The city of the elves, Quel’Thalas, translated into common to mean High Home, and the name fits it.
“Behold,” Modera proclaimed in a voice soft enough so only she could hear, “the home of the Quel’dorei.” The awe was plain in her voice, and Sunset could definitely see why.
Beautiful. That was the only word that she could use to describe the city of the elves. Even from afar, she could tell that not even Canterlot came close in terms of elegance alone. Just the tall beautiful spires which were noticeable even from miles away was enough to tell Sunset of the sheer wealth and power wielded by the elven race.
She had asked Modera why the the delegation did not just teleport themselves into the elven capital. The older mage had merely pointed her to one of the huge stones sticking out like a sore thumb within the silverpine forest. “That”, She smiled, “is an elven runestone, designed to not only protect the elves in their domain, but also to prevent any unwanted trespass from outside. In the second war, the runestones were what forced the orcish spellcasters to leave these lands as they prevented them from accessing their fel magic.”
Another potent weapon in the arsenal of the elves, then? Sunset nodded in understanding, mind already awhirl with thoughts about that huge chunk of rock. Perhaps it would be possible to procure a sample?
“Don’t think about it.” Modera said, causing Sunset to turn about with a sheepish smile. Was her thoughts so obvious? “The elves had long lost the methods to create these mighty artifacts.” She narrowed her eyes. “So don’t even think about it.”
“Understood, Master Modera.” Sunset bowed.
The march to Silvermoon took about an hour, and while the delegates were a quiet bunch, the procession was anything but. It turns out that while the regular elves were still rather reserved when compared to humans, they were still capable of some measure of excitement. Out of the corner of Sunset’s eyes, she could see figures darting out of the forest to watch the procession. Even the famed dragonhawk riders did a small fly-by to salute their returning prince.
There were no cheers, but the elves talked, their musical language filling the air with a surreal yet warm feeling, almost as though their conversations were a song welcoming their returning prince. Even the clouds above seemed to have parted, whether by magical means Sunset did not know, letting the sun’s gentle warmth illuminate the dirt path upon which the delegates walked.
This was a people that loved their prince. Sunset could tell, having seen the warmth and respect that Celestia had received back in Equestria and she could easily see the similarities. It made her pause for awhile, however, as she wondered if she could ever garner such respect back in Equestria?
Probably not. Besides, respect was hardly something that she was after in the first place.
Her thoughts however, were brushed aside as the gates of Silvermoon, now only a scant fifty feet away, swung open.
Beautiful. Sunset’s eyes opened wide. She took back what she said before. Canterlot could barely compare to the elven city. Everywhere she looked, she could see works of art, from the well carved pillars to the even the tiles upon which she walked. Even the layout of the city from her vantage point seemed to have a poetic sort of arrangement to it. It almost seemed like the city was designed to be a work of art in it of itself, and knowing the elves? It may as well be.
Elves began filing out of the buildings, some watching from the streets while others look from above from alcoves, balconies, walls and even rooftops. Flower petals began dropping down to welcome the delegates, but mostly as a sign to welcome back their prince. At the head of the procession, Kael’Thas smiled as one proud of his people would from atop his steed, and waved at his people, inciting a quiet yet vibrant cheer as he did so. Behind him rode Rhonin and Vereesa, who seemed to be in deep conversation. Of course, there were rumours that the two of them were smitten with each other among the apprentices, but Sunset was not the type to believe such things.
Still, with the way that they were looking at each other… Sunset pursed her lips…
It only took awhile, before they reached the mighty keep within the city and there, Sunset saw a god. She almost stood stock still because for just a small moment, she thought that the one standing beyond the opened gates of the keep at the top of a huge stairway was none other than Princess Celestia.
She blinked, and saw the elf for who he truly was.
King Anasterian Sunstrider, ancient ruler of the elves. Clad in regal red robes with a golden coronet perched upon his head, he looked every inch the supreme master of his race. However, Sunset’s magical sense told her that he was so much more.
The elf was literally glowing with power, in a manner similar to Celestia. However, unlike Celestia, who when you focused on her magic would see a small tethering itself to something up in the heavens, King Anasterian power seemed to be drawn directly from the land itself.
And by extension, the fabled Sunwell.
