Magic Spring Flow

"The Regent?" Vortar felt like he'd grasped a lifeline. Only then did Sylvanas realize that news of her leaving Quel'Thalas to join the Alliance hadn't spread. She gave a bitter smile, an expression Vortar caught. The prophet then remembered what the Female Elf had said during her introduction.

"I heard Quel'Thalas has joined the Horde, but you just said you represent the Alliance."

"It's a long story," Sylvanas quickly reported what she knew, setting aside all speculation and stating only the facts. She told everyone that not all Elf were willing to join the Horde. Finally, she said, "My sister has forgotten the crimes the Horde committed against Quel'Thalas. Of course, this doesn't mean I'm obsessed with past hatred; it's just that I'm unwilling to be at the beck and call of those beasts, no matter how wise the Warchief may be."

"If you consider me the Betrayer, you can kick me out," Sylvanas said jokingly, before returning to her serious tone.

"Your so-called 'The Betrayer' are all over this place," Vortar said, immediately eliciting laughter that lightened the tense atmosphere.

"We have also betrayed Kael'thas, and I have sworn, along with my followers, that the Astrologers will be loyal to the Naaru A'dal."

This meant they would no longer be subjects of Quel'Thalas, a fact Sylvanas didn't explicitly state. "Your choice is correct, Vortar," the Female Elf's powerful voice rang out. "At least you won't be aiding and abetting Kael'thas. To be loyal to a Naaru is more important than..."

Suddenly, a horn sounded outside, followed by a series of melodious music. Sylvanas was interrupted.

The discussion in the room came to an abrupt halt.

"What's going on outside?" Vortar asked the Elf standing outside the hall.

The Elf turned his tense face to his commander. "It is the Naaru, my lord! Adal is summoning you to see him."

"Madam," Vortar tensed, "I am now going to fight the Aldor Draenei for command of the attack on Tempest Keep! I'm afraid we will have to part ways for the time being."

Sylvanas pursed her lips tightly and nodded in response to the prophet.

"Ennulil!" Vortar shouted.

A young Elf man approached. "My lord?" His high-pitched voice sounded somewhat overly solemn.

"Take Lady Sylvanas to rest and give her anything she wants," Vortar said, nodding to the Female Elf.

"Well... I'll take a rest for now." Sylvanas suddenly felt a bit tired; she really should rest, but there were some things she couldn't let go of. "Vortar, has the attack on Tempest Keep been decided?"

"It was decided long ago," the leader of the Starcaller replied. "Now all that remains is to determine who will lead this battle."

"I... well, you go ahead." Silence followed. Vortar sensed that Sylvanas had something else to say, but unspoken difficulties are usually hard to explain in a single sentence.

"Please make yourself at home, ma'am." He ended his sentence somewhat hesitantly, bowed to Sylvanas, and quickly left.

"Does Vortar hate Kael'thas?" Sylvanas asked Ennulil.

The Elf raised her head to Sylvanas to express her anger. "Yes, madam. I believe every Elf who learns of the Prince's fall will be furious."

Shouldn't it be regret or grief? Sylvanas wondered, growing increasingly suspicious of Ennulil and Vortar's attitude.

"Did he just say he wanted to compete with the Draenei for command?" Sylvanas paced back and forth where Vortar had just stood, as if holding another meeting.

"Yes, madam. The holy Adal is summoning all warriors who are ready for battle." He scratched his brown hair with one hand. "This is an opportunity to prove loyalty, and the prophet values it highly."

A chill ran down Sylvanas's skin. She knew the Elf wasn't lying, and that his words were exactly what she had been worried about.

What motivated Vortar and the Starcaller was not hatred for Kael'thas, nor was it to reverse the tragic reality that might befall the Blood Elf in the future.

It was flattery! Everything was to gain Adal's favor.

Sylvanas gritted her teeth. She felt she was being somewhat arbitrary, yet it was undeniably true. The Starcaller's devotion to Adal was comparable to the High Elf's worship of the Sunwell.

How terrifying! The Female Elf pulled her cloak tighter, seeking a brief moment of warmth.

Tempest Keep doesn't need windows. Just like its name suggests, it's a fortress constantly battered by storms, whether magical or interstellar. Windows are just decorations, easily shattered into dust.

Strangers visiting this place for the first time are amazed by the existence of this wonder, awestruck by its beauty and mystery, and curious about what secrets the Draenei hold.

Kael'thas used magic to reach the central hub of the fortress.

The walls and dome here radiated golden and purple light, adorning the ground with vibrant colors. A symbol was also embedded in the ground, resembling the Naaru he had captured here before.

The Blood Elf Prince raised an eyebrow; he'd heard the Draenei greatly revered these creatures. Thinking of this, Kael'thas almost broke into a smile.

"Is there anything that can be trusted forever?"

'Yes, only power is eternal,' a whisper echoed in my mind.

"Is that so?" A barely perceptible smile appeared on Kael'thas's thin lips. She wondered if she should adjust her tone to be more humble. But to be honest, these memories had existed in his consciousness for centuries.

'Want to control power?'

The Prince quickly replied, "My father told me that the power of darkness should be forbidden. It is Mirror Image of corruption." He found his voice becoming like a calm, serene song, and unconsciously bit his lip hard.

'So, he died, at the hands of someone who wielded dark powers.'

"You created the Lich King!" he said, this time with greater seriousness. "And then he destroyed everything I cherished."

'But your enemy is still alive. Illidan couldn't defeat him, and neither can you, right?'

Kael'thas stared at the silvery-white liquid flowing around him, the walls, and the ceiling, his heart pounding with irritation at the provocation in the whispered words. "Don't forget, Illidan's attack on Icecrown Citadel was also your doing... You can only send that blind man to do your bidding."

'The same mistake won't happen twice, and the same thing won't repeat itself, right?'

Kael'thas narrowed his eyes, his voice growing harsher. "Yes, it won't happen." The Prince recalled the scene he witnessed upon returning to Silvermoon City: his father pierced by a sword, and the divine sword "Flaming Strike," a symbol of royal power, shattered.

"It will never happen again."

'Then... prove yourself!'

Why should I prove anything to you?

The whispers stopped for a moment, but were immediately followed by a loud burst of laughter. Kael'thas was annoyed; he felt like he had asked a very stupid question and made himself look like a fool.

He quickly realized he was a fool.

Kael'thas felt a strange movement beneath his feet, and he was so surprised he couldn't jump away. The Naaru patterns embedded in the ground suddenly bloomed like flowers. Kael'thas watched in rapt attention as a pool of purple water gushed forth from the blooming flowers, and he quickly realized it was magic, flowing inexplicably deep within the meandering spring. He couldn't help but gasp in astonishment.

"This feeling... is even more intense than the Sunwell..." Kael'thas couldn't express his feelings at that moment; his mouth was open, as if he were enduring it all.

The whispered voice spoke again, repeating the same words: 'Then... prove yourself.'

The wondrous sensation vanished, Kael'thas was inevitably disappointed, but even more so, he felt a surge of excitement; he wished he could bask in the magical spring forever. It took the Prince a while to regain his usual composure, even more so than before.

"Yes, Kil'jaeden."