Kael'thas took a deep breath and nodded. "Rhodes, we are currently making our way toward the Alliance camp near the ruins of Dalaran. Grand Marshal Garithos's forces are stationed there. Though... I don't hold much hope for those human bureaucrats. His attitude toward non-human races is less than welcoming." There was a trace of suppressed frustration in the Prince's voice.
According to the intelligence Kael'thas had gathered, this Grand Marshal Garithos was notoriously hostile toward anyone who wasn't human. Dwarves and Gnomes alike had nothing but poor reports regarding the man's temperament.
"Garithos? Who does he think he is? When the tigers are away, the monkeys play at being king," Rhodes snorted coldly. "That self-important fool... Kael, you needn't worry about him. Since I have returned, the command of the remnants of Lordaeron will no longer be in the hands of such a narrow-minded man. P
rincess Calia is in Kalimdor, safe and sound. As her appointed Regent, I have the duty and the authority to reorganize our forces. The Alliance needs every champion willing to fight the Scourge—especially you and your Blood Elves."
Rhodes dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand. One of his goals in returning was to strip this so-called Grand Marshal of his title. If the Alliance needed a Marshal, it wouldn't be Garithos. After all, was Uther not suited for such a role? Or even himself?
"Regent... I had almost forgotten you held that title," Kael'thas remarked. "That is indeed unexpected and welcome news. If you are the one leading the Alliance military, the prospects of cooperation are far brighter than I imagined." At least Rhodes understood the value of the Blood Elves, unlike certain human nobles blinded by prejudice.
"We will face the coming challenges together, Kael," Rhodes said firmly. "The Scourge is our common enemy. Now, take me to your camp. We need to discuss the current situation and our next moves in detail. And... I want to know the specifics of your difficulties regarding... the magic addiction." Rhodes lowered his voice at the end.
Kael'thas's expression sharpened. He gave Rhodes a long look before nodding and gesturing for him to follow. "This way, my old friend. Welcome to the temporary camp of the Sin'dorei. It is humble, but I hope it will not offend the dignity of a Lord Regent."
Rhodes smiled and followed the Prince into the heart of the camp, with Jaina and Maiev trailing behind. They passed through rows of weary but disciplined Blood Elf warriors who saluted their Prince while casting curious glances at Rhodes, Jaina, and especially the striking figure of Maiev.
At the center of the camp, several large tents served as a command post. Inside, Kael'thas dismissed the guards, leaving only Capernian and a few core magi advisors.
"As you can see, Rhodes, we have a grave problem." Kael'thas cast a simple soundproofing ward, his voice heavy with fatigue. "Our situation is dire. The destruction of the Sunwell didn't just take away our source of power; it took the pillar of our existence. Our people have developed a hunger for magic—a 'magic addiction.' It is a terrifying curse."
He continued, "It erodes my people from within. Without Arcane energy to replenish them, many are becoming weak, erratic, and even... beginning to show signs of a horrific degeneration. They lose their minds and their beauty, turning into something hideous and nauseating. It is hard to imagine our once-beautiful people becoming such monsters. We must find a new source of energy or a way to alleviate this. Otherwise, even without the Scourge, the Sin'dorei will destroy themselves."
The weight of leadership, the loss of his father and kingdom, and the literal starvation of his race were visible in Kael'thas's eyes. It was a vulnerability Rhodes had never seen in the proud prince before.
"We predicted this ten thousand years ago," Maiev snorted. "You should have abandoned the pursuit of magic long ago. Your ancestors refused to listen. If you hadn't created the Sunwell, none of this would be happening today."
"Lady, my family records contain accounts of your kind," Kael'thas frowned. "We chose to leave to pursue the path of magic, but that does not mean we were wrong."
"Face reality. Magic is a curse to our kind. Perhaps the destruction of the Sunwell is a blessing in disguise; you might finally learn not to depend on it," Maiev retorted. The Blood Elf advisors bristled at her words, their faces darkening, but they held their tongues out of respect for Rhodes.
"Alright, Maiev, please," Rhodes said, shooting her a warning look. "The Blood Elf race is facing an existential crisis. They need help now more than ever."
Rhodes knew the history well—the divide between the Highborne and the commoners ten thousand years ago had been brutal. The Highborne had treated others as slaves, and their reckless use of magic had nearly invited the Burning Legion to destroy Azeroth. Even Illidan, once a hero, had been imprisoned for ten millennia for recreating a Well of Eternity.
"Then give them help, Archdruid Rhodes," Maiev suggested. "Perhaps you can teach them the Druidic path. Let them use the power of nature and find faith in the wild."
The title "Archdruid" made Kael'thas pause. He knew exactly what that rank implied—it was a title reserved for the most venerable and powerful leaders of the Night Elves. Yet Rhodes had only been in Kalimdor for a few months.
He remembered Rhodes as a mage—a man driven by the pursuit of power. Even though Rhodes could wield the Light, Kael'thas sensed he used it through magical manipulation rather than the genuine faith of a Paladin or Priest.
"I understand your worry, Kael. That is why I hurried to find you," Rhodes said. "We must solve the magic addiction."
"You have a way?" Hope flared in Kael'thas's eyes. Capernian and the other advisors leaned in, holding their breath. Jaina looked at Rhodes too, knowing he always had a surprise in store.
"There is a traitor among the Night Elves who was imprisoned for ten thousand years because he created a second Well of Eternity," Rhodes explained with a smile. "He possesses vials of the original Well's water. I can demand a vial from him. With it, you could reconstruct the Sunwell."
"But until then," Rhodes continued, "you must endure. Tell me, have you tried absorbing other forms of energy? For instance, the Light?"
Rhodes opened his palm, and a sliver of pure, warm Holy Light gathered there. It felt entirely different from Arcane energy—gentle, yet brimming with power. In the original timeline, it was the essence of the Naaru, M'uru, that eventually purified the Sunwell into a font of both Holy and Arcane energy.
"The Light?" Kael'thas sighed. "I'm afraid that is difficult. We had many priests among us, but since the Sunwell's fall, most have lost their connection to the Light."
"I can help your priests regain that connection," Rhodes said, dispersing the Light. "I can provide them with Holy Light energy to absorb, at least to alleviate the symptoms for now."
Rhodes's plan was similar to the future Blood Knights: siphoning energy from a Light-based being. Fortunately, he had a "free" supply of Holy Light Elementals at his disposal. It would be a temporary fix, but the true salvation would remain the waters of the Well of Eternity.