A/N: This is another Warcraft story, a prequel to "Night & Day" that I wrote for my WoW bud confunded, who wanted to know how Stan and Kyle first met! This takes place in Year 23, so it's after the Third War/Warcraft III: The Frozen Throne but before World of Warcraft begins. Anyway, this fic is short and goofy, but it was fun to write! And thanks to SekritOMG for the summary, lol.

"I think maybe we should just forget turtles," Rebecca was saying as they passed under the gates of Stormwind. "I just don't have it in me to kill any mistakes today."

"I'll do it then," Kyle said.

Rebecca sighed and said, "Well, okay, I guess."

It was the third Wednesday in a row they were stuck on polymorphing creatures into turtles. They had long since mastered sheep, cats, rabbits, pigs, and mice, but they were both struggling with turtles. They had brainstormed many possible reasons why: was it because it was a reptile? Because they didn't see turtles very often? Because there were both land turtles and sea turtles? Yet at the end of the day and for whatever the reason, they continued to be very bad at polymorphing things into turtles, and Kyle refused to be bad at things. Each freakish result was a disturbing realization of his own failure, and he would not stand to be mocked by yet another turtle-wolf. As such, he didn't really mind killing the things (so long as he didn't get blood on his robes).

They veered off the path, into the grassy hills, and scanned the area for wolves. Sometimes they got lucky here, even though this stretch of land just east of Stormwind wasn't very densely wooded. And today they were lucky: as Rebecca was collecting a Peacebloom, Kyle spotted a mangy gray wolf drinking from the pond behind Goldshire's blacksmith building.

"Look! Down there!" Kyle whispered to her.

Rebecca, who was a nervous wreck, instantly froze and jerked her head up.

"This one's mine," Kyle said, now creeping a few steps forward to get in range of the wolf.

He took his staff and began concentrating intensely, using all his mental power to visualize a little green turtle. Then, just as he unleashed the spell, Rebecca called out his name, and the wolf dashed away.

"What the fel, Rebecca!" he spat. "You made me miss!"

She looked like she had seen a banshee. In a grave, frightened voice, she said, "I think you may have hit someone."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I saw somebody on the path," she said. "I-I was trying to warn you."

Kyle looked down at the path that led from Goldshire to Westfall, just beyond the pond. There was nobody there.

"You're kidding. Right?" he asked her, the blood in his veins coming to an icy stop. But Rebecca's massive brown eyes told him she was most definitely not joking.

Panicking, Kyle ran down to the path as fast as his legs could carry him, the thoughts racing through his head even faster: oh, gods, what would he do if he had created some kind of fucked up turtle-human?! He would have to kill it! He would have to kill a person! And get rid of the body, too! Oh, gods, what had he done!

When he got there, all he saw was a spilled sack of oats. But then a little green turtle crawled out from under the canvas sack. It occurred to Kyle that he had done it! He had successfully polymorphed something into a turtle!

Rebecca arrived then. "Oh, wow. It's a turtle."

Kyle picked the turtle up. It was beautiful, with little black eyes and a strong, sturdy shell: beautiful success. "I did it," he said to the turtle, or maybe himself.

"I think these oats might've spilled," Rebecca mumbled.

Kyle didn't hear her. "I finally did it," he repeated, looking at the turtle with wistful pride.

"Kyle," Rebecca said

"What?"

"This person's going to be mad when they see their oats spilled."

He looked down: there were oats everywhere. "Ugh. Yeah, probably." He considered just leaving, but his conscience wouldn't allow him. "We'll just have to apologize and pay for it, I guess."

"Well," Rebecca began, hesitant, "you were the one who did it."

"So?"

"So maybe you should be the one to pay for it."

He squinted at her, unable to argue with that. "Fine." Then he put the turtle back down on the ground.

About fifteen seconds later, the turtle changed back into a person – a guy. A hot guy. A really hot guy.

But on top of being hot – with a gorgeous face and silky black hair and ocean blue eyes – he was, of course, desperately confused. "What just happened?" he asked. "And who're you?" Then he saw the spilled oats. "Oh, shit!" he cried out, dropping to the ground and picking up the now empty sack. "Oh, fuck!"

"Yeah, uh, it would seem that your oats have, um, spilled," Kyle said, foolishly.

The guy – who was really more of a boy – looked at Kyle in horror and disbelief. "What the fel just happened!?"

"I uh. Accidentally polymorphed you. Just now. Into a turtle," Kyle admitted, handling this poorly. "Umm. Sorry?"

"'Sorry'? 'Sorry'!?" the boy shot back. "Do you have any idea how much trouble I'm going to be in!? This was a whole weeks' worth of oats!"

"I can pay you for them," Kyle said in a small voice.

