incident, the fact that the king often yearned for a return to the days when he only had to deal with his own immediate future was something that the night elf would not let be forgotten at the moment.
“Has Genn done anything so terrible other than seek to do what he thought best for his people?” the archdruid went on. “Gilneas has suffered deeply and more than once because of those choices. Genn regrets that and has offered to do everything he can to make amends. Do not judge him as you judge yourself, Varian. He will never stand a chance of redeeming himself, if that is the case.”
Varian grunted. “If that’s all you can say to try to convince me to change my vote, you’ve wasted your breath, Archdruid! Stormwind leaves tomorrow. Whatever the rest of you want to do after that is your own choice.”
“Varian . . .”
“For a place surrounded by forest, it’s damned hard for a man to even get a breath of air! I’ve said all I intend! If you will excuse me . . . ” The king all but shoved past the archdruid and headed toward the edge of Darnassus. He had not gone far when he heard footsteps behind him. The sound served to agitate him further.
“Are you so desperate, night elf?” he snapped as he turned. “The great archdruid—”
Yet, it was not Malfurion but rather Anduin who had followed his father.
“Anduin . . . I thought you’d gone to bed—”
“No . . . I was up. . . . ” There was something secretive in the prince’s voice. “I heard voices . . . I heard everything.”
“With the archdruid? You heard nothing that matters. We still leave tomorrow—”
“I’m not going with you.”
The statement sounded so fantastic, so ridiculous, that at first Varian had to think whether he had actually heard his son speak it. Incredulous, he said, “Go get some sleep. We leave early.”
Anduin gave him a look that Varian usually reserved for himself when dealing with fool-headed courtiers. “You never listen to me. Please listen now, Father. I am not going with you.”
“You’re tired! You—”
Anduin looked exasperated. “I should’ve done what I had planned, but I started to have second thoughts until I heard you and Archdruid Stormrage arguing! He couldn’t make you see sense any more than I ever could, and he’s lived more than ten thousand years!”
“Age doesn’t mean wisdom,” Varian retorted, annoyed that the night elf should have more of his son’s respect than he.
“I’m afraid I know that, Father.” The moment Anduin said it, he looked as if he regretted it. “I’ve not come to renew our argument. I went to my quarters and started to write you a letter explaining everything.”
“Son . . . what—”
The prince held up a hand for silence, again very much mimicking his father’s stance. “I’m no warrior. We both know that. I’ve said it more than once. I’ll never be you. My path lies elsewhere. . . .”
“You’re heir to the throne!” Varian insisted, using whatever course he could to convince his only child that he was being absurd.
“I’m not abandoning Stormwind, but I need to leave to complete what I’ve begun.” Despite being only thirteen summers, at the moment Anduin sounded like a much older person. “I started it with High Priest Rohan in Ironforge. You know what he said about me. Even you agreed with him about my potential.”
“The Light can help you when you come to rule Stormwind, but it’s only a tool, like—”
“The Light is no tool. The Light is.” Anduin smiled softly. “Someday, I’ll make you understand that too. Father, I never felt more alive than during my training in Ironforge! Just think of it! As a priest of the Light, I could do so much more for our people—”
“As king, you have the ultimate ability!” Varian’s heart pounded. Of all that was happening, this was the one thing with which he could not cope. His son would come home with him. There would be an end to this talk about the Light, clearly a misguided influence. Varian would see to it that Anduin would overcome his lack of sufficient battle skills and train to become a proper ruler!
“Father?” Anduin’s smile faded. “You aren’t listening. Fine. I tried.”
The boy turned to leave. Something snapped in Varian. He saw his beloved Tiffin again with their infant son snuggled in her arms. Tiffin faded away, leaving only the child . . . and then the child began