Music: Earth Song, Michael Jackson (I KNOW!!! Weird, but it works )

https://youtu.be/XAi3VTSdTxU

Arthas Menethil required the Sunwell, the High Elves' source of power, to resurrect Kel'Thuzad. Located on the Isle Quel'Danas, home to the Sunstrider dynasty, Arthas, with his loyal army, plundered their way through Quel'Thalas to reach his goal.

They faced fierce resistance in the King's court, but Arthas, mad, driven by dark forces, killed King Anasterian, monarch of the High Elves.

Quel'Thalas was left grieving. Her King was dead, and the survivors of the scourge attack were few. They were leaderless and growing weaker as their life source, The Sunwell, lay in a ruined, corrupted state.

The day after Camnath and Tiene left with the Rangers to pursue Dar'Khan Drathir, Kael'thas Sunstrider, Prince of Quel'thalas and only son of High King Anasterian, returned to Silvermoon amid the aftermath of its destruction.

Although he had spent many years away from Quel'thalas, his deep love for the majestic land had never waned. His beloved Silvermoon, the one-time jewel of the elven nation, now lay in ruins, strewn in a thick sheet of dust, rubble and blood.

He winced at the sight of torn and broken bodies lying at the edges of roads, in the woods and around derelict buildings. Mothers, fathers, children, lay twisted, bloodied, left to rot. It was a distressing sight and one which would haunt Kael'thas' mind for a very, very long time.

As Kael'thas rode in on his hawkstrider, his entourage and bodyguards at his side, his welcome in the city was somewhat reserved. The people watched the procession with a palpable distaste in their eyes as he rode by.

They had suffered much, and viewed his absence from the kingdom over the years, as almost negligent. So much more so now, following the monumental losses to the elven nation.

It had been many years since last he rode along the Walk of Elders. Kael'thas turned into Royal Exchange emerging at Farstrider Square, his favoured route as opposed to the more direct one through Murder Row. A growing feeling of dread filled his heart. The devastation was exhaustive, no part of the city had escaped the scourge attack and corresponding blast of the Sunwell.

The Prince's eyes took it all in. It was a stark contrast to Dalaran, the violet city with is pristine towers, domed buildings and paved streets. There he had studied and trained to become a powerful mage. His dedication, clarity of thought and tremendous skills also earned him recognition with the elite of Dalaran, and he was now a member of The Six - the High Council of Dalaran.

He left the comforts of the domed metropolis, however, on a bitter note. He had expressed an interest in a human sorceress, who also practised her art in the city, named Jaina Proudmore. Kael'thas had made no secret of his feelings for her. He was a polite, charming, noticeably gifted mage and Jaina had seemed genuinely taken with him.

Until that was, a chance meeting with another Prince turned her eyes elsewhere. That man was none other than, Arthas Menethil, Prince of Lordaeron.

Kael'thas did not handle Jaina's rejection of his love interest, well. And, when he accidentally came across the couple sharing a moment of tenderness, he questioned Arthas' depth of feelings for the young sorceress. Why was it the human Prince wanted their relationship kept quiet? Did she embarrass him somehow? Was she not worthy enough in his eyes to openly declare his feelings for her?

Now, of course, Jaina's lover had been responsible for the destruction of Kael'thas' homeland, the murder of his father and the eradication of close to ninety per cent of his people.

Kael'thas had lashed out at Jaina with scathing remarks about her vile lover, the monster she had chosen over him. Angry and hurt, he left the city. He would lick his wounds and focus only on his people's plight.

The hawkstrider picked its way through the ruins, clucking and clacking as its huge taloned toes negotiated the rubble with considerable grace. With hands crossed on the saddle's pommel, Kael'thas loosely held the reins of the great bird - it's rocking motion providing some level of comfort in this vista of carnage.

He passed people working diligently, rallying what help they could in trying to make good of that which Arthas had ransacked. They combined efforts with the Farstriders, cleaning up the city and laying the dead to rest - but it was a mammoth task.

He headed towards the Court of The Sun where he was to be greeted by a man he had never met before. Highly respected according to reports, the man was a Ranger who had been mostly responsible for rallying survivors and trying to bring some order from the chaos. It was admirable, considering he had lost nearly his entire family in the brutal invasion, a sister being the only survivor.

Kael'thas had sent the Magister, Archmage Rommath ahead to announce his arrival, hoping that it may boost the morale of his people. So far, that had not gone quite according to plan but, this was not about a popularity contest.