The boy heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping. "Okay," he said, then his relief shifted into subtle frustration: "But we're going to have to go back to the Jansen Stead. In Westfall."

"That's fine," Kyle said. Then to Rebecca he said, "You can head back to school."

"Oh, no, I'll come with you guys."

He eyed her. "We were supposed to be back by three thirty. They'll think something happened to us."

But she didn't surrender; she just stood there.

"Wait a second," the boy said, "you guys can make portals to Stormwind, right?"

"Yeah," Kyle answered, neglecting to mention that that was the only place he knew how to port to.

"So what time is it now?" the boy asked.

Rebecca checked her watch. "Two twenty."

"Then that's perfect," the boy said, proceeding to explain: "It takes just over an hour to get there from here, so if you can port us back to Stormwind afterwards, you guys will only be a little late."

Kyle hated how smart this was, yet the boy's cleverness also impressed him, thereby making him even more attracted to him. Still, though, what the fel was Rebecca's problem? Why was she doing this to him?

Pointedly, Kyle questioned her: "Why do you want to come so badly, Rebecca?"

She stared at him for a moment and then said, "It's not an issue anymore," which was so like her, giving a non-answer like that. Kyle glared at her, but she quickly looked away.

"What's wrong?" the boy with black hair asked.

"Nothing," Kyle muttered. "Let's go."

And so the three of them began the trek to Westfall to buy more oats.

"So, do you live in Stormwind?" Kyle asked the boy.

"Yep, in the Barracks in the Command Center," he said. "So, Old Town."

"You're in the army?"

"As of last year, yeah. And you guys are mages, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah," Kyle admitted, the polymorph incident fresh on his heels. "I mean, we're still in-training, you know, and well, the path to success is lined with the ghosts of failure, as they say."

The boy looked at him. "Who said that?"

"Oh, I dunno. You've never heard that one before?"

Rebecca interjected and said, "I think it was Ethylar."

"I see," the boy said.

There was an awkward silence then, and Kyle rolled his eyes. If only Rebecca weren't here! She had such a way of making things weird, because she was weird. Ugh! Now it was up to Kyle to diffuse this situation that she just had to wedge herself into.

"Anyway!" Kyle began, with forced cheer. "Let's do some very belated introductions, shall we? My name is Kyle, and I'm the son of Archmage Sheila and the late Archmage Gerald, if you've heard of them, which you probably have." Then he asked, "What's your name?"

"I'm Stan, Stan Marsh," Stan said. "It's, ah, nice to meet you, Kyle, and…?" He looked over at Rebecca.

"Rebecca," she mumbled, not looking at him. (Awkward, so fucking awkward!)

Politely, Stan said, "Nice to meet you, too, Rebecca."

This boy was certainly raised well, Kyle thought, which led him to ask, "So, Stan, where are you from?"

"Oh, um. Lordaeron."

"Oh? Where in?" Kyle asked.

"Stratholme," Stan said.

Kyle looked at Stan, who looked back at him with utmost gravity. The people of Stratholme had been turned into zombified Scourge after eating plague-infested grain, a devastating plot in The Lich King's larger plan to raise an army of undead. Kyle wasn't aware that there had been any survivors. And though he knew it was probably impolite, he needed to ask anyway: "Were you… there?"

"Yes," Stan replied. Then he asked, "Were you? In Dalaran, I mean."

"Ah, no. They got us out beforehand. Portals, you know," Kyle answered, drawing a big circle in the air and trying to laugh to lighten the mood. Stan echoed his laughter, and it was all very uncomfortable, but this was dispelled when Kyle caught Rebecca peering at Stan with this look. He narrowed his eyes at her to get her to fuck off. And she did fuck off for the moment, diverting her gaze as she was inclined to do. She couldn't beat Kyle; she just couldn't. Well, maybe she could beat him with the distance of her Ice Lances and the strength of her Arcane Blasts, but that was beside the point! She just spent more time studying, that was all.

Stan then asked, "So what were you guys doing earlier? Just practicing polymorphing?"

This question seemed merely inquisitive, but Kyle nevertheless felt the need to defend himself, "Well, yes, but I had no intention of hitting you. I was targeting a wolf, and what happened was that Rebecca here interrupted my focus and I ended up hitting you."

"I was trying to warn you!" Rebecca said.

"Well I wouldn't have hit him if you hadn't scared the wolf away," Kyle retorted.

She looked at him with exaggerated disgust.

Just as Kyle was about to lay into her more, Stan said, "Look, It doesn't matter anymore. The important thing is that nobody got hurt."

"Right," Kyle agreed, speaking to Rebecca, who squinted at him and shook her head.

