More than 2,000 years had passed since the end of the War of the Ancients. The elven kin of Shandaral had not received the blessings of the World Tree or the Well of Eternity. For them, 2,000 years meant they had already lived through approximately three-fifths of their natural lifespan.
However, based on Andreas' understanding of High Elves, even after losing their immortality, elves would only show signs of aging when they approached the very final stages of their lives.
Yet, looking at the Governor of Shandaral before him, his appearance seemed a bit... prematurely aged compared to the years he had lived.
Many strange thoughts flashed through Andreas' mind, but he did not show them outwardly. He politely reached out and shook hands with Governor Roddik.
Under Roddik's enthusiastic invitation, the group officially entered the city of Shandaral.
Compared to other Night Elven cities Andreas had seen, Shandaral generally upheld the architectural style inherited from the era of the Night Empire.
However, to adapt to the frigid climate of the surrounding area, this city had made some personalized adjustments to the relatively rigid urban templates.
Many tall boreal trees unique to the cold zones were planted within Shandaral. On one hand, they served as greenery for the city; on the other, they acted as windbreaks against the piercing cold winds of the north.
Braziers burning fiercely could be seen almost everywhere in the city. Although the lingering smoke made the air quality in Shandaral look poor, it at least pragmatically raised the temperature of the entire city.
Seeing the curious look on Andreas' face, Roddik said with a bitter smile, "My apologies. If we could, we wouldn't want to use such primitive methods for heating either."
"After the explosion of the Well of Eternity, the once-inexhaustible magic became a luxury. We could no longer constantly supply energy to the barrier to shroud the entire city. We had to find other ways to ensure the citizens could survive in the harsh polar environment."
On the way to the Governor's Palace, Andreas chatted briefly with this elderly Prince Roddik.
Roddik Wintermoon was born into a major Highborne clan. Thousands of years ago, he was ordered by Queen Azshara to pioneer the northern lands of Northrend.
At that time, the continent of Ancient Kalimdor was still a single landmass. Although Northrend's climate was difficult to endure, thanks to the energy supply from the Well of Eternity and sufficient logistical support, Roddik's process of establishing Shandaral was not overly difficult.
But as the War of the Ancients ended and the Well of Eternity exploded, Northrend was torn from the continent, and the entire large island drifted toward the far northern regions.
Having lost the infinite energy of the Well of Eternity, the barrier covering the city began to become unstable, and the effects of the constant-temperature magic gradually faded. Many citizens froze to death due to the plummeting temperatures during that most difficult period.
"I have a question."
After arriving at the reception hall of the Governor's Palace, Andreas asked in confusion, "Since life was so difficult, why didn't you send people to try and contact your kin in Kalimdor?"
Roddik sighed and said, "We tried, but it wasn't that easy."
"After Northrend separated from Kalimdor, all the original ley line coordinates became invalid. There were only two choices for those who wanted to reach the continent."
"First was to learn how to build ships from scratch. We tried during the 500 years following the Sundering, but building a ship large enough to withstand the waves of the ocean was far too difficult for us, who had never dealt with the sea."
"Second was to seek help from the Dragonflight. We tried that too, but you know the arrogant nature of the dragons. I personally went to seek an audience but couldn't even meet any of the Dragon Aspects. It's said that the Guardian Dragons were also going through their most difficult period at that time."
Andreas nodded in realization upon hearing this.
The five Dragonflights, as Guardians infused with the power of the Titans, had performed terribly during the War of the Ancients because of Neltharion's sudden betrayal and the creation of the Dragon Soul, which weakened their strength. Their performance was even worse than that of the mortal Night Elves.
The Black Dragon King betrayed them, the Blue Dragon King went mad, the Bronze Dragon King went missing, and the Green Dragon Queen had to remain in the Emerald Dream for long periods.
During that time, Alexstrasza, who managed Wyrmrest Temple, was exhausted just trying to handle the numerous troubles.
