Dalaran.
Lin realized after just a week of classes that the studies at the Academy of Magic were focused more on the practical application of sorcery, regardless of whether it was combat magic, the art of illusions, or healing. After all, war leaves its mark even on peaceful educational institutions. But this concerned him only so much: in the end, a mage of his level could perfectly well draw theory from books, fortunately he had enough experience to wade through the excessive intellectualizing of authorities who were unquestionable among Human sorcerers. This was what he did, spending all his free time in The Library: practice could be brushed up later, but if for some reason he was kicked out of the academy, gaining access to the necessary knowledge would be problematic.
On the other hand, it must be noted that his nightly vigils in what turned out to be a twenty-four-hour library allowed him to learn much that was new and look at some things from a different angle. Although, if taking the past Illidan Stormrage specifically, the powerful High Elf sorcerer would never, for example, have started measuring changes in a spell's efficiency coefficient depending on the environment. It had always been obvious to him without any theories that trying to summon fire under water was a task not for an ordinary mage, but the fact that by spending mere scraps of Mana to humidify the air, he would lower the power of an opponent's fire spells by a certain percentage had somehow escaped him. Or vice versa—by adding just a little oxygen to the air and removing excess moisture from it, one could gain a certain boost to the power of one's own fire spells. It was from such nuances that the victory of Human mages was forged. And more than one book was dedicated to such tricks with detailed descriptions of experimental confirmations of theoretical calculations...
"The very case where you lack strength and Subtlety comes to the rescue," Lin muttered, turning the last page of another work on the principles of the interaction of lightning and water—and it was worth noting, a very successful interaction.
Stretching until his joints cracked, the boy winced—lately he had slightly neglected his physical development. Mentally vowing to do a full workout tomorrow morning, he wetted his throat from a glass of water and began to size up the stack of volumes next in line. Somehow, his gaze slid of its own accord to the table where several (from one to five, depending on the time of day and their mood) girls usually settled, who had so heatedly discussed his reading method on his first day visiting this local temple of knowledge. At the moment, all five were present.
By the way, the four gossips did not interest him; the fifth drew his attention—at first glance, an ordinary girl with blue eyes and blonde hair. Look around and you'd realize every third girl here was like that. Well, or he didn't understand anything about the beauty of Human girls. In any case, it was by no means the teenager's appearance that interested him, nor her noble origin (she turned out to be a princess of one of the seven Human kingdoms—Kul Tiras), nor even the fact that she alone wore a gold medallion while her friends were "silveries." Once, when this same Jaina, having returned from holidays, joined her friends at the library table, Lin glanced that way and simply could not tear his eyes away from this student... Which, incidentally, did not go unnoticed and led to mocking comments from her cheerful friends. However, the reasons for such interest did not lie in the plane that the young maidens first thought of...
That reason was the problem! And it was a very, very significant and yet unknown variable—he knew this person from somewhere, yet he was ready to swear by anything that he was seeing her for the first time in his life! For a mage who could remember his entire life almost by the second, this was an unthinkable fact. And how much of that life had there been? Only twelve years. He even seriously considered the hypothesis that he knew her in the past of Illidan Stormrage, but had forgotten while his soul wandered in oblivion. But this assumption held no water: how could a High Elf and a young girl be connected when her race didn't even exist in nature ten thousand years ago? The option remained that he had met her, even if indirectly, in this life. Confirming this version took an entire night of reviewing his memory, ending in a negative result. But he definitely knew her from somewhere! And this lack of logic and clarity irritated Lin greatly, throwing him off the track of his established study process at the slightest mention of Jaina or their crossing paths at the academy. And they met in the libraries almost every time! Thus, he would very much like to know how this was possible, what it could even mean, and most importantly—why he was so drawn to find the answer?! Though he had an answer to the last question—he had always hated riddles and sought to uncover the truth.