Stan went on to say, "Just be more careful next time," and then Rebecca gave Kyle this smug look that made him want to scream, but he kept his mouth shut and instead glared daggers at her, making her look away again. Victory was easy, though annoyingly ephemeral.

Whatever, Stan probably thought she was lame. Meanwhile, Kyle was working on making sure Stan thought he was cool, because he was: "I'm very proficient at polymorphing, like, generally," he explained. "I'm very proficient at a lot of things, actually. I get perfect marks at school, and I've had a number of Archmages – no, Rebecca, not just my parents, okay – tell me my fire spells are extremely advanced for my age. As a matter of fact, one of those people was even Kael'thas Sunstrider, prince of the high elves, the people who first taught humans magic. So I'm pretty sure he knows what he's talking about."

Here was the thing about Kael'thas Sunstrider: Kyle had been introduced to him once at some horrible dinner party in Dalaran, and he had said something to Kyle's mom like, "I'm sure your son will be a great mage, too, someday." So, really, Kyle wasn't lying.

Anyway, what mattered was that Stan was impressed: "Wow, that's amazing. I used to see elves every once in a while in Stratholme. I never met any personally, though. Have you ever been to Quel'thalas?"

"Yeah, I have!" Kyle said, and he began to tell Stan all about Silvermoon City. Then, just when he was talking about the gorgeous fountain in the Court of the Sun, they arrived at the Jansen Stead, at the very edge of Westfall.

They found Mrs. Jansen fixing the fence around the herb garden. "Hey there," she said when she saw them. "What can I do for ya?" But then she recognized Stan and said, "Wait a second, weren't you just here?"

"Yeah, I was," Stan said, "but there was an accident, and the oats got spilled, so, um. I'm back to buy more, I guess."

Kyle was grateful that Stan didn't outright blame him, but he also felt bad, so he admitted: "It was my fault. I accidentally polymorphed him, and he ended up dropping them."

Mrs. Jansen frowned and said, "Well I hope you don't expect me to replace them for free."

"Oh, no!" Stan and Kyle said in unison, and then Kyle quickly explained, "I'm going to pay for them."

So Kyle paid Mrs. Jansen for another bag of oats, Stan hoisted it up in his arms, and the problem was solved.

"There," Kyle said, satisfied and relieved. "Now just to get back to Stormwind."

Yet as he dug through his bag for a Rune of Portals, he also couldn't help feeling disappointed that perhaps his path and Stan's may never cross again. He didn't want that to happen – he wanted them to be friends! And so as he took the portal back to Stormwind and the three of them exited Mage Tower, Kyle wondered what he might say to communicate this. They were nearly at the Academy of Arcane Arts and Sciences, so he had to think fast!

In the end, Kyle said fuck it and just came out and asked Stan, "So, uh, you ever want to like, hang out? Or something?" Then he added, "I mean… without Rebecca," for which he did give her an apologetic look, okay, he wasn't that much of an asshole, but he wasn't going to blow his chances here by having Stan think he meant all three of them. So deal with it, Rebecca, you can hang out with Annie or your brother or whatever.

It was such a relief when Stan's face lit up and he said, "Yeah, sure, that sounds awesome!"

"Okay," Kyle said, absolutely giddy on the inside but doing his best to hide it. "How about Saturday? Say, one o'clock? Are you free then?"

"Yeah, that's good," Stan replied with the most adorable smile.

So they ended up making plans for Saturday to go fishing in the Canals. Kyle was absolutely delighted, and he bid adieu to his new friend Stan with the biggest grin, knowing he would see him again in just a few days.

To make matters even better, he and Rebecca were only five minutes late getting back to school, and Victoria didn't even seem to notice, too preoccupied in explaining to some younger students that Portals were not garbage bins, this is very serious, you guys, the Kirin Tor can't be wasting their time picking up your trash in the Twisting Nether!

As Kyle and Rebecca were writing down their daily progress notes, Rebecca, who had been silent up until now, muttered, "You have a crush on him."

Kyle looked at her, aghast. "No I don't! How dare you even suggest that!" he rasped. "What's wrong with you?"

"You do," she repeated, blandly, which was almost worse than if she had been taunting him.

She had such a way of getting under his skin! "And you don't, little Miss 'I-Want-to-Come-to-Westfall-Too'?"

Rebecca scowled. Then she muttered, "Well, I'm a girl."

"Irrelevant! Utterly irrelevant!" Kyle shot back, his volume increasing as he became more irritated and embarrassed.

Victoria shot him a look, which only made him more embarrassed.

Whispering, Kyle hissed to Rebecca, "Look, just – get the fel over yourself and stop being so jealous."

"You're Netherspawn, Kyle," Rebecca said in a low voice.

"Netherspawn with a hot date on Saturday."