Chapter 706

Chapter 706: The Importance of Language

Jesse hadn’t expected the Sun King to appear here personally. Many elves called out his name and the title "High King." Numerous elves high in the Farstriders’ abode raised their cups to him enthusiastically, and several Magi even approached to bow and speak with him.

Anasterian didn’t ignore the elves’ warmth. He responded to each as best he could, including those paying respects from above, acting not like a king, but like a kindly family elder.

Used to how nobles treated kings in Stormwind and Lordaeron, Jesse felt somewhat out of place witnessing this scene.

But considering the Sun King had ruled Quel’Thalas for over two thousand eight hundred years—likely making him the oldest being in Quel’Thalas—his name had become permanently bound to titles like Sun King and King of Quel’Thalas over such vast time.

More than two thousand years ago, King Anasterian himself had ordered elven mages to Strom City to teach humans magic, helping defeat the Amani Empire’s invasion. To humans, he was already a figure of myth and legend.

The Sun King was nearly the only elf Jesse had met whose age showed on his features. His face lacked the usual smoothness, resembling a human in their thirties or forties, and pure white hair flowed over his shoulders. Yet his stride remained strong, his bearing showing no hint of frailty.

Like every other elf, he glanced over while interacting with those nearby. Spotting Jesse, he gave a slight nod. To Jesse’s surprise, his eyes were golden, radiating the Sunwell’s light.

Greed couldn’t help muttering, "The elven king’s looking at us, Jesse."

"Elven king," Kaffir hissed. "That’s a title that could earn you a lashing, Greed." Greed corrected, "King of Quel’dorai."

"The prince you seek is over there. See?" Kaffir pointed to a tall elf beside the Sun King.

Jesse looked where he indicated. Amidst the crowd around the Sun King, that elf seemed less striking, though his brilliant golden hair made him easily recognizable.

He looked almost a copy of the Sun King, handsome as a statue, yet appearing younger and more vibrant. However… he differed significantly from Jesse’s memory of Kael’thas Sunstrider.

Kael’thas wasn’t wearing his signature blood mage robes, nor did three green magical orbs float above him. He simply wore a plain silver robe, arms crossed, chatting and smiling with the surrounding Magi.

He seemed to be enjoying the gathering, quite relaxed, occasionally glancing towards the high points of the Farstriders’ abode as if anticipating something. His gaze swept over and noticed Jesse looking. He too gave a polite nod.

"That human, Nathanos, became Ranger Lord without the Sun King or prince attending," Kaffir remarked. "An outlander in Quel’Thalas is one thing, but granted such high honor…"

He glanced at Jesse, raising his long eyebrows. "But tradition dictates they should appear. So for Vereesa, they’ll surely make this grander, to compensate the Windrunner Family and the Farstriders."

"So that’s it," Jesse said, stealing a look towards Nathanos. Sure enough, his expression seemed strained. The horn sounded again from the heights of the Farstriders’ abode, and silence fell.

Nobles, mages, Farstriders, and priests instinctively cleared the plaza before the abode, forming a circle. The Sun King and prince stood to one side, watching the entrance, as Vereesa returned to Jesse’s side.

Then Sylvanas emerged from the abode, now clad in the Farstrider General’s battle attire.

She looked down upon the front rank of Farstrider sentinels standing spear-straight and announced something loudly in elven. Jesse couldn’t understand, though he caught one word at the end: Sylvanas spoke Vereesa’s name.

Every elf near the abode turned their gaze. Vereesa smiled at Jesse and walked towards the plaza’s center. Jesse could tell she was deliberately restraining her pace, walking slower than usual.

Vereesa stood before Sylvanas, meeting her sister’s gaze earnestly. Sylvanas didn’t look back intently or show particular joy. She simply announced something formally to her in elven.

Yet, sensitive to emotions, Jesse sensed the Ranger-General was suppressing near-uncontrollable excitement and eagerness – detectable even to this warlock at a distance.

She truly loved her sister deeply.

Finally, Sylvanas draped a gold-and-green magical cloak over Vereesa’s shoulders and took a deep breath. Utter silence enveloped the gathering.

The Ranger-General murmured, like an incantation:

*Ana’lfranal, Alar’anas, Ana’ashal. Dinaliel Quel’Thalas, Dinalas’theramadinelore. Belon’aheluru, Belore’delore.*

Jesse heard every syllable clearly, but understood none of it.

Vereesa knelt before Sylvanas, whispering, "Quel’Thalas, Sass, Ashal."

Congratulatory cheers erupted around the Farstriders’ abode. Now, Jesse profoundly regretted not learning Sayaad Language properly.

"Witnessed by Fran’alar," Kaffir murmured beside him. "I grant you Alar’anas, the title of Ranger Lord. May you guard Quel’Thalas, guard the people’s justice. Bear your responsibility, child of the sun."

"The Mantle of Fran’alar," he added. "The dream of every Farstrider. I can recite that passage perfectly, yet see no hope of promotion myself, Jesse."

"You don’t seize chances," Greed retorted. "If you’d volunteered to help us in Kalimdor instead of letting Vereesa Windrunner sneak out, you’d be standing there now."

"Hah," Kaffir shot back. "Go die with you outsiders? Hard pass."

"See?" Greed said. "That’s why she’s up there, and you’re down here spouting nonsense."

Kaffir’s face darkened. He crossed his arms, staring at the newly made Ranger Lord in the plaza’s center, and fell silent.