As the delegation reached the foot of the stairs, it stopped. Prince Kael’thas, Archmage Rhonin and Ranger Vereesa dismounted and slowly ascended the steps with their followers and the population of Silvermoon as witness. As they reached the top, the trio swiftly knelt before the elven monarch, who spread his arms open in a gesture of welcome.
Welcome home, my son. He seemed to say, if Sunset’s lip reading were to be trusted. Kael’thas lifted his head, and while Sunset could not see what he said, his reply seemed to have pleased his father.
More pleasantries were exchanged between father and son, then to Archmage Rhonin. After a while, the king gestured and the trio were granted permission to rise. They gave way to the old, but apparently still vigorous monarch, who stepped forward.
“Delegates of Dalaran!” His voice, magically enhanced, boomed in perfect common. “I welcome you to my home, Quel’thalas. Come, you must be tired, let us away to the gardens. A feast has been prepared for you. I bid you join us.”
As rehearsed, Sunset knelt along with the other Delegates, echoing their thanks to the king of the elves. However, when she stood up, she chanced a look at the elven monarch.
She blinked, and looked to the left and right before looking back to him.
Yet still Anasterian Sunstrider’s gaze met her gaze despite being more than a hundred metres away and fifty metre up.
Kael’thas Sunstrider was glad to be home. While the elven prince much preferred Dalaran over his place here, let it be known that Quel’thalas would always hold a precious place in his heart. After all, it was where he was born and raised. Of course, it was widely known that his father, Anasterian Sunstrider opposed his decision to stay in Dalaran before finally acquiescing to his son’s demands after a century or two.
That still did not stop the older elf from offhandedly commenting to him that he would be free to stay at home if Dalaran bore him.
“Dalaran is still a rather interesting place, father.” He replied eloquently in the musical language of his people from his seat at the head of the feast to his father, King Anasterian Sunstrider. He smiled, “There are still many secrets about the keep that I have yet to pry open. I would be remiss if I did not ensure that I found all of them before returning.”
“Well said, son of mine.” His father replied, though Kael’thas did catch a minute twitch of an eyebrow. His father was annoyed, it seemed. “Still, I hope that these secrets that had your attention are at least worthy of your time and presence.”
Kael'thas kept his face passive, but frowned on the inside. The veiled meaning was clear, and Kael’thas knows that his father must be talking about his supposed relationship with a certain human apprentice. He scoffed and grimaced, but did not let it show. There was still a bitter taste on his tongue wherever he recalled the time he encountered Jaina and her paramour, that brat of a prince, Arthas. To think that she had spurned him for another prince that had so many more flaws inherent to himself was unthinkable.
“Don’t worry, my father.” Kael’thas replied as he broke out of his reverie. “The secrets in Dalaran are wide and varied.” He grinned, “I will find one that is worthy of the Sunstrider name.”
“Mmmh,” Anasterian replied, almost appearing disinterested to the casual onlooker. Of course, Kael’thas knew his father well enough to tell that the older elf was merely contemplating a thought. As for what thought that would be… let’s just say that he did not know his father that well.
Unfortunately, before the two could continue their conversation, a sudden commotion drew both of their attention. As one, the two elves along with many of their companions at the table turned towards the direction where the noise had erupted.
The gardens in which the feast was held was enormous. The one hundred and four long tables barely even took up a quarter of it. Still, the area in which the feast was held was enormous, spanning over a length of two hundred meters long and a hundred wide. Such a distance would mean that it would be hard for a human to even notice something going on in a place at the opposite end of the event.
To an elf, however, such distance was child’s play. Kael’thas frowned, before excusing himself from the table with his father. Arguments between magi and elves were rare, considering how passive the both tend to be. However, all the more reason he should try to diffuse the situation then, if he wishes for the relationship between Dalaran and Quel’thalas to remain as it were.
The scene, however, gave him pause.
Archmage Rhonin was at the scene too, and apparently in some sort of argument with another elf. Kael’thas’ eyes narrowed as he took in the noble who was in dissent. Barely seventy years old, the age of an elven teen, and most definitely much more hotheaded than some. His silver hair suggested a Windrunner lineage, but his eyes were the wrong shape and color. Perhaps a distant cousin in another family?
He looked about, taking in a much bigger picture. His eyes widened as he saw Apprentice Sunset Shimmer standing behind Rhonin. Her hair was drenched too, and her robes were stained purple, the same purple of elderberry wine. She seemed to be keeping her peace at the moment, but one need only look into her eyes to know that she was less than impressed with the elf weighing an empty glass about and arguing with the Archmage.
