Alchemy

"Dalaran Potions and Materials" was an alchemy book popular throughout all the human kingdoms. Among all people, mages were the most proficient in Alchemy, because whenever they had nothing to do, they stayed in their own places conducting experiments, studying magic, or brewing potions. Nathanos sat in a corner of the library, turning the pages one by one. Besides potions that helped restore wounds and mana, there were also potions that enhanced certain attributes, such as Strength, Agility, and Intelligence. However, these potions had a flaw: once their effects wore off, the user would enter a period of weakness, with all abilities declining for a short time. If such potions were used on the battlefield, they could very well harm their users.

Every potion had its own rank. The potions recorded in the book only went as high as Rank Five. Beyond that, only mages knew what level they reached. Over the past few months, Nathanos had conducted many experiments himself. He had lost count of how many explosions had occurred in the process, but fortunately, he had already mastered how much of each herb to add when brewing potions.

"Nathanos?"

Someone was calling him? It was a girl. Nathanos looked toward the voice and saw a girl with delicate features standing at the library entrance. She was holding the hand of a three- or four-year-old boy, probably her younger brother. Looking at him reminded Nathanos of Stephan.

The girl's makeup and clothing showed that she was a noble, and one of high status at that. Nathanos knew how he should speak to her.

"You were calling me?" Nathanos's gaze wandered for a moment. She was younger than him, and he had always felt that addressing her this way was impolite, but he still said, "My lady."

She covered her mouth and laughed, clearly amused by him. Nathanos felt thoroughly dejected. He felt like a fool right now. No, "like" was not accurate.

"Did I say something wrong?" Nathanos asked.

The girl shook her head, restraining her laughter. "No. It's just that you suddenly became so serious just now, and I found it interesting. I thought only Father or Sir Uther would act like that, but you seem to be his student, so I can understand."

"My mentor isn't like you think. He's very easygoing. It's just that on certain occasions, he has to observe etiquette."

"Like now?"

A trace of surprise appeared on Nathanos's face. Indeed, perhaps he had been too nervous. There was no need for them to follow adult formalities when no one else was around.

"I still don't know your name."

"My name is Jaina Proudmoore. This is my younger brother, Arthas Menethil."

"The Princess and Prince, here?" Nathanos asked in surprise.

Jaina had thought that after hearing her identity, Nathanos would bow to her like everyone else and say a few polite words. But he did not. He merely stood there, silently asking with his eyes why she was here.

"Isn't that perfectly normal? This is my home. Of course I have the right to come here."

"No, that's not what I meant. I thought a Princess should be somewhere more exquisitely decorated. This place is far too plain. Aside from books, there is nothing else here."

Jaina nodded and told Nathanos that she was merely taking her younger brother around.

"I've heard of you—the boy who miraculously survived in the snow mountains. Your story is like a fairy tale."

"Thank you for the compliment, Your Highness." Nathanos glanced elsewhere, then looked at Jaina's face and asked tentatively, "Your Highness, have we met somewhere before?"

Jaina smiled. "You remember? Two years ago, you were sitting in a corner reading as well. I asked you what a Ranger was, but you ran out."

"Really?" Nathanos seemed to have such a memory in his mind, but he could no longer remember it clearly. Or perhaps he did not want to remember. "That was a long time ago."

"Nathanos, I heard Father mention you. He said that you would definitely become a hero of Lordaeron in the future."

"I don't think so. Actually, I've never thought about what I would do in the future. Perhaps I'll choose to go home and spend my life on my father's farm."

"You're joking." Jaina smiled and glanced at Arthas. "Look, even my brother doesn't believe you."

Lordaeron's young Prince was looking at Nathanos curiously.

"His Highness the Prince is the true hero of Lordaeron."

"Father cares deeply about Arthas. Perhaps he will have Uther teach Arthas in the future."

"Really?" Nathanos looked at Arthas again. It was as though he saw himself from two years ago. Perhaps by the time Arthas could wield a sword, he would have already left this place.

"It would be my honor to study under the same master as His Highness the Prince."

Jaina nodded. Arthas did not understand what they were talking about, but this place was too quiet, making the boy feel very uncomfortable. He tugged hard on his sister's hand, signaling that he wanted to go somewhere else.

"I have to go," Jaina said.

After saying goodbye to her, Nathanos was left alone. When he saw Arthas's face, countless images flashed through his mind. He saw ice and snow all around him, heavy snow falling from the sky, and a gray haze ahead. Yet he was running through the snow, searching for something. It lasted only an instant, but it made Nathanos's heart race. It did not seem like a good thing. He was worried, afraid of something. This was an omen of disaster approaching.

"Everything is fine. Nothing will happen," Nathanos reassured himself.

Winter Veil. The final season of the year on Azeroth was considered a season of change in many cultures. When snow covered the earth, Dwarves recounted an ancient legend and celebrated the passing of the old year and the arrival of the new. Such a festival had also spread to the human kingdoms and Elf kingdoms, and its customs had changed due to cultural differences.

Dwarves had always been eager to uncover the secrets of their origins. During this season, they held celebrations in praise of Winter Father. They were an incarnation of the Titans who had once existed on the continent of Azeroth in ancient times. They claimed that the blood of those mysterious beings flowed through their veins, and the Dwarves living in snow-covered Dun Morogh naturally believed that they had been blessed by Winter Father.

Nathanos often heard Larein and Kasha tell stories about Winter Veil.

"Did you know? I once made a wish to Winter Father, and he granted it."

"What did you wish for?"

"I wished for a whole chest of candy. When I woke up the next day, there really was a chest full of candy in front of the window."

"Really? Then I want to make a wish too. I hope Winter Father can let me meet The Holy Light. I believe she must be a benevolent goddess."

"Nathanos, what is your wish?" Kasha blinked at him.

"I don't have a wish, because I lack nothing right now," Nathanos replied. Then he looked up at the snow drifting through the sky and added, "If I did have one, I would want to meet the Winter Father Larein talked about."

"Me too, me too." Larein raised his hand excitedly.

Nathanos had never seen Winter Father. Later, he gradually learned that he was merely a symbol of people's hopes for a better life. The human kingdoms were peaceful, at least for now. But when war came, what then?

Author: "Volume One complete. Volume Two will be updated tomorrow."