The responsibility to lead had fallen to him following the death of his father. That was going to be no easy job, having seen the near-apocalyptic result of a scourge invasion en route to his destination. It was understandable the people felt nothing other than hopelessness having suffered in this way. The Prince, therefore, made a vow to help them become a nation again; strong, resilient, invincible.

The broken steps of Sunfury Spire loomed as he turned into the courtyard from Farstrider Square. He caught sight of his loyal companion, descending the stairs as he neared.

Rommath came forward and grabbed the reins of the Prince's hawkstrider, steadying the beast as the noble sat, quietly surveying the Spire. "Welcome home, Your Highness, although..." Rommath's eyes gestured the ruined city. Kael'thas merely smiled, wanly.

Once his bodyguards stood, regimental, at his side, the Prince of Quel'thalas dismounted. He remained still for a few moments, absorbing the fact his feet were back on his home ground.

The extent of the destruction hit him. Memories of the city's beauty and splendour flashed across his mind. She lay in ruins now, bleeding, clinging to the desperate hope her grandeur would be reborn. It would be a long and arduous undertaking.

He saw a Ranger approaching, who, he assumed, was the one he was meeting. The man was descending the stairs, and quickly Kael'thas asked Rommath to remind him of his name.

"Lor'themar Theron, Your Highness. He was promoted to Alar'annalas* by Sylvanas herself. I believe there was quite a ceremony held to celebrate. Your father congratulated him personally for his accomplishment."

Kael'thas nodded as he watched the Ranger Lord in the customary red burnished armour connotative of his role, approaching. Lor'themar Theron looked tired, strained, which was understandable.

Under the circumstances, Kael'thas did not expect Lor'themar to conform to protocol by greeting him in the customary stately fashion. This man had worked non-stop, trying to keep things running as smoothly as possible, bolstering those around him, acting like a leader.

The Prince could not help but feel a little humbled by the Ranger Lord. Only a little though.

Lor'themar came to a stop in front of the Prince. He bowed deeply. "Your Highness," he said in a weary, but polite manner. "It is with regret that I meet you under such tragic circumstances."

"Lor'themar," the Prince replied. "Thank you for all your valiant efforts tending to our people. I believe my father's body lies in state. I am most grateful to you for that as well."

The Ranger Lord inclined his head. "Do you wish to freshen up after your journey, Your Highness, or would you rather see your father first?"

"I will see to my father," Prince Kael'thas said, his voice heavy with suppressed grief. He nonetheless straightened his shoulders and assumed the poise indicative of the noble-born.

Lor'themar turned and led the way into the Spire, Rommath and Kael'thas following close by.

That night, the skies of Quel'thalas were lit once more by the flames of a funeral pyre. The Prince in a touching eulogy proclaimed he felt lost without the great King, and he hoped he would be able to lead the people as bravely as his father. He announced, however, that he would not be taking the crown. High King Anasterian would be the last king in the Sunstrider dynasty and Kael'thas would adopt a new form of rule.

It was then the Prince renamed the High Elves. They would be known as the Sin'dorei, Children of the Blood, in honour of the all those who died at the hand of Arthas, the scourge and the traitorous Dar'Khan Drathir.

The Prince took it upon himself to rid Quel'thalas of the scourge which still roamed the land. He ordered his people evacuated from each area and then the forests were set aflame consuming the contagion and purifying the broken lands.

Finally, before he left Silvermoon to fight alongside the Alliance of Lordaeron, he crossed the water to Quel'Danas and the tainted Sunwell.

Its power was ebbing every day. Corruption from the resurrection of Kel'thuzad plus the damage caused by the mad Magister, seemed to ooze from it like a living, breathing entity. The Sunwell needed to be cleansed, so he gathered volunteers, Blood Mages, to destroy what remained, and seal it, ensuring it would never again entice evil.

https://youtu.be/b215Y8QgA3Y

The decision was an emotional one, for this had been the life essence of the elven nation for thousands of years. It was a high price to exact, but a necessary one for his people to survive. There would be a side-effect of this act of 'salvation' however. Denied the sustaining source, the elves would become lethargic, discouraged, sad.

The Prince knew a solution was required, and he promised to find it.

For now, however, he resigned himself to join the new Alliance in beating back the scourge from Lordaeron.

Not only that, but he swore vengeance on the one who had led the pestilence through his homeland. Arthas was in his sights.

The Ranger Lord's destiny would also be altered from the Prince's visit. Kael'thas entrusted Lor'themar to protect their exhausted people and to continue keeping their land secure from further plague and future enemies.

It meant that Lor'themar's days as a Ranger Lord were drawing to an end.

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* Alar'annalas – Ranger Lord

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