Meanwhile, he was distracted from the memories of his research by girlish laughter, sounding a bit louder than usual and therefore noticeably standing out from the general noise consisting of the rustle of pages, the scratching of pens, and the whispers of students. Lin returned to reality and realized that he had been openly staring for quite a long time at that very stumbling block with blue eyes, which were staring back at him with indignation. The laughter was generated by the malicious friends, who were greatly amused by the interest of a somewhat capable but low-born peasant in a princess and a talented student of Antonidas himself—the head of the Kirin Tor.
Lin was in no mood for laughter, so his lost gaze, with the help of a raised eyebrow, turned into an inquisitive expression on his face. He seemed to ask: "Well, and what are you staring at me for?" The indignation in Jaina's gaze decupled, and red spots ran across her face, which clearly testified not to a sudden embarrassment that had seized her... Lin shrugged and returned to his books. Curiosity was one thing, but knowledge wouldn't appear in his head by itself.
However, after some half an hour, he was stuck on the girl again. This time he was "awakened" by the princess's own intent return gaze, not her friends' comments. Lin sighed, broke the visual contact, and buried himself in his book. "Maybe I've fallen in love with her? Love at first sight, like with Tyrande? No, I don't seem to feel anything like that... Though I'm already starting to doubt: in any case, applying the 'No Elf... Human—no problem' approach causes a stormy protest in my soul... And it's not even clear in which direction to move next to untangle this knot of riddles... It's like some kind of curse..."
At the last thought, he froze, not noticing that he was again staring into the face of the individual of interest. "Why didn't I think of the most obvious option? No, of course not a curse—there are no such curses, and I would be able to tell by the aura if I had been cursed. But some other magical influence as the cause of my interest, something more subtle... No, something doesn't add up—interest is one thing, but I really do know her from somewhere besides! I'm absolutely certain no one told me she was a princess and her name was Jaina—and to plant such knowledge in my head, and in such a way that I couldn't find the ends, is something beyond the capabilities of ordinary mages. Argh! A little more, and I'll conclude that Sargeras made a joke like this! Except I never noticed prophetic abilities in him regarding events ten thousand years in the future... Maybe the tricks of the bronze dragons?.."
"Ahem, ahem!"
Lin focused his gaze, and it turned out that while he was immersed in himself, Jaina had approached the table and, crossing her arms over her chest, was staring at him with a dissatisfied look. Since he hadn't taken his eyes off the girl's face as she approached, his head was tilted back.
"How can I help?" the boy turned his head and pushed back his chair, taking a more comfortable pose before the looming interlocutor.
"You'll help me if you explain what the Demon you want from me and stop staring!"
While they scrutinized each other in the hanging silence, and the princess's friends listened intently, making a strong show of not being the least bit interested in the content of the conversation, Lin himself was considering a spontaneously arisen idea. After all, if he didn't know the origins of his interest, perhaps Jaina herself could lift the veil of mystery? Therefore, he decided to honestly confess the reason that prompted him to keep looking at the girl.
"I know you from somewhere and I can't figure out from where. At the same time, I'm sure I saw you for the first time only a few days ago right here in the academy. And I assure you, it pisses me off more than my staring pisses you off. Maybe you have some thoughts on the matter?"
As soon as the "copper" began to speak, Jaina opened her mouth for an angry retort, but as she processed the answer, she decided to abandon that plan. And no wonder: as far as Lin could understand from the whispering, the main version of the girl group was "the peasant's forbidden love for the princess," and therefore, in response to a confession, the girl was already preparing to burst into a fiery speech to show the full difference between their positions and a suggestion as to exactly where he could shove his love. Such a performance, given his question, would have been out of place and would have exposed her as a silly girl obsessed with romance and looking at everything through a prism depicting a prince on a white horse.
The next silence did not last long. And if at first Jaina didn't know what to answer to this strange question other than a truthful "I don't know you, leave me alone, or you'll regret it!", then when she realized that what attracted the unknown boy to her (provided he told the truth, of course) was not her exemplary appearance or her exceptional talent in magic, but some incomprehensible whim in his brainless head, she got very angry.
