Before Jaina could speak again, footsteps echoed from the hallway. A moment later the door opened.
Standing at the entrance was a tall elven woman clad in ranger armor. Her long pale hair flowed behind her like silver moonlight, and her sharp crimson eyes immediately surveyed the room. Sylvanas Windrunner.
The Ranger-General of Quel'Thalas. Her gaze moved between the two mages.
"I was told we have a visitor from Dalaran."
Jaina straightened slightly.
"Ranger-General."
Sylvanas stepped into the room. Her sharp instincts had already sensed the unusual tension in the air.
"I take it that something serious is being discussed."
Her eyes shifted toward Leylin.
"You rarely gather people unless the situation warrants it."
Leylin gave a faint smile.
"You know me too well."
Sylvanas folded her arms.
"Then speak. What is troubling our guest from Dalaran?"
Jaina took a slow breath before explaining everything. The cursed grain from Andorhal. The spreading plague. The rise of the undead army known as the Scourge. And finally… The terrible tragedy in Stratholme.
As she spoke, Sylvanas' expression gradually grew colder. When Jaina finished, the ranger-general remained silent for several seconds.
"Undead armies spreading across Lordaeron…"
Her voice carried quiet concern.
"And the human prince sailed north to hunt the demon responsible."
Leylin nodded.
"Yes."
Sylvanas' eyes narrowed slightly.
"And why do I sense there is more you are not saying?"
Leylin glanced briefly at Jaina. Then he answered.
"Because this war will not remain within human lands."
The room fell silent. Sylvanas' gaze sharpened instantly.
"What are you implying?"
Leylin turned toward the window again. His voice remained calm.
"If events continue as they are… the Scourge will eventually march north."
"And their target will be this kingdom."
Sylvanas' eyes flashed.
"You believe the undead will invade Quel'Thalas?"
Leylin nodded slowly.
"Yes. And when they do…" He looked directly at her. "They will come for the Sunwell."
Sylvanas' expression hardened immediately. The Sunwell was the sacred heart of the high elven kingdom. The source of their magical power.
An invasion targeting the Sunwell would mean the destruction of their entire civilization.
"That is an extraordinary claim."
Her voice remained controlled.
"On what basis do you make such a prediction?"
Leylin gestured toward the floating arcane instruments.
"These devices track disturbances in the magical currents across the continent. Since the fall of Stratholme, the energy patterns of death magic have increased dramatically."
Sylvanas listened carefully. Leylin continued.
"And the Scourge has one clear objective. To grow stronger. And nothing in the Eastern Kingdoms holds more magical power than the Sunwell."
The implications were obvious. If the Scourge discovered the Sunwell… They would come.
Sylvanas walked toward the window and looked out across the peaceful forests of Quel'Thalas. The rangers training in the distance looked small beneath the towering golden trees.
For thousands of years, Quel'Thalas had remained safe behind its enchanted borders. But Leylin's words planted a seed of concern. If he was correct… That peace would soon end.
After a moment, she spoke quietly.
"If this future truly awaits us…"
Her crimson eyes sharpened with determination.
"Then the rangers of Quel'Thalas will be ready."
Behind her, Jaina remained silent. Because Leylin's predictions had grown far more frightening than she expected. Arthas. The cursed runeblade Frostmourne. The fall of kingdoms. And now the possible invasion of Quel'Thalas itself.
The storm gathering across the world was growing larger than any of them imagined. And somewhere far away in the frozen wastes of Northrend, the prince of Lordaeron continued walking toward his tragic destiny.
The golden forests of Quel'Thalas shimmered beneath the gentle sunlight of early afternoon. Ancient trees with leaves like molten gold stretched high toward the sky, their branches swaying peacefully with the soft breeze. Crystal-clear rivers flowed quietly beneath elegant bridges, and the white spires of Silvermoon City glowed faintly in the distance like jewels resting upon the land.
To outsiders, the kingdom appeared eternal. Untouchable. Protected by powerful magic and the might of the high elves.
For nearly seven thousand years, Quel'Thalas had endured wars, invasions, and the passing of countless generations of other races. Yet its borders had rarely been threatened.
Its people had grown confident. Perhaps too confident. Because within the quiet halls of Windrunner Village, one man understood that this peace would soon be shattered.
Inside the large study room overlooking the village, Leylin stood before a table covered with arcane diagrams and maps. Several glowing magical formations floated in the air around him, projecting faint blue images of the surrounding regions.
These were detection arrays—devices designed to monitor magical disturbances across the northern lands. Since the fall of Stratholme, the readings had grown increasingly unstable.
The rise of necromantic energy. The spread of plague. The subtle distortions in the magical currents that flowed through the Eastern Kingdoms.
To most mages, these changes might seem insignificant. But to Leylin, they were unmistakable signs. The Scourge was growing. And eventually… It would come north.
