"Where did you graduate from? The Arcane Academy of Menethil, or the University of Stratholme? Have you ever been to Dalaran?"

"I… ahem," Jess cleared his throat, "I studied at the church school in Lordaeron."

"Ah."

Marin set down his pen, resting his hands on the desk, and looked at Jess.

Jess was all too familiar with this look; the interview was not going in his favor.

"So why are you applying for the position of assistant? You don't quite meet my requirements."

"For the money," Jess replied.

"Honesty," Marin glanced at his notebook, "Mr. Saseo. But I do wish those whom I employ to have some fundamental knowledge. It makes communication easier, especially since the job will inevitably involve some complicated situations... I'm not prejudiced against your background, after all, you've undoubtedly contributed much to the reconstruction efforts of Stormwind, and for that, I must offer my deepest respect."

"You could try asking me a few questions, Master," Jess said. "I think I am up to the task."

"Alright." The mage glanced over at a bookcase not far away, then said, "Tell me about 'the Kirin Tor', you should know what 'the Kirin Tor' is."

"Which aspect?"

"Just talk, or rather, introduce the concept of 'the Kirin Tor'."

After saying this, Marin leaned back in his chair, seemingly preparing to enjoy the show.

"Understood," Jess took a deep breath, "The Kirin Tor is the mage council of Dalaran, governed by a six-person committee, and is among the strongest assemblies of wizardry elites in the world. Historically, the Kirin Tor was an organization removed from ordinary politics, but later became the ruling body of Dalaran. The Kirin Tor has had a friendly alliance with the elven city of Quel'Thalas for over two millennia, including elven members such as Kael'thas Sunstrider in the six-person committee, the Blood Elves'..."

"Wait."

Marin interrupted Jess's long speech, furrowing his brow, pondering over something.

"Isn't Prince Kael'thas no longer a member of the Kirin Tor's six-person council? When did this happen? And what are Blood Elves? Are you trying to say, Sindorei? Indeed, 'sin' means lineage, blood in Thalassian. Sindorei literally means offspring of noble lineage, of course, it could also translate to 'Elves of Blood', but we should not understand it that way. In fact, I'm not sure where you've read this translation..."

Jess realized he had inadvertently mentioned events yet to occur, but fortunately, the old mage had confused himself.

"So, the Kirin Tor has a history of more than two millennia? I wasn't aware they existed at the time of Dalaran's founding." Marin stood up and walked to the bookcase, pulling out a purple book marked with the Eye of the Arcane and flipped through it.

"Well... The Kirin Tor was indeed an establishment formed in the early days of Dalaran."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

He nodded, shaking the book in his hand, and asked, "Have you read this book, 'History of the Kirin Tor and Dalaran'?"

"I have read some," Jess said resolutely, though it was the first time he had heard of the book.

Marin returned the book to its place, coughed, and walked back to his desk, sitting down before promptly asking, "Talk to me about dragons, dragonkind. I find dragons quite intriguing. For instance, do you believe dragons are real? Or are they merely a bluff by the orcs to intimidate the Alliance forces?"

"Dragons certainly exist," Jess said. "Many have mentioned red dragons rampaging along the coast of Hillsbrad Foothills."

"Are you from Lordaeron, indeed? Have you ever seen a red dragon with your own eyes?" inquired Marin. "Did you come here with the refugees from Stormwind?"

"I did not witness it personally, only the wrecks of the ships that the red dragons had burned."

"Red dragons are vile and ferocious," Marin nodded. "It is better not to see them in person."

As one acquainted with the backstory, Jess was well aware that although red dragons are formidable magical beasts, they are also guardians of life, with the Red Dragonflight's matriarch Alexstrasza being the protectress of all life on Azeroth.

The proud red dragons became the orcs' slaves and mounts because of Alexstrasza's capture by the Demon Soul, a vile ancient artifact that contained the powers of all dragonflights.

Using the queen's agony, the orcs forced all red dragons to war on their behalf. To this day, Alexstrasza is still oppressed by the dreadful artifact in the remote Wetlands, in the cursed, abandoned dwarf city of Grim Batol.

Jess knew this full well but was uncertain about Marin's intent with his comment—did he truly consider red dragons evil, or was it a test of his knowledge about the dragonkind?

"Uh, Master."

Jess spoke cautiously, and Marin's eyes widened slightly, his lips parted in anticipation, which confirmed Jess's assumption.

"The red dragons' involvement in the orc conflict might have had other reasons. After all, there were few incidents of red dragons attacking human or elven settlements before the Dark Portal... They mostly kept to themselves."

"So, Mr. Jess, what do you think the red dragons' aggression is related to?" Marin asked eagerly, his excitement palpable between his words.

The Demon Soul should not be something a commoner would know about, nor would many of the elite mages within the Kirin Tor, who firmly believed it to be merely an ancient myth.

Jess absolutely should not divulge such extravagant forbidden knowledge; he just shook his head.

The mage wrote something in his notebook and then said, "Mr. Jess, thank you very much for your visit. We've had quite a long conversation, let's leave it here."

Until leaving the doorway of Edwin Marin's house, Jess felt a daze.

If he had told the mage further about his understanding of red dragons, securing the assistant position would have been a sure bet. But that entailed a considerable risk, revealing knowledge that his identity and age could not possibly have obtained.

It would have been okay if a friend or an ordinary passerby had learned this—after all, most people know a distorted rural legend, and ordinary folks wouldn't find it strange—but the other party was a mage.

Jess heaved a sigh of relief, knowing that now wasn't the time to be too conspicuous. If others were to learn of his foresight, it would not bode well for his future.

Thinking this, he worried somewhat that the Bronze Dragonflight, keepers of time, might suddenly appear and end him with their strange magic.

Sure that he hadn't triggered a time-stream crisis, he lingered in the Mage Quarter for a while longer. The garden's ambiance and the calm atmosphere helped to soothe his mind.

As for the interview, no discussion of remuneration or job content had occurred, nor had there been much to do with Jess's capabilities. It was highly likely to fail.

All that was left was to settle his heart and not overly long for what was not his.

Having come this far, why not look elsewhere and see if any work was available? Casting a wide net was bound to find something, even if it was just hourly wage work; he wasn't picky under the circumstances.

At two tailoring shops, the moment they heard someone was seeking employment rather than purchasing, their faces soured, and they ushered him out. One of the tailors, who hailed from Darrowshire, was even less cordial than the one at Duncan's, offering no livelihood to a fellow countryman.

At that moment, a sign in the alley caught his attention.

"The Slaughtered Lamb."