Kael’thas sighed as he stepped out into the empty circle that had formed around the trio. The elf was the first to notice him.
“My prince,” He bowed, immediately causing the two magi to register Kael’Thas’ arrival. “I beg of you, these mongrels,” He gestured to the two redheads beside him, “have slandered your name.”
The child was definitely immature. Kael’thas sighed tiredly, but did not let it show. A proper elven noble would had ignored whatever comment the two had made about him and reported to him privately instead of confronting them out in the open.
“Please, calm yourself.” He said to the elf before he turned to the two redheaded magi. What exactly were they talking about? His curiosity was piqued. He did not know that the two would willingly slander him. Rhonin? Maybe if he was drunk, but Sunset Shimmer? He had thought that she was far too polite to even try. “Master Rhonin, Apprentice Shimmer, is it true?” He asked.
“Only if you count sharing stories about some of the events in Dalaran as slander, Prince Kael’thas.” Rhonin sniffed, before adding. “The one about a girl and a book.”
Oh. He must be referring to that one time which Jaina, Kael’thas grimaced at the thought of her name, set a book he was holding on fire by accident. The story was quite popular in Dalaran actually, though Kael’Thas would rather it be not.
“Indeed!” The noble child sneered, “you made our prince into a joke in one of your stories!”
Great, he was one of those. An ardent supporter of his, but too young, hotheaded and far too blind to see that such a thing was insignificant. That was the problem with his people, living long lives had a tendency to make them lose their sense of priorities.
“That does not excuse you to insult us with a stream of wine, elf!” Rhonin spat as Apprentice Shimmer merely nodded, clearly not trusting herself to speak.
“Correct,” Kael’thas agreed, to the evident shock of the elven boy. He eyed him. “This is a civilized gathering, after all. Such an act was unbecoming of one who had just became an adult.” Kael’thas studied the other elf. Good, he nodded, at least the boy had the decency to look ashamed.
“On behalf of my people, I would like to apologize,” Kael’thas said as he turned back to the two magi.
“No worries, Prince Kael’thas, at least it was dealt with swiftly.” Rhonin smiled, “as expected of one of your caliber.”
“Not at all,” Kael’thas replied as he turned to the still silently smouldering apprentice. With how angry her eyes looked, he could almost swear that she would burst into flames at any moment.
“Apprentice Sunset Shimmer.” He said. The flame haired child jumped before quickly bowing to him. “None of that. Come, we should have you cleaned.” He held out a hand, ready to draw a rune in the air. “May I?”
“Is anything amiss, my son?” Anasterian’s voice rang out. Kael’thas turned in time to see his father step out of the crowd into the clearing.
“Not at all, father.”
“Still, I could see that my people had been most discourteous to your guests. Are you well?” The question was directed at the apprentice among them.
“Um.. Yes, your highness!” Sunset Shimmer bowed. Kael’thas on the other hand had his eyes trained on his parent. It did not escape his notice that Anasterian was actually studying the child intently while appearing to be a kindly king that wants the best for his guest.
For a fraction of a second, Kael’thas caught the brief glance his father sent his way. No. The elven prince thought in disbelief. Did his father call him back to…
“No need to lie to me, Apprentice… Shimmer, was it? I can still see the flames of anger in your eyes. Tell me truthfully, do you still feel wronged?”
A hesitation.
“Yes, your highness.”
Anasterian smiled at that reply, before looking back at his son and Rhonin. “Since there is bad blood at the start of the trip, it would be unwise to let it fester for the duration of your stay. May I suggest an alternative for the two of them to settle their differences?”
“Forgive me for asking, your highness, but that alternative would be?” Rhonin asked, reluctance clear in his voice.
“A magical duel.” Anasterian replied smoothly as he looked to his son and Rhonin respectively. “It was awhile since the populace of Quel’thalas had seen one. And it would also serve to show the worth of having Dalaran as an ally while at the same time, allowing the two of them to vent their differences out at each other in a more acceptable manner.”
Kael’thas looked at Rhonin, who shared his gaze. There was no way they would be able to refuse, would they? Not when his father, the King, had given, not one, but three reasons.
And if he thinks that he knows what his father was thinking, there would be a huge misunderstanding to clear up on.
He sighed. Internally.
This have the makings of a long day….