His gaze slowly shifted toward the glowing symbol marking the sacred heart of the high elven kingdom.
Sunwell. A source of magical power unlike anything else in the world. If the Scourge discovered it… The consequences would be catastrophic.
Leylin exhaled slowly.
"Then we prepare."
Later that afternoon, several individuals gathered inside the manor's meeting hall. The atmosphere in the room felt unusually serious.
Standing near the table were; Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Quel'Thalas; Vereesa Windrunner, the youngest sister and also a trained ranger; Lirath Windrunner, the youngest brother of the Windrunner; Aminel, dual specialization mage who listens to Leylin and is his enchantment teacher; Tyr'ganal, a dual specialization mage who became buddies with Leylin through the arcane construct competition and held missions together, now his trusted second in command together with Aminel.
Jaina also stood quietly beside the window, listening. Leylin placed several maps across the table.
"These are the regions most vulnerable if an invasion comes from the south."
Sylvanas studied the map carefully.
"You're certain the undead would march through Eversong Woods?"
Leylin nodded.
"It is the most direct route toward the Sunwell."
Sylvanas' expression hardened slightly.
"If that is their objective, the rangers will hold the forest line."
Leylin shook his head gently.
"Even the greatest rangers cannot stop an army that does not tire, does not eat, and does not fear death."
The room grew silent. Sylvanas crossed her arms.
"Then what do you suggest?"
Leylin began outlining his plans.
"First… we strengthen early detection."
He looked toward Aminel.
"Aminel, I want arcane monitoring arrays placed across the southern borders."
She nodded immediately.
"I can deploy several within a few days."
Leylin turned toward Tyr'ganal.
"Tyr'ganal, you will assist with reinforcing the magical barriers protecting Windrunner Village."
The young elf nodded seriously.
"Understood."
Then Leylin looked toward the remaining Windrunner family.
"Sylvanas, Vereesa, Lirath… the rangers must quietly increase patrols."
Sylvanas raised an eyebrow.
"You want to mobilize the ranger forces without alerting the court?"
Leylin nodded.
"For now, yes."
Vereesa looked slightly confused.
"Why secretly?"
Leylin gave a quiet sigh.
"Because the court of Silvermoon City will not listen."
The ruling nobles of Quel'Thalas had grown complacent after centuries of peace. Many believed the magical barrier surrounding their lands made them untouchable.
To them, the problems of Lordaeron were distant matters. Human affairs. Even if Sylvanas had attempted to warn them.
But the response had been predictable. Dismissal. Arrogance.
Sylvanas clenched her jaw slightly.
"The council refuses to believe the undead could threaten Quel'Thalas."
Leylin nodded.
"And they will continue refusing… until it is too late."
Leylin had not remained idle. He had already spoken with two of the most respected magisters in the kingdom. His mentors: Belo'vir Salonar, Grand Magister of Quel'Thalas. And Magister Nallorath.
Both had listened carefully to his concerns. Both had examined the magical readings. Both understood that something was indeed wrong. But even their influence had limits.
The ruling council of Silvermoon City remained stubborn. The nobles simply could not imagine a force capable of threatening their ancient kingdom.
As Nallorath had told Leylin earlier:
"Fear cannot convince those who believe themselves immortal."
Unfortunately, not everyone remained silent. Within the elegant halls of Silvermoon, another voice had begun spreading rumors.
A voice belonging to Dar'Khan Drathir. A respected magister… and a man whose ambitions ran far deeper than most realized.
Dar'Khan had begun speaking openly within the noble courts.
"Leylin has lost his mind. The supposed disaster he speaks of is nothing but wild speculation. Undead armies invading Quel'Thalas? Absurd!"
Many nobles eagerly accepted these words. It was far easier to believe the kingdom was safe. Far easier than accepting the possibility of catastrophe.
And so whispers spread through Silvermoon. Leylin the alarmist. Leylin the mad researcher. Leylin the paranoid mage.
Dar'Khan smiled quietly as the rumors spread. Because the more the court dismissed Leylin…
Back in Windrunner Village, the meeting slowly came to an end. Each person now understood their role in the quiet preparations.
Sylvanas stood near the doorway, her crimson eyes focused on Leylin.
"You believe the invasion is inevitable."
Leylin answered calmly.
"Yes."
She nodded slowly.
"Then we prepare."
The Ranger-General of Quel'Thalas turned toward the golden forest outside. Even if the nobles refused to act… The rangers would. Because when the storm finally arrived… Someone would need to stand between the Scourge and the Sunwell.
And far away in the frozen wastes of Northrend, the prince of Lordaeron continued his march toward the cursed blade Frostmourne. The fate of kingdoms was already moving toward its inevitable collision.
And when those two paths finally crossed… The golden forests of Quel'Thalas would burn.