Chapter Thirty: The Blue Boy and Lady White

Sylvanas departed, returning to the front lines, leaving Patrick alone in the Chief's office.

To restore the Sun Sanctuary's significance, its value must be demonstrated—a logistical base, yet situated far from Silvermoon City, naturally deterring any mages from coming. Life in the entire Tower of Sunlight had grown decadent, with days spent in idleness.

Patrick sat in the office, transcribing the spells he had learned.

Transmutation: Spell Amplification.
Conjuration: Surge of Enchantment.
Protection: Dimensional Anchor.
Conjuration: Sphere of Force.
He had crafted the principles and spell rings for each, placing them on sheets of arcane parchment.

He summoned Ethonis, Candiris, Quelrintis, and Yanida, handing each a sheet of arcane parchment. This was the first time Patrick assigned them tasks.

“These are the arcane spell rings and principles I’ve transcribed. Take them and study. Once you’ve finished, organize your learnings, sign your name, and submit them to me. You have sixty days.” Patrick set forth their learning assignment and requested they present their results. This was a novel method for the group, who each took the parchment with curiosity.

“Is this a fourth-level conjuration?” Quelrintis exclaimed in awe. Having spent years stationed at the Sun Sanctuary, he hadn’t learned many advanced spells.

“Go ahead and study. Remember, learning the arcane arts is endless; only by pressing forward can you succeed.” Patrick imparted his philosophy to the four.

In his previous life, learning had occupied a vast portion of Patrick’s existence—over ten years of schooling in a life barely past twenty. He was grateful for those years: without that vibrant education, which sharpened his mind and broadened his horizons, he would not have been able to make rational judgments or think independently.

Reflecting on the once-praised Western education—its freedom, its “do what you want”—Patrick scoffed at such notions. Like the social climate of Quel’Thalas, it was a deeply problematic ideology, fostering ignorance and allowing education to quietly cement social stratification. It led to entrenched classes; in the Stars and Stripes Nation, such rigidity was most severe.

Quel’Thalas was no different—ordinary elves were rendered mediocre, while the elites remained so for generations. Upward mobility and educational resources were monopolized by great families and clans, leaving the common folk directionless and decadent, seeking only pleasure. This was the chief cause of stagnation in the High Elven Kingdom.

True knowledge reflects one’s cultivation, morality, and wisdom—a distillation of experience and learning, not merely “doing what you want.” The greatest purpose of study is to expand one’s thinking and vision, to find a path to success amid life’s complexities.

The four departed to study on their own. Patrick had given them ample time, but extracting the essence from books was another matter: their learning methods, levels, abilities, and experiences differed. Only by identifying each one’s shortcomings could Patrick determine how best to teach the arcane.

Patrick himself opened a tome, reading about the School of Conjuration: Teleportation. The ability to move across dimensions, mastery in conjuration spells was the mark of an advanced arcane master. His father’s arcane compendium recorded everything in detail—the principles of teleportation, how to rend space, determine spatial coordinates, even the precise expenditure of magical energy.

Spatial knowledge was fascinating, almost addictive. Patrick began to understand the mages who spent their lives immersed in the arcane; once you touched upon truth, you were inevitably drawn in, lost in the ocean of knowledge, unable to escape.

Patrick radiated arcane energy, his mental power guiding it to cleave through space. The spatial node opened, continuity vanished, and Patrick projected his consciousness toward the outer layers of Azeroth. Threads of his mind slipped through the spatial wound, revealing vistas of the outer void: dense magical energy poured forth, sustaining the channel at great cost of his power.

Guided by the book, but true understanding required personal exploration. Patrick recalled a maxim from his previous life: “Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth.”

His magical power was nearly depleted; unable to maintain the spatial rift, he had to close it. Through mental observation, he saw the void’s energies were abundant, but hopelessly entangled and chaotic, unusable or unabsorbable.

Various grades of energy maintained the stability of twisted void space, rife with spatial turbulence and particle flows; yet overall, a dynamic balance had formed from their intermingling.

Patrick attempted to project his mind toward the Blue Child and the White Lady, seeking the secrets of these Azerothian moons. Unfortunately, he could not approach them closely—his mental power seemed warped and extinguished the nearer he came, an invisible force field protecting each satellite.

[Ten thousand years ago, the night elves conducted detailed observation and research on the Blue Child and White Lady. Ancient archmages projected their mental senses toward Azeroth’s two moons, but encountered a barrier of defensive energy, impenetrable by mind, permitting only external probing.] Alan, long silent, suddenly interjected.

[Later, archmages tried projecting their minds and using spatial conjuration spells, hoping to breach the energy shield and continue investigations within. Yet every attempt failed—even combined spells from over a dozen archmages could not succeed; mind and magic vanished upon contact with the barrier, making internal exploration impossible.]

[After repeated efforts, it was discovered that both moons were protected by a layer of pure, dense energy, impenetrable by force—akin to Azeroth’s magical network, but even more resilient, preventing powerful extraterrestrial intrusions and protecting indigenous life. What its composition was, remains unknown.] Alan admitted she did not know the nature of that energy.

“Could it be the work of the Titans? Azeroth is their creation, and its closest satellites may well have been altered by them as well.” Patrick pondered. Since the moons shared protective barriers with Azeroth, there must be something worth safeguarding on those worlds, though what, he could not guess. As satellites of Azeroth, perhaps they were auxiliary facilities left by the Titans, designed to support the main planet.