Watching Charlemagne Blink around the ranger training camp, Xiao'en nodded in satisfaction.
"Now you've learned the basics of Blink, but you must remember what I said. Until you've mastered it completely, never use it in rapid succession, or you'll greatly increase your chances of getting lost in another dimension."
"That's also the warning our instructors repeated most often when we Arcanists were learning Blink."
Once his initial excitement had passed, Charlemagne nodded solemnly.
Learning to conjure magical bread and water afterward posed no difficulty either, but their taste was just as Xiao'en had described...
After Charlemagne personally sampled the water and bread conjured through arcane magic, his face immediately fell under Xiao'en's gleeful gaze.
The taste... was truly indescribable. The bread had none of the texture food should have, and naturally, no flavor whatsoever. Chewing it felt like eating a lump of tasteless mud.
The magical water was much the same. The well water and river water Charlemagne usually drank always had other flavors mixed in to some degree, but water conjured through arcane magic... had no flavor at all. Nothing. Drinking it quenched his thirst, but that was all.
"It really is only good for emergencies... If I ate this year-round, I suspect my sense of taste would deteriorate sooner or later."
Hearing Charlemagne's glum assessment, Xiao'en shrugged and gave a teasing smile.
"That's what I told you. Nobody likes the taste."
After learning the two minor spells, Charlemagne went a step further and began asking Xiao'en about the mysteries of Teleport.
However, Teleport, let alone Portal, was not something he could learn in a short time. First, he had to understand the ley line structure at his destination and possess a certain degree of spatial awareness.
Teleport was relatively simple, since he only had to transport himself. Portal demanded more precise control over arcane magic and a large amount of mana.
"Normally, Portal isn't a spell you cast alone. The strain is too great. Unless you reach the level of a ninth-circle Archmage, you generally cast it together with others."
"If you want to learn Teleport, I can lend you a few books when we return to Silvermoon City this time. They explain spatial awareness and Quel'Thalas's ley lines. You can take your time studying them afterward."
"Remember, don't rush it. The first time you use it, you must have an experienced mage beside you to guide you. I've seen far too many unlucky souls get flung into bizarre places, or even the Twisting Nether, while practicing Teleport."
Hearing Xiao'en's solemn warning, Charlemagne nodded seriously in agreement. Just as he had thought, learning to teleport was not as simple as it was in the game.
For a start, understanding the ley lines required guidance from a local. Who knew how long it would take him to figure them out on his own?
Fortunately, as a High Elf, he at least had permission to teleport within Quel'Thalas. He only needed to master spatial awareness, then register with the mages' association in Silvermoon City before he could connect to the ley lines and begin making proper attempts at teleportation.
However, Charlemagne had no desire to connect directly to the Sunwell. He knew perfectly well that once he used the thing, he would develop a magic addiction (not an insinuation!!), and continued use would draw him deeper and deeper until he could no longer escape.
Once they left the Sunwell, the High Elves' magic addiction would gradually flare up, until they finally became crazed Wretched.
On his future journey to the Broken Isles, Arcan'dor, the miracle tree, was also one of Charlemagne's goals. The fruit this tree bore could cure magic addiction, making it extremely important to the High Elves.
Of course, with the Sunwell still in existence, the High Elves did not take magic addiction very seriously. Charlemagne, however, knew that such an immense source of energy would be coveted by others at any time.
Even without Kel'Thuzad's corruption or Kil'jaeden crawling out of the toilet, Archimonde or other powerful beings might still set their sights on it. The High Elves would find it difficult to defend it on their own. History had already proven that.
Then the best approach was to use the Sunwell's immense power to grow Arcan'dor before the well was seized or corrupted, and use Arcan'dor's fruit to cure the High Elves' magic addiction.
But while this plan was easy to describe, putting it into practice would be extraordinarily difficult.
First, his people currently did not consider magic addiction a problem at all. Even if Charlemagne brought back Arcan'dor's seed, would the Sun King allow him to plant a seed of unknown origin in the Sunwell? Dream on...
Second, Arcan'dor should currently still be sealed near the Temple of Fal'dora on the outskirts of Suramar. The moment the seed was unsealed, it would immediately begin absorbing enormous amounts of energy.
With the meager energy Charlemagne possessed as a mere advanced ranger, he would probably have been sucked dry long before he returned to Quel'Thalas.
Third, Arcan'dor's growth also required the care of a Druid familiar with it-namely, Farodin the Valewalker...
How to persuade Farodin, a Night Elf, to come to Quel'Thalas, home to the descendants of the Highborne, his people's ancestral enemies, and help tend Arcan'dor was another monumental problem.
As Charlemagne thought things over, his thoughts wandered elsewhere. Seeing him in a daze, Xiao'en grabbed his shoulders and shook him several times before finally snapping him out of it.
"Hey, what are you thinking about? I've been calling you for ages, and you haven't reacted..."
Charlemagne frowned and hesitated for a moment, but ultimately asked his question in an uncertain tone.
"Xiao'en, do you know that our people develop a magic addiction from drawing on the Sunwell's magic?"
Xiao'en looked unconcerned when he heard the question. "Of course I do. But as long as we keep living beside the Sunwell, that addiction doesn't really matter, does it?"
Charlemagne shook his head in exasperation. "Have you never considered that someone might come to seize such a precious source of energy someday?"
"Seize it? Who would dare? Leaving aside the powerful barrier we've placed around the forest, which of Azeroth's current races would willingly make enemies of the High Elves to seize our source of life? Humans? Dwarves or gnomes?"
The disdainful words Xiao'en spoke reflected the views of most High Elves at present.
Of course, that view could not be considered wrong at the moment. In the exceptionally peaceful Azeroth of today, no one would indeed come to seize the Sunwell. But that did not mean no one would in the future...
History really does have a certain inevitability... The High Elves' blind faith in the Sunwell means we're bound to underestimate an enemy who appears without warning.
After Xiao'en hurried off to the tavern, eager for a drink, Charlemagne remained where he was, chin in hand, pondering Quel'Thalas's future.
With what little influence I have now, what can I change? It looks like I really do need to build a faction of my own...
(End of chapter)