"Don't you dare distract me anymore!" the girl leaned forward slightly, and sparks of magical energy ran through her wheat-colored hair, making it noticeably puff up. A trick that had helped more than once when someone needed to be put in their place. It even helped with adults.
"Oho! Strong, strong... pity I can't see her internal source. Although, I could..." Lin watched the running sparks with curiosity, then without a second thought reached out his hand toward her hair, intending to take measurements by touch.
Jaina recoiled from him as if from a leper, the young lady's legs got tangled, and she went flying toward the floor, intending to introduce her head closely to the corner of one of the tables. But the fall suddenly stopped, and the frightened girl hung in the air, completely flouting the laws of gravity—laws unknown to her, but which had not lost their relevance for that. Before she could recover, she was gently lifted, helping her regain her balance.
"It's a pity you don't know anything," Lin said, not hiding his disappointment, and lowered the hand he had extended toward the girl.
The student of the academy head froze; the sensation of someone else's magic's influence vanished. The boy who had saved her from falling took the top three books from the stack, laid them out in front of him, and, paying no more attention to Jaina who continued to stand by his table, proceeded to study the literature according to his method. Concentrating, Lin immediately immersed himself in the analysis of the text, and he didn't even have to pretend he didn't notice the girl. Curiosity was suppressed by will due to the failed attempts to find the truth, and the boy hoped that in the near future it would not terrorize him, at least until the end of the day.
The blonde teenager stood for a while, but without saying anything, she returned to her friends. After some time of "truce," it turned out the situation had reversed, and now it was Jaina who cast stealthy, attentive glances toward the fisherman's son. Except if the boy had previously been interested in her face, the talented sorceress preferred to observe the simultaneous turning of pages, and the longer she observed, the more thoughtful and prolonged her glances became...
...And the next day, after classes, the strange boy showed up in the library with a gold medallion on his chest.
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The woman was old. Her entire appearance declared the infirmity that comes just before death, giving one the firm conviction at first glance that blinking her eyes was already an feat of epic proportions. However, while Nalebera was not the most powerful mage in Dalaran, she was at least one of the most experienced, and therefore age did not present a serious problem for her. Her mind had not lost its sharpness even after almost a century and a half since the day she joined the Kirin Tor order, and magic easily sustained life in her, allowing her to remain one of the oldest teachers at the academy.
But along with age came boredom. The colors of life faded. Goals became blurred, or lost their value altogether. And the word "perspective," it seemed, had moved to a parallel line to forever diverge from the woman's life path. Yet, if global plans remained in the past, small joys in the present took on special significance in the irreconcilable struggle against routine. One of these outlets was "pranks" played on students...
"Whoever can pull the rabbit back out will receive a gold medallion," Nalebera declared, scanning several groups of "coppers" who had come for a lecture on rune weaving.
Before the start of the initiation into the mystery of runecraft, a few minutes were traditionally allocated to giving the students a task that possessed a priceless reward but seemed absolutely impossible. Moreover, for future mages who had only just stepped onto the path of mastering the magical art, it truly was impossible... Though by no means for the reason the students themselves saw, but only due to the lack of appropriate skills and experience.
This time, the bored sorceress's imagination had produced the following composition. On the table, by the teacher's place, stood a modest-sized wooden chest with its lid thrown back; nearby was a cage with an ordinary-looking gray rabbit, which, incidentally, was not the first time it had served as Nalebera's prop. The woman, imitating traveling magicians, demonstrated that the chest was empty, then without haste pulled her "voluntary" assistant out by the ears and began slowly lowering him into his new abode.
Suddenly, from the depths of the carpenter's work, to the accompaniment of the students' frightened cries, a bundle of segmented appendages ending in bony claws burst out. In the blink of an eye, the fluffy rodent was dragged inside, and then the newfound monster tried to perform the same operation on the Human hand holding its prey. The teacher, with a cry and unexpected agility for her age, managed to release her grip and leap at least a couple of meters away from the ill-fated site of the gold amulet trial. The appendages, which turned out to be unexpectedly flexible, having dragged the long-eared creature inside the dangerous box, spent a little more time exploring the surrounding space for additional prey, knocking the empty cage off the table in the process, and were gone.
