Chapter Seventeen: The Demon’s Craving

During the initial period settled in Dalaran, Kael’thas was in a troubling state—his mind foggy, limbs weak, unable even to properly cast simple spells. It took him a full two weeks to recover, and only then did he truly grasp that the Sunwell was not merely a blessing, but a daunting burden.

Every elf born in Quel’Thalas could effortlessly draw abundant magic from their surroundings since childhood. The Sunwell, positioned at the heart of Quel’Thalas’s magical nexus, supplied the land’s every corner with abundant power through its vast arcane network. This endless fount of magic gave the elves an unparalleled advantage, making the emergence of spellcasters among them more frequent. While their rich heritage and innate talent played a part, it was the Sunwell’s inexhaustible energy source—something no human mage could rival—that truly set them apart.

Elves constantly enjoyed the Sunwell’s grace, which extended their lifespans, strengthened their bodies, and infused magic into every aspect of their lives. Even apprentice mages, standing on Quel’Thalas’s soil, could effortlessly wield spells that typically required fully trained mages, while seasoned mages’ spells became even more potent.

Only a rare few elves, such as the rangers who preferred closeness to nature, refrained from regularly drawing power from the Sunwell’s magic network. Unlike mages who relied on magical power to strengthen themselves, these rangers honed their combat skills and their attunement to the wilderness to grow stronger—Sylvanas, Lor’themar, and Haduron were among them.

Apart from these rangers, even ordinary elves freely absorbed the Sunwell’s magic, for its source never ran dry. Yet when elves stayed away from Quel’Thalas for too long and could no longer draw upon the Sunwell’s high-quality magic, their minds and wills endured unbearable torment. Only by returning home and reconnecting with the Sunwell could they avoid such suffering. Consequently, few native elves ever left Quel’Thalas for extended periods.

Kael’thas had read scholarly works in the Sunspire’s library describing this affliction, labeled “arcane addiction” by the scholars of Quel’dorei. The elves, however, paid it little mind—who could breach the protective wards of Ban’thirnor, overcome their defenses, defeat the mighty Sun King, and threaten the very foundation of their realm? Even he himself once thought these accounts exaggerated—until his time in Dalaran revealed the truth was far more severe.

Even an ordinary mage’s control over magic far surpasses that of an average elf, yet Kael’thas, a grand archmage with strength and willpower beyond most, was debilitated for a full fortnight by this strange affliction. What then could happen to a common elf who stayed away from the Sunwell for too long? He dared not imagine.

Kael’thas discovered that elven mages typically required about a month to overcome their dependency, depending largely on their willpower, while rangers were barely affected—recovering within a day or two at most. Only then did Kael’thas understand why, in a land dominated by magic like Quel’Thalas, rangers held positions nearly equal to mages, even commanding the southern forest army under the title of Ranger General.

This was the safeguard left by the first Sun King—should the Sunwell suffer catastrophe, Quel’Thalas would not lose all its power overnight and become prey to its enemies.

The arcane addiction became a vexing problem for Kael’thas. His ancestors had not worried because their kingdom was strong, and no other force on the continent posed a real threat. But the recent wars with the orcs proved otherwise; danger was real. With the Amani trolls stirring again, Kael’thas suddenly realized the elves were on the precipice of disaster.

Throughout his studies in Dalaran, he pondered how to cure this addiction—a mystery that had plagued countless arcane scholars for generations. No matter how gifted he was, Kael’thas could not bridge the gap.

Then he met Arthas—through Arthas’s girlfriend.

Soon after, he met Arthas himself, who promptly beat him in a sparring match. Yet, after hearing Arthas speak, Kael’thas found himself captivated—not in the way one might expect, but by the kingly confidence Arthas exuded, something Kael’thas lacked.

Was Kael’thas confident? Certainly. He was the most brilliant and talented mage in Quel’Thalas in centuries, the son of the Sun King, and heir to the throne. Yet throughout, he doubted his ability to shoulder such a burden.

Arthas was different. His decisiveness and resolve reminded Kael’thas of his father in his prime. As fellow princes, Kael’thas felt inferior to Arthas. He abandoned his pursuit of love and chose instead to befriend Arthas, eager to learn how he perceived and solved problems.

Arthas possessed vital knowledge far beyond Kael’thas’s grasp. While Kael’thas knew ancient secrets, Arthas understood every major turning point in the world’s fate. Their judgments about the future were on entirely different planes.

During Arthas’s stay in Dalaran, Kael’thas learned much from this younger friend. Before Arthas returned to Lordaeron, he hinted cryptically that he knew the solution to Kael’thas’s arcane addiction.

Kael’thas nearly detained him on the spot to extract the answer but restrained himself.

“Find a source of pure enough energy to replace the Sunwell’s power—this is one way,” Arthas said before soaring away on his gryphon, leaving Kael’thas to ponder: One way? Did Arthas know others?

This solution was indeed effective. The best example was human mages, who used the pure arcane energies of the ley lines. Though harder to harness and far less abundant than the Sunwell’s magic—like dew compared to a vast lake—human mages were rarely troubled by arcane addiction.

But could the elves forsake their lake to subsist on dew?

Kael’thas could see the impossibility at a glance, especially since nearly all magic within Quel’Thalas was influenced by the Sunwell. Seeking pure ley energy elsewhere was futile. Moreover, elves required vast amounts of magic daily to stave off addiction; the slow accumulation human mages relied on would never suffice.

Arthas’s unfinished words frustrated Kael’thas, but on reflection, he realized Arthas was his friend and had no obligation to concern himself with all elves. Thus, Arthas only shared a way for Kael’thas personally to avoid addiction.

The message was clear: “You and I are friends; I’ll help you. But if you want to free your entire people, know that nothing in this world comes without a price.”

Thus, Kael’thas emerged as Arthas’s foremost ally.

As an elven prince, Kael’thas naturally refrained from any improper acts merely to please Arthas. Yet he understood Arthas needed an ally in him, the Sun King’s sole heir. Today, Kael’thas came not only to express gratitude but also to bind Arthas’s interests with his own. Were it not for Arthas’s betrothal, Kael’thas might have even introduced him to an elven lady.

Feigning casualness, Kael’thas glanced at Sylvanas Windrunner, the Ranger General, a figure he respected deeply, though he sensed her demeanor was off today. Known for her concealed disdain toward humans, her attitude toward the prince of Lordaeron shocked Kael’thas. This was the formidable Ranger General, not some pampered noblewoman.

Had she, like her sister and younger sibling, already succumbed? Were the Windrunner family secretly fond of humans?

Should he inform Arthas’s fiancée—or perhaps play matchmaker?

Had Sylvanas known Kael’thas’s thoughts, she would have scolded the scheming prince, regardless of his royal status. She maintained a composed exterior for Quel’Thalas’s diplomatic face, only to be betrayed by his plotting.

In truth, during this semi-secret meeting, aside from Archmage Rommath, who acted solely on his prince’s behalf, the other three harbored their own hidden agendas.