and gave a slight nod of respect. "Lord Uther."

"Since you have never seen me, how do you know everything about me? And why do you say I am Uther?" the middle-aged man asked.

"The robe you are wearing is expensive, far beyond what an ordinary soldier could afford. Your posture and hairstyle clearly show that you are military. The neigh your horse made when it stopped also indicates that it is a warhorse. Combined, these two points prove that you are a high-ranking noble officer. As a senior officer, your eyes are bloodshot from several days without sleep. It is clear that you cannot celebrate the Prince's birth like everyone else, because you must maintain order in the city during this period of revelry. The King must have personally assigned such an important task, so you have met the King. During the fifteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds you waited, you did not look around. Instead, you faced the portrait on the wall..." Nathanos glanced at it. He had seen the same portrait in the church. "That is Archbishop Alonsus Faol. You kept your eyes closed, as though listening to his sermon, which shows that you are a devout follower of the Holy Light."