"Well," the woman recovered and, surrounding herself with an impressive-looking shield, cautiously approached and peered inside the treacherous chest. "That was unpleasant. But nevertheless, my word is firm—if you can return the rabbit, or what's left of it, you'll get a gold medallion and, considering the increased difficulty... let me think..." the woman made a show of thinking. "A thousand gold on top. Any volunteers to try?" There was mockery in her voice; though not everyone present possessed the necessary life experience to catch it, it was definitely there.
The hubbub in the lecture hall was replaced by silence, then by animated discussions among the students impressed by the stated sum—it was significant even for the scions of high nobles, not to mention everyone else. For all that—it was the "everyone else" who made up the vast majority in the "copper" groups. However, despite the truly royal reward, no one seemed willing to step out and show their prowess in a confrontation with a monster that had managed to frighten an academy teacher.
"Excellent. Everything is as usual: the youth are in awe, and I get honor and respect for it," the woman thought with pleasure about the results of a well-executed prank. Unexpectedly, an unremarkable-looking lad rose from his seat and began descending the gentle steps of the auditorium where the student desks were located. The woman's eyes reacted quickly to the movement and fixed on the brave soul who dared to break established traditions. Occasionally, such individuals were found. Driven by greed, stupidity, faith in the length of their pedigrees, or in their own unsupported uniqueness, they tried in one way or another to shake her authority. After all, even a failed attempt that turned the loser into a laughingstock resulted in the audience's focus shifting from the teacher and her provocative jokes to the student who had disgraced himself... Nalebera was not devoid of a certain vanity, like any self-respecting mage.
While the slowly walking "copper" was accompanied by the intensifying whispers of his less brave classmates, the teacher's mind produced a profile of the contender for the gold medallion or, most likely, the contender for a significant portion of humiliation—after all, no one likes unsuccessful upstarts. Alas, there was not much information on this individual in the recesses of her memory. The student was a newcomer and had not stood out in previous lectures, nor had he shown a desire to participate in previous "contests." True, rumors had reached her about his unique method of studying library books, but without any details. In short, it could be said that the woman knew nothing about the young man descending.
As for his current behavior in the lecture hall, her memory told her that for the last five minutes, the newcomer had only listened with slight interest to the whispers of his neighbors talking about this and that. His actions were too sudden and therefore puzzled the teacher. For a moment, Nalebera even had the thought that the silently descending student didn't want to challenge her task, but... Who knows what could have entered a child's head? Maybe he just had to go? However, as the brave soul approached the table, her doubts evaporated.
"So, ready to stand up for the honor of the academy and save the poor rabbit?" the question sounded as soon as the boy drew close to the scene of action.
"No, I just need a gold medallion," the student shook his head, examining the box standing on the table.
"I see," the woman cast another evaluative glance at the volunteer. "Well then, please, demonstrate your skills."
Nalebera stepped aside a few meters and demonstratively crossed her arms over her chest, showing that she would not interfere or help the student in any way.
As soon as the lad tried to peer into the ill-fated box, the same lashes burst out of it again, except they had become a bit larger and had diluted their grayish color with red tones. The student barely managed to recoil, and the hall immediately buzzed; comments and guesses about the fate of the poor rabbit were heard, since the monster had grown so noticeably. And no one noticed how the teacher's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Who but she knew that everything the students had seen before was nothing more than a skillful illusion of her own making, and no "bony tentacles" definitely lived in her box, while the rabbit had safely gone back to the pen through a small portal...
Meanwhile, the brave soul valiantly challenged the monster, throwing small fireballs and icicles (the standard set of skills for students from the copper groups) in all directions, and even occasionally hitting the target. One of the segmented tentacles, cleanly sliced off by a sharp piece of ice, writhed feebly on the floor, and a couple more twitched convulsively in an attempt to get rid of the fire that had engulfed them. Several black smoking scorch marks appeared on the wall behind the table, and on the floor—scatterings of rapidly melting ice crystals—traces left by magical projectiles that had flown past the target.
