Heir to the Bloodline

We need to unite. We must stand together against the Horde. Perhaps only then can we fight for a sliver of hope.

Lothar's words echoed through Nathanos's mind. His anger showed entirely in his brisk strides as he passed through the palace corridors. If Uther had not spoken loudly enough, he might not even have heard him calling from behind.

"You don't seem very happy," Uther said.

"Looking at certain Kings makes me lose my appetite!"

"You mean Perrin?"

The name made Nathanos's stomach twist. If Genn's manner of speaking made it hard for Nathanos to breathe, then Perrin simply disgusted him. That man radiated four words from head to toe—fawning on the powerful.

When Lothar stated that every kingdom had to unite against the threat, Perrin loudly advocated trying to resolve matters through more rational means, such as negotiation.

"There's no need to wonder how foolish Perrin is."

"Boy, he is a King," Uther reproached him, then added, "Perhaps it is a viable approach?"

"If you had seen the refugees at Southshore, you wouldn't think so. I'm really worried for Lothar." Nathanos sighed and continued forward. "I hope King Terenas will take the words of Stormwind City's lion seriously."

"Where are you going?"

"Home!" Nathanos answered. Though their voices were quiet, they carried force. Uther could only shake his head helplessly, though it was not as if he disagreed with Nathanos. During the meeting, one person's words had caught his attention. Antonidas, ruler of Dalaran, had pointed out that the orc forces also had warlocks, and the magic they used was something even the Kirin Tor had never encountered.

And that was not even the worst of it!

Antonidas said that Dalaran's mages in Stormwind City had helped the defenders strike back against the Horde and turn the tide in many battles. But the orc warlocks vastly outnumbered them. Whenever one orc spellcaster was killed, another immediately took his place, with even more waiting behind him. They were surrounded by warriors protecting them, while the orc mages could use their spells to strengthen the warriors at their side.

The most shocking news was that the Guardian Medivh had died amid the chaos of war. It was clear that spells alone could not drive back the orcs.

The Guardian's fall was enough to make every King reassess this threat.

As everyone knew, human society on Azeroth had never held mages in high regard. The power those people wielded was far too strange. Unlike The Holy Light, magic was often used not to help others, but to make life easier for the caster. Most importantly, magic was difficult to control and astonishingly destructive.

There is something I find strange. A stranger comes to our shores, and suddenly he is closely tied to our survival? Yet your own kingdom has been destroyed, your King is dead, your Prince is as young as a child, and your lands have been taken. Is that not so?"

Whenever Nathanos recalled the way Perrin spoke, he wanted to smash the man's nose with one punch.

"This man is actually the ruler of a kingdom?" Nathanos struggled to suppress his anger and sarcasm. Perrin had mocked Lothar for being alarmist, claiming that even if the kingdoms united, Lothar could contribute nothing to the Alliance.

At the time, Nathanos had wanted to loudly condemn the King of Alterac. He had seen the Stormwind City refugees in Southshore. Lothar had not only brought Prince Varian, but many other people as well, including soldiers with experience fighting orcs. Lothar himself was also a commander who had fought the orcs.

But none of those reasons were as effective as a single sentence from Terenas. It turned out that Lothar had close ties to the lands ruled by every King present. He was the last descendant of the Arathi bloodline, and his lineage was even more noble than the Kings'.

The secret had clearly shocked the other Kings. Nathanos was stunned as well, and he began to see Lothar differently. They had known each other for only a few days, but Lothar had never revealed the secret of his bloodline, even though he knew it would make the other kingdoms respect him tenfold.

"A descendant of Sor'Thalas! The bloodline of Arathi?" Nathanos examined the matter. He had read many accounts of the Arathi Empire. Since Lothar was a descendant of Emperor Thoradin, why was he not the King of Stormwind City? There were too many secrets worth uncovering. Nathanos smiled and looked up. As he turned the corner, a petite figure crashed straight into him.

"Ah!"

"Princess Calia! I'm terribly sorry." Nathanos hurriedly caught the girl before she fell backward, apologizing profusely.

"I was the one being careless." Jaina Proudmoore adjusted her dress. When she looked up at Nathanos, she was immediately drawn to his fresh, distinctive face. "I know you. Lord Uther's apprentice."

"My name is Nathanos Maris. It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness." Nathanos said this, then remembered that Uther always bowed when he met Terenas. Nathanos did not like doing that, so he merely dipped his head slightly to Calia.

The girl looked like a beauty who had stepped out of a classical portrait. Though she was only thirteen, her poised manner made her seem capable of handling any social occasion. Her hair was pinned up in a flawless bun, her dress was new, and she wore a faint perfume. The necklace around her neck was expensive—pearls, diamonds, sapphires, all priceless. Such formal attire could only mean she was going to meet an important guest.

"You don't look like a follower of The Holy Light at all," Calia said while Nathanos was thinking.

"What I can learn from my mentor is not devotion to The Holy Light." Nathanos said this, though in truth he did not want to waste any more time here. He still needed to return to his family and tell them what might happen in Lordaeron. If war truly broke out, finding a place to settle would become urgent.

"I heard people say your archery is exceptional, that you can hit the bullseye from a hundred meters away."

He was not carrying a bow and arrow, nor had he ever displayed his skills before anyone. He had only occasionally mentioned to Uther that he enjoyed the feeling of drawing a bowstring. A story changed every time it passed from one person to another. How many mouths had it gone through before he became a "master archer"?

Nathanos smiled faintly. "Just rumors, Your Highness. But why are you here? At the end of this corridor is the throne hall. Are you going to see His Majesty the King?"

If he wanted to end a conversation, it was best to get the other party talking.

"Oh, right! Father does not like tardiness."