• The soft midmorning light filtered through the trees of Quel’thalas, the human envoy laughed and chatted with their elven guides on the way to the sunspire. At the head of the group the king and his young son rode along side Gerrilon Windrunner, the ranger general and the man in charge of security for the royal visit. “Tell me you highness” Gerrilon spoke up, “is this your sons first time in our lands?” the king nodded, “it is my friend, Uther’s been keeping Arthas busy these past few years studying for his squireship, isn’t that right my boy?” the young blonde nodded with a wide, heart-warming smile, “yes father.” “Well then, you are in for quite the treat prince Arthas, Silvermoon city shines like a gem in the day and glows in the moonlight.” “It sounds wonderful.” “It is my son, it is.”

    Arthas was awestruck by the beauty of the elven city, and often found himself almost running into things constantly, his attention pulled away by the sights and sounds. Soon they arrived at the sunspire where the elf prince waited for them. Formalities and pleasantries were exchanged and the king knelt to his son, “while the prince and I talk, Gerrilon will show you around the city, behave yourself Arthas, and pay attention to the ways of these people, learn from them and it will make you a better man.” “I will father.” “There’s a good boy, now run along, don’t keep the general waiting.” The two royals watched the boy run off to farstrider square, “he’s a fine boy King Menethil, and he’ll make a great king one day.” “That he will my old friend, that he will.”

    Gerrilon waved Arthas over once he spotted the boy wandering among the rangers, “Welcome prince Arthas, I want you to meet someone.” The general looked down to indicate an elf girl half hiding behind his legs, “this is my daughter Sylvanas” Arthas and Sylvanas stared at each other for a few second then Arthas smiled, and held out his hand, “nice to meet you Sylvanas!” the elf let out a frightened ‘eep’ and snuggled back into the safety of her fathers legs.

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    “Sylvanas! Wait up!” The woman’s laughter ahead urged Arthas to pick up his pace, his initiates armour was clunky and ill suited to the running and tree-hopping that he somehow managed to accomplish as he chased the Elf-maid, each step sending his hammer clanking against his thigh. “hurry Arthas! You’ll miss it!” The prince broke out of the dense trees and into a large clearing; Sylvanas was nowhere to be found. “Sylvanas!” The teenaged prince turned slowly, looking for any signs of the ranger, “blasted elves, always slipping away into shadows and back.” The reply sent him whirling around to face nothing again, “is the great prince of Lordaeron jealous?” “Of you? Ha! I pity you, all that leaf jumping and no idea what lies below.” Suddenly a sharp point at his back silenced the prince, “rule number one Arthas, don’t insult me.” Arthas grinned and spun around, knocking the dagger out of Sylvanas’ hand and pinning her to the ground, “rule number two Sylvanas, don’t underestimate me.”

    The two childhood friend laughed and helped each other up. Sylvanas recovered her weapon and together the walked the last few meters to the cliff that overlooked the sunwell. Sitting, they watched the sun beginning to set, the fiery red glow mingled with the blue-green arcs that emanated from the arcane torrent within the well creating a vivid dance of color and beauty. “Sylvanas... I want you to have something” Arthas said shyly. Sylvanas looked up “what?” the prince reache dup and pulled a fine sapphire pendant from around his neck and laid it on that of the ranger. “y-you’re mothers pendant!?” he said in disbelief, “yeah, father always told her she was the most beautiful woman in Lordaeron, and the pendant was the proof, So I figured it blonged to the most beautiful woman in Quel’thalas.” Sylvanas smiled and rested her head on Arthas’ shoulder, stroking the pendant lovingly and eliciting a surprised glance from the prince. With a gentle smile he wrapped his arm around her and together they drifted off to sleep.

    “Congratulations on your first conquest boy.” Arthas awoke with a start at the powerful but kind voice booming over him, His eyes met those of his long time mentor and paladin, Uther the Lightbringer. “s-sir!?” Arthas stammered in surprise and embarrassment as he scrambled to stand at attention. Uther laughed and patted Arthas on the shoulder, “relax boy, I’m not mad at you, more relieved considering you’ve been missing for almost a day.” The prince, still in a slight shock hurriedly tried to explain his situation, “w-we were just watching the sun set, and uh, we got tired s-so we, um fell asleep and..” “And no better blanket than a woman’s arms eh?” Uther finished with a wink. Arthas blushed deeply and hung his head. “As I said Arthas, we’re more relieved that you’re alright, you had us worried there, “Sorry Uther” “bah think nothing of it.” As the two paladins turned to head back, Arthas noticed Sylvanas nearby with her father, Gerrilon was teasing his daughter with equal fervour, eliciting protests from the girl, she looked up and the two youths exchanged a apologetic but meaningful smile, a gesture that both older men noticed as well. Gerrilon was the first to speak, “well then, Uther and I have business back in the city.” “What? Oh yes that business, you two be careful and make sure to come back before dark this time, remember Arthas we head home tomorrow.”

    Arthas and Sylvanas looked at each other in slight disbelief before agreeing quickly. As the teens ran back into the forest Gerrilon sighed and sat down, “Ever since they first met, the two of them just can’t keep their minds off each other.” Uther chuckled with a nod, “Yes, Arthas sang the lament of the highborne at his mother funeral a three years ago, made everyone cry.” “They make a beautiful couple... and word of their friendship is quickly turning to rumours of secret marriages and moonlight trysts.” “young love... it’s only a matter of time you know.” “I can think of no better husband for my daughter.” “and no better wife for him.” The two men chuckled and headed back to the city.

    That afternoon, Arthas spent the rest of the day in Sylvanas’ chambers, enjoying good food, good wine, and the best company he could hope for... unfortunately, the elven wine was stronger than either had thought and Arthas began Bragging about his “conquest”, this infuriated Sylvanas, how dare he speak of her as if she was a trophy. The argument raged on and could be heard by those passing in the street. Arthas ducked as an elven vase flew over his head and out the door, “Sylvanas please I- I’m sorry I didn’t mean...” GET OUT!” the woman raged, sending another piece of furniture his way to accentuate her point. Arthas dodged and kept trying to apologize. In tears, Sylvanas ripped the pendant from her neck and threw it at the prince; the jewelled necklace bounced off his chest and clinked to the floor. Arthas knelt and picked up the pendant, examining it he looked up at the sobbing high elf. With a defeated sigh, Arthas placed the pendant on the table next to her bed then left; his head hung low, “some conquest.” He muttered as he made his way back to the apartment he had purchased for use during his visits.

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    Arthas and Sylvanas would not speak to or see each other for many years, the fight weighing heavily on both their hearts. The next time they did meet was on the battlefield, Arthas himself leading the ravaging scourge against the elves on their way to the sunwell. The two former friends and lovers fought fiercely, one to defend her home, the other driven to madness by the iron will of the Lich King. And when Arthas slew her, what was left of his heart shattered, in desperation and heartbreak he tried to use the power of the scourge to resurrect Sylvanas, but only ripped her soul, twisting it into a mindless banshee. Arthas knew when Sylvanas broke free of the lich kings will and escaped with several other undead, he could have stopped her, but he used the last of his humanity to let her go. Years passed, Arthas took command of the frozen throne, Sylvanas donned a crown of her own, and the two immortals always remembered, always hopped deep within their trapped souls, that things could have been different... and on cold still nights, when not even the wind howls across the tundra of Northrend or through the tunnels of Undercity, one can hear the heartbroken lament of a couple who lost more than everything.