After completing his explosion mania, Leylin settled into a wooden chair to read some magic book. These days, he'd fine time to read books about arcane magic.
Within the vast tapestry of magic, arcane energy stands apart—an enigma woven into the very fabric of the universe itself. Unlike fire's fierce warmth or frost's chilling embrace, arcane magic is profoundly strange, shimmering with an otherworldly glow that seems to pulse with a life of its own.
It's a force that defies simple understanding, a mysterious wellspring of power that can shape reality in ways both wondrous and terrifying. This arcane energy is not merely the reserve of a mage's internal reserves.
It is a multifaceted force—capable of serving as a boundless source of power, fueling ancient and sophisticated devices like the Manaforge, which harnesses arcane currents to generate incredible energies beyond normal comprehension.
It also forms the very foundation of teleportation magic, allowing practitioners to carve pathways through space and time, bridging worlds with a whisper of their will.
Yet, this potent force carries a heavy risk. Its very nature is unstable—an exquisite yet dangerous dance of creation and destruction.
The arcane can tear apart the fabric of space itself, rippling through dimensions and connecting Azeroth to an endless, shadowy void. When wielded carelessly, it can unravel the universe's delicate threads, unleashing chaos that might devour worlds or plunge reality into unknown darkness.
Arcane magic's duality is what makes it both alluring and perilous. It is a testament to the universe's greatest mysteries—a force that can elevate civilizations or destroy them.
Mastery over it demands respect, precision, and an understanding that balance must always be maintained. For in the hands of the wise, it can unlock secrets of the cosmos; in the hands of the reckless, it can tear reality apart and unleash the void's endless hunger.
Arcane magic is indeed both exquisite and dangerous—an eternal reminder of the universe's profound mysteries and the peril lurking within the depths of power.
"Make me a hot drink," Leylin said, putting down his book and addressing the intelligent construct.
"No problem, Mr. Leylin,"
Leylin was not surprised to hear the intelligent creature address him. His teacher's research had yielded results based from his innovative insights involving his newly created magical construct.
Hot drinks were quickly delivered to the carved wooden table, and the intelligent construct quietly stood beside the tall bookshelf.
Sipping his drink, Leylin stretched his body.
Footsteps could be heard from downstairs.
The intelligent construct spoke, "Grand Magister Belo'vir has returned. The tedious experiments must begin again. I don't like him messing with my body."
Was it truly successful? Was this a natural reaction of the intelligent construct, or a message inscribed in the magical runes?
"Teacher, is the repairing of runestone completed?" Leylin asked, rising.
Belo'vir gestured for him to sit down. The grand magister could sense that his diligent student had just completed a long period of reading books.
"Well, quite successful. The mages of the Silvermoon Council are very efficient. Rommath is indeed an outstanding magister." Belo'vir praised.
Leylin felt a little puzzled for praising another magister in front of him.
The grand magister noticed Leylin's expression and smiled. "Don't mind my words. I have a suggestion."
"Teacher, please go ahead," Leylin asked.
"Become a Magister. Join the Silvermoon Council." Belo'vir's pale blue eyes sparkled with a gentle light, a light filled with trust, a sincere trust.
Leylin frowned, his teacher's words left him at a loss for words. What was the point of this question? It made no sense at all.
"But I am a human."
The grand magister shook his head, and with a slender finger, he tapped Leylin's chest and said sincerely, "But at the same time, you are also one of my students."
"I understand. What do I need to do?" Leylin saw no malice in his mentor's words or eyes.
The Grand Magister stood on the towering Mage Tower, gazing at the Sunfury Spire in the center of Silvermoon City's district.
He said, "Help Silvermoon City, help Silvermoon City with all your heart. Forget who you are."
The sensitive Leylin seemed to sense something in his teacher's words. "Teacher, have you foreseen something?"
Belo'vir put his hands behind his back, turned, and stared into Leylin's eyes. He walked slowly over, placed his hands-on Leylin's shoulders, and said, "The high elves have suffered greatly, from the lands of the West and to the Eastern Continent, they have endured hardships. I want to find another way out, a path destined to be lonely, and you, my student, are my only hope."
"I don't understand."
"In this world, do you believe in fate?" The Grand Magister and Leylin stood together on the top floor of the Mage Tower, enjoying the sunset glow on Silvermoon City.
Leylin's eyes burned with unwavering resolve as he clenched his fist tightly, the knuckles white with determination. His voice rang out, steady and fierce, cutting through the silence of his surroundings:
"I decide my own fate."
In that moment, the wasteland he had created with his relentless practice became more than just a battlefield—it became a symbol of his resolve. The scorched earth and shattered remnants of his spells echoed his declaration: no matter how dangerous or unpredictable the arcane energy, he would master it, control it, forge his destiny through sheer willpower.
The air around him shimmered faintly with residual arcane power, as if acknowledging his declaration. Leylin knew that the path ahead was fraught with peril—the forces he wielded could rip apart worlds or unlock secrets beyond comprehension—but his spirit remained unshaken.
He was no longer just a student of magic; he was its master, forging his own future amid the chaos. With a deep breath, he steadied himself, a flicker of hope igniting within.
No matter what dangers lay ahead, Leylin had claimed his fate—an unbreakable promise to himself and the universe.
Belo'vir, the Grand Magister, watched with a mixture of astonishment and pride as his student's progress unfolded before him. The young mage's rapid mastery of the arcane, especially in harnessing the strange and dangerous energies, was nothing short of extraordinary.
A gentle smile crept across Belo'vir's wise face; the kind born from a deep hope for the future. His eyes shimmered with a mixture of pride and anticipation as he observed Leylin's unwavering determination and burgeoning mastery.
In that moment, the mentor saw not just a promising mage, but a beacon of what could be achieved through dedication and courage.
Belo'vir's heart swelled with optimism. The young mage's rapid progress was a testament to the potential that lay ahead—an unfolding story of greatness yet to come.
With a quiet nod, he silently looked forward to guiding Leylin further, knowing that the future of magic itself might be shaped by the strides his student was making now.
In that shared moment of hope, Belo'vir saw the dawn of a new chapter—one where his student would carve his own path into the mysteries of the arcane, blazing trails that even the most seasoned mages could only dream of.
And with a proud smile, he silently believed that Leylin's journey was only just beginning.