Old man Norton exhaled another theatrical plume of smoke, the kind that practically twirled in midair to form a question mark above his head. "Once you're officially learning magic, you'll have options—glorious, slightly deadly options. Ruin-delving, monster-slaying, mercenary life. All wonderful ways to scrape together enough gold for your next spell component. But until then? You either live like a penniless genius on one of three scholarships granted by none other than Court Archmage Medivh himself... or you sell your soul, pardon, services to a noble family. They'll fund your studies, sure. But when you graduate, you're theirs. Their loyal, spell-slinging, tea-sipping court wizard."
He paused for effect, letting the smoke curl dramatically around his wizened face.
"Just so you know, even a crummy photocopy of the apprentice textbook costs a whole gold coin. Provided, of course, you can read every squiggle in there. No book, no boom. And then there are the spell materials. You think toads and fairy dust are cheap? Think again."
Daniel and Anya went paler than ghosts in a blizzard.
Two seconds ago, they'd been hopeful kids with a dream. Now they looked like they'd just been told their dream came with a price tag bigger than the Cathedral of Light. Daniel, ever the stubborn giraffe, clenched his fists and set his jaw. Anya, the delicate flower of the duo, shrank into herself like a turtle with tax problems. Her trembling fingers twisted the hem of her skirt until it resembled a wrung dishcloth.
Norton saw their faces and sighed, more smoke escaping his lips like the last breath of a dying dragon.
"A copper coin can fell a hero," he muttered. "Or, in this case, the lack of one."
Then Duke, completely unbothered, as if he'd just remembered he left a sandwich in his pocket, pulled out a weathered little booklet.
"Excuse me, Master Norton, would it be alright if I lent this to Daniel and Anya?"
Old man Norton squinted, took the booklet, opened the cover—and promptly had a spiritual aneurysm.
His eyes lit up like a warlock who just discovered soulstones on sale.
"By the Light—where the hell did you get the High Elf Wizard Apprentice's Getting Started Notes!?"
Duke blinked. "Uh... is that important?"
"IMPORTANT!? BOY! Humans learned magic from the high elves! These guys wrote the damn manual on pyromania! This isn't just a notebook—this is a relic! A goldmine! A holy grail for nerds in Dalaran!"
He turned to a scribble on the inside cover.
"Do you even know what this says?!"
Three heads shook like confused puppies.
"KAEL'THAS SUNSTRIDER! THIS IS FROM THE HIGH ELF PRINCE HIMSELF!" Norton yelled, flapping the notebook like it owed him rent. "Duke, where in Azeroth did you get this? If you're not careful, this thing will bring you more heat than a naked fire mage in Blackrock Mountain!"
Duke shrugged, entirely too nonchalant. "Uh... from a passing, slightly bored ranger general of Quel'Thalas."
Norton and Daniel immediately relaxed. Crisis averted.
Until a creepy, gleeful giggle floated through the window.
Duke's face fell. That laugh. That cursed, whimsical, vaguely flirty cackle. Alleria. Of course she was stalking him! Of course she could outrun a horse-drawn carriage through a forest!
Duke paled. Norton didn't notice.
"Alright, alright. I can make you a deal," Duke said, suddenly wearing the grin of a goblin with a signed contract. "How about I copy this notebook for you, and in return, you give me two copies of the Stormwind School of Magic's starter notes. Oh, and an Elven translation in a month."
Norton froze. He saw Daniel and Anya's faces brighten like someone just offered them free lifetime access to mana potions. He knew he was being bribed. Played like a fiddle. Roped into a job he didn't ask for.
But the kid was good. Damn good.
"Fine," Norton sighed. "You win, brat. You'll get your trade. And because I'm fond of you, I'll only charge you twenty percent more than market price."
Duke smirked. A golden thigh to cling to had just appeared.
Three days from Northshire Abbey to Stormwind, and only now Duke realized this was going to be a real journey. Azeroth may have been condensed for games, but this version? Vast. Wild. Not a loading screen in sight.
That night, Duke was awakened by a painful pinch on his ear. He bolted upright and nearly screamed, because above him wasn't the canvas of a tent, but a dazzling star-filled sky.
And directly in his face: a very familiar pair of ah-hem... high-elf assets.
He looked up. "Uh... Alleria?"
The ranger general crossed her arms, annoyed. "You... you recognized me by my chest?"
"I'M THIS TALL!" Duke protested.
Right. His body had been turned into that of a 13-year-old. Eye level... unfortunate.
Alleria looked ready to commit mild homicide, but she sighed instead.
"Answer me this. Why did you lend my notebook to that dusty old codger?"
"I had no choice," Duke replied, palms up in surrender.
Alleria tapped her foot, hands still on her hips. Then her face softened slightly.
She gave him a sly look. "I came to say goodbye."
And just like that, she vanished into the trees, leaving behind a baffled Duke, a starry sky, and one very confused hormonal time traveler with a priceless notebook and a thousand problems on the horizon.