The life of a Kirin Tor student was a busy one, with barely enough time for studies, running errands, and finishing up on projects and homework. Jaina Proudmoore found little dullness in the work though, as she always looked forward to gleaning every tidbit of knowledge from her daily life as a student of the arcane arts.

Her mentors and tutors happily obliged her quest for knowledge, finding much potential in the young noble. The Kirin Tor was ever keen to aid such promising talents after all. Jaina had quickly become adept at - if not outright mastering - all that she learned, and had excelled enough in her lessons that she was already working on subjects ahead of her year to sate her desire for learning.

Despite her achievements, Jaina could not help a small tinge of envy whenever she saw a particular student under the personal tutelage of the enigmatic Archmage Krasus. Kyle Daelam was barely older than her, yet something about him had drawn the venerable elf out of his sabbatical. Or was it that he managed to persuade the archmage out of his break?

Then again, there were many curious things about the young new king of Alterac. Somehow, they discovered and verified a bastard child of the late and treacherous King Aiden Perenolde, or a bastard of one of his close relatives. The rumors were still all over the place on that part. Regardless, he was deemed legitimate enough to inherit Alterac, and that he was told of it on the same day he was inducted into the Kirin Tor as a student.

Jaina remembered seeing so many notable figures of the Alliance crowding over the confused boy at the entrance of the academy, her father amongst them, most wearing stern and even harsh gazes. The stink of treachery from the deposed king of Alterac still lingered strongly in everyone’s minds, enough so that the boy was allowed to keep his lowborn family name instead of being officially a Perenolde.

From what her father told her, the new king of Alterac would be crowned only upon graduating from the Kirin Tor, since he had refused to drop out. No doubt that the idea of a mage king sat poorly for some of the kings of the Alliance, but support from Dalaran and Quel’Thalas especially had quelled some of that sentiment. Besides, there was something to be said about having stronger neighbors after all the madness from the Second War.

In the meantime, Kyle would be allowed to input his suggestions on governing Alterac, which would be slowly rebuilt with the help of a council of regents selected by the Alliance. Assuming he actually had the time and opportunity to do so, being buried in his studies as a mage here in Dalaran.

It was clear that the regency council served more as a backup should the new king be found wanting in any way, and a compromise that checked the ambitions of Stromgarde, Gilneas, and even Lordaeron and Dalaran to an extent.

Every time she thought more about his circumstance, Jaina’s envy at Kyle’s special treatment was quickly smothered by sympathy.

“Hello, Kyle,” she greeted as she passed him in the quiet hallways of the Academy of Arcane Sciences.

“Lady Jaina,” came the usual reply from the raven-haired boy, along with a deferential nod as he paused to pay his respects to her. It was mildly annoying, but by now Jaina was sure he was doing it as much out of habit as because he found her clear irritation amusing.

The novice rolled her eyes, just as she did the last dozen or so times when they had this conversation. “Please, we’re both students here. You can call me Jaina, you know.”

In response, he offered the same deprecating smirk as he always did, his silver-grey eyes barely hiding his amusement. “I could, but there are ears all around, and I do not need your father, the Lord Admiral, to find any cause to dislike me any more than he already does, Lady Jaina.”

Jaina sighed aloud, shaking her head at this new noble’s paranoia. Apparently he thought that his new position (and very existence) was on a precarious ledge, and so dealt with everyone with excessive deference, as if any one act of disrespect would see him cast out of Dalaran and carved apart by the lords and kings that would be his peers.

Not that his worries were completely unfounded, admittedly.

To be a bastard legitimized and raised to the seat of power was problematic enough in the intricate game of nobility and diplomacy, but to be a Perenolde, a name now associated with traitors and untrustworthy cowards? To be lord of a broken realm whose lands are contested by at least two others? And to not just inherit a tainted family name, but to also be a prospective mage, a class of people who are regarded with almost as much suspicion and fear from the Light-worshiping common folk?

That many students pitied Kyle rather than mock or bully him spoke volumes of how bad a situation he was stuck in.

“It’s been months already, and no one’s come to do whatever it is you’re afraid they’ll do. Surely you can afford to relax a little?”

Kyle’s smirk returned. “I wish I could, but gossip travels fast and far. Excuse me, Lady Jaina, but I should not keep Archmage Krasus waiting too long.” He hurried off at a brisk pace, not letting her get the last word in.