The remaining five undamaged limbs of the fictional monster were just as fiercely trying to reach the teenager, who turned out to be unexpectedly agile. At the same time, the blind flailing of the limbs was every now and then punctuated by sudden purposeful lunges.
The longer the battle played out, the more consequences of the use of combat magic appeared in the hall's interior and the more emotions showed on Nalebera's old face—after all, everything, including the combat spells, was not real. One expects support for such a voluminous and detailed illusion from a talented graduate or a mid-level adult mage, rather than from some youth-newcomer who had barely turned twelve.
Watching as the noticeably winded boy, having won a "victory" over the "monster" worthy of a gold medallion, approached the slightly charred box, the woman thought that this individual could well pass the final exam in illusion magic.
The upstart, as the unceasing whispers had already dubbed him, continued to surprise those gathered. Cautiously approaching the lair of the appendages, he first carefully peered into the box, and then, after a short scrutiny of something visible only to himself, boldly thrust his arm inside. Moreover, the limb went into the short object up to the shoulder.
The hall gasped. While the girls' voices held delight at the displayed courage, the opposite sex was much more categorical in its opinion. The boys were practically saying: "Well, where are you going, idiot! Think better of it before it's too late!" Therefore, when the contender for the "gold" screamed loudly in pain and jerked in invisible grips in an attempt to pull his arm out of the treacherous box, practically no one was surprised. Naturally, the teacher was included in the list of the "surprised," and if someone were to sort that list by the degree of "being stunned," Nalebera would have led it by a very, very wide margin...
The student caught in the mess pointed his free palm toward the trap that had caught its fellow and doused the insides of the box with a stream of flame bursting from it. In response, a greenish cloud "erupted" from the depths of the badly battered wooden object, a grinding sound was heard, and in the next moment the lad leaped away from the unfriendly box, repeating the teacher's recent retreat. His arm was covered in blood and some yellow slime, so it was not clear the extent of its injuries. But one thing became obvious to everyone—there was something in his clenched fist. The palm opened, and the object obtained at the risk of his life flew in a short arc and was caught by Nalebera. During the flight, its identification occurred—a rabbit's ear heavily soiled with blood.
The sorceress examined the trophy with amazement, felt it, even cast something there, but apparently the result in all cases remained unchanged—this red-stained lump of fur was suspiciously similar to a rabbit's ear... Or it was masking itself as one very well. After intent study, the woman looked up at the person on whom the well-oiled process of playing pranks on students had failed for the first time in many years. Except instead of the expected surprise, confusion, or even that very unreadable gaze usually attributed to people in a state of complete bewilderment, only suspicion was frozen on Nalebera's frowning face. Several assumptions about the origins of the young talent's mastery flashed through the academy veteran's head at once. From the more likely—the help of another teacher, to the wild—a subject of their pointy-eared neighbors on the continent disguised as a Human.
And no—her paranoia had flared up not at all from a reluctance to give away the huge pile of gold she had rashly promised for saving the animal... Well, in any case, not only because of that. Even the talent displayed by the student did not play the main role in the distrust that seized Nalebera. The pride of the oldest teacher appealed to her. Her wounded self-esteem demanded that her subconscious find any even slightly plausible reason to refuse to recognize the young mage as the winner, for otherwise the sorceress's century-old reputation would turn to nothing.
The apprentice had somehow guessed that his "victory" was, to put it mildly, not exactly welcomed with open arms. Almost hitting the mark regarding the reason, he hurried to declare:
"I only need the amulet..."
The scales of doubt regarding how to proceed in this situation wavered noticeably. Suddenly, it dawned on her, and Nalebera made a decision: "Well, fine. At least now I predict a large number of people wishing to challenge my 'quests.' This will be fun..."
***
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