Hardly able to take care of themselves, how could the dragons find the time to help the "tiny mortals" in their eyes?
This situation continued until a few hundred years ago when things slightly improved. However, by this time, Shandaral had also passed through its most difficult period and had gradually grown accustomed to living in isolation overseas.
Aside from continuing their efforts to find an energy source, they gradually forgot about their Kalimdor kin from whom they had been separated for over 2,000 years. It wasn't until the news from Harris Moonsong of the Moonflower Garden arrived that Roddik, who was franticly searching for an energy source, suddenly snapped awake.
"Right, speaking of which."
Andreas observed Roddik closely—not his appearance, but the flow of energy around his body.
The Arcane aura on Roddik was chaotic and weak, lacking any of the presence a veteran Arcanist should possess.
"In the absence of an energy supply, how did you manage to endure the magic addiction for these 2,000 years?"
Roddik smiled bitterly. "We just barely managed to survive. We rely on siphoning magic from nearby creatures to sustain ourselves. Because of this, we have frequently angered the Drakkari trolls, with whom we already had mutual animosity."
So that's how it is.
Thinking of the future struggles of the High Elves after losing the Sunwell, Andreas roughly knew how the Highborne of Shandaral had survived.
However, siphoning magic from other creatures was like drinking poison to quench thirst. In the absence of magic, even Roddik, as the Governor, was this weak, let alone other Highborne of lower status.
To alleviate their magic addiction, they would sneak into Zul'Drak to capture trolls for energy siphoning, which angered the frost trolls and drew their large-scale attacks.
Lacking magic and the strength to counterattack, they could only barely activate the defensive barrier left by Queen Azshara to repel the trolls.
Opening the defensive barrier required a significant amount of magic. After the trolls retreated, Shandaral would again begin to worry about the lack of magic, thus entering an almost never-ending vicious cycle.
The Moonflower Garden discovered by accident pointed a way for Roddik; perhaps settling directly near a ley line node was a feasible way out.
But without permission from the Blue Dragons, relying solely on the ambient magic dissipating near the ley line node was clearly not enough.
If Andreas hadn't appeared at this point in time, Roddik was planning to brace himself and head to Coldarra to negotiate directly with the Blue Dragons.
"Frost trolls, huh..."
Excluding the untouchable powerhouses like the Dragons and Titan-forged, the mortal forces of Northrend were also a mixed bag.
To the east of Moonsong Forest was Zul'Drak, the home of the Drakkari Empire. The frost trolls of the north possessed strength no less than that of the Amani or Gurubashi Empires. The current Shandaral was simply unable to confront them head-on.
The trolls of Zul'Drak were only one of the three major forces in Northrend; they had generation-long conflicts with the Furbolgs who occupied the Grizzly Hills to the south.
The Drakkari trolls had built a magnificent frontline fortress—Gundrak—on the border with the Grizzly Hills. For thousands of years, countless battles between the Furbolgs and trolls had taken place around this fortress.
Aside from the Furbolgs and trolls, the other major mortal force was the Dragonflayer Vrykul of Howling Fjord.
However, according to Roddik, most of the Vrykul in Howling Fjord were still in a state of slumber, with only a small portion being active.
Considering the total number and formidable combat power of the Dragonflayer Vrykul, even the Furbolgs adjacent to Howling Fjord were unwilling to provoke them lightly.
"I have a general understanding of your plight," Andreas said with a smile to the worried Roddik. "Though we have been separated for over 2,000 years, we are ultimately kin of the same lineage. I will find a way to solve Shandaral's problems."
"I hope you will take this opportunity to join the recently established Night Republic. Regarding the future development of Shandaral, I already have a series of plans in my mind."
Seeing Roddik's expression of both anticipation and hesitation, Andreas persuaded him in an inviting tone, "As long as you are willing to return to the Night Republic, within a thousand years at the latest, Shandaral will surely become a radiant beacon lighting up the entire continent of Northrend."