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As annoying as ever.

Jaina sighed once more before she glanced down at the small scroll Kyle had seemingly left behind on the floor by her feet. How he managed to surreptitiously drop them was just one more mystery in the pile of secrets of the heir of Alterac. With well-practiced movements, Jaina ‘accidentally’ dropped some books, and as she recovered them she picked the scroll up.

When she returned to her dorm, the blond student smiled at the contents of the scroll. It was an abbreviated summary on advanced arcane channeling, focusing on efficiency and compact spellwork for faster and less exhaustive spellcasting. Expert level stuff, but Jaina’s own diligence, and the other scrolls Kyle had smuggled to her up until now, would theoretically have prepared her for this. She’d have to be subtle about implementing the knowledge into her own spellcraft, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d have done so.

*****

It was interesting being a teacher once more after so long. Archmage Krasus found the experience novel, but not so novel that he would consider returning to the classrooms and lecture halls. His queen might tease him about his duties as a mortal being greater than that of her consort, but after Kyle’s little revelation, Krasus knew that properly training the boy was a matter of import, no matter how annoying the task might be.

“Master Krasus.” Said boy appeared in the private lab just in time for his scheduled lessons. Arcane theory…or something along those lines. Krasus didn’t really care much about that.

The elven archmage regarded his student with a slight incline of his head. “Kyle. If one weren’t so knowledgeable about your method of thinking, one might assume you were attempting to court Jaina Proudmoore with your antics.”

“It’s a minor thing to redirect her curiosity, as you well know,” the boy replied with a smile. “Plus it’s not a bad thing to try and gain a friend in the long run.”

“It isn’t,” Krasus agreed, “though one might wonder why you limit such stunts only for her, considering your rather…reclusive behavior.”

At this, Kyle’s smile gave way to a small frown. “Well then, it’s a good thing that most magi don’t notice such things, right?”

“Indeed.” Krasus beckoned his student towards the ritual circle at the back end of the lab. “Come, we are expected.”

Master and student entered the circle, and with a surge of magic from Krasus, they vanished from Dalaran. At almost the same moment, both rematerialized in a great cavern of ice and rock. The air was cold, but glyphs kept the worst of the frost at bay.

“Ah, there you are,” rumbled a cheery voice as the two magi stepped out of a replica of the ritual circle back in Krasus’ laboratory.

“Vasyrgos,” Kyle casually greeted with a nod at the cavern’s owner.

The blue dragon lounging in the center of the cavern slowly rose up on its four limbs and imitated a feline stretch, even opening his fanged maw wide to let out a yawn. “Good, I was getting bored observing the leylines.”

“You’re always bored observing the leylines.”

“Fortunately, that’s held true so far.”

Kyle stopped just a few paces outside the teleportation circle, watching the towering dragon move to one end of the cavern as Krasus continued walking towards the vast space made for him. In just a few steps, the elven archmage morphed - or perhaps more accurately un-morphed - into a dragon, similar in shape and size to Vasyrgos (Vas would argue that he was the bigger one) but was covered in red and yellow scales, rather than the blue and white of his counterpart.

In those few steps, Krasus reverted back to Korialstrasz, prime consort of Alexstrasza, the Aspect of Life.

Korialstrasz stood beside Vasyrgos without a word, too focused on the task at hand to trade banter with his lighthearted cousin. The two dragons settled down and brought their attention to the boy before them. The blue dragon gave a scholarly nod as the glyphs etched onto the cavern walls began to glow. “Now… Where did we last left off?”

Kyle raised his right arm up, allowing the student’s sleeve to fall off and expose his forearm. Despite training all his senses, Korialstrasz still couldn’t detect whatever caused an intricately crafted golden bracer to so suddenly appear around the young human’s limb.

Neither did the dragon notice anything askew in the magical fabric around Kyle as his eyes glowed in a dim white-blue. Then a short jet of the same light shot out from the bracer above his hand to form a blade. Kyle’s lips formed a smile but otherwise didn’t move at all as his words rang vividly in Korialstrasz’s head with a faint, reverbrating echo.

“We were finding out if this magic is at all related to the Void?”

And still not a single glyph reacted to that.

At least by now, the dragon masquerading as an archmage knew enough to be too annoyed by the mystery.