The Sundering

Twelve

As Malfurion stirred from unconsciousness, pain struck him over what seemed every inch of his body. It was almost enough to send him back to the darkness, but a sense of urgency pushed him on. Slowly, the druid began to register sounds and, just as significant, the lack of sounds.

He opened his eyes and was greeted by the soft shadow of night. Thankful for once to avoid the glare of daylight, Malfurion pushed his aching form up to a sitting position, then surveyed the region.

He let out a gasp.

Some yards beyond and half-buried in a crater no doubt caused by the collision, the dragon Korialstrasz lay still.

“He — he lives…” managed a rumpled figure rising like a specter from the grave. “I — I can readily assure you of th-that.”

“Krasus?”

The mage stumbled toward him, looking more gaunt and pale than ever. “Not… not the circumstances I had planned for our reunion.”

Taking hold of the elder spellcaster, Malfurion guided him over to a rock and made Krasus sit. “What happened? How do you come to be here?”

Taking a deep breath, the robed figure explained how he had led the black dragon on a chase, trying to buy time for the night elf and the orc. As he spoke, Krasus seemed to recover much of his strength, something the night elf attributed to the other’s amazing background.

Then, Malfurion recalled mention of their other comrade. “Brox!” he blurted, looking around. “Is he — ”

“The orc lives. I think his hide and skull even stronger than a dragon’s. He came to me just as I stirred. I believe he is out trying to locate food and water, our own destroyed in the crash.” Krasus shook his head and continued, “We may also thank Korialstrasz for our relative health. He did what he could to protect us — including a hasty spell — at cost to himself.” The mage said the last proudly.

“Shall I try to heal him as I did once before?”

“No… the last time, you drew upon the strength of a healthy land. Here, you might have to draw too much on yourself. He would understand. There is another way.” Krasus did not explain what it was, though, instead saying, “As to how the two of us came to be together, Korialstrasz found me as I lay recuperating from a narrow escape from the black one. He had slain a guardian of Deathwing’s, then feared — rightly, as it turned out — that something had gone wrong with our plan to steal the disk.”

With Krasus astride, they had taken a circuitous route to avoid both Deathwing and any other sentinels he might have stationed, then had followed as best they could the tell-tale trace magic Krasus detected from the Demon Soul. Unfortunately, they had not found the pair until after those from the palace had captured them and taken the disk.

“That was your brother with them, was it not, Malfurion?”

The druid hung his head. “Yes. He… I don’t know what to tell you, Krasus!”

“Illidan bears their taint,” the mage said pointedly. “You would do best to remember that and remember well.” There was something in his tone that hinted of more knowledge in respect to Malfurion’s twin, but Krasus did not elaborate.

“What do we do now? Do we go after the Demon Soul?”

“I think we must… but first, you need to tell me everything you can about what transpired before my arrival.”

Nodding, Malfurion detailed his and Brox’s capture, the taking of the malevolent disk, and the arduous journey. Each time it was necessary to mention Illidan, Malfurion nearly choked.

Krasus listened stone-faced, even when the night elf described as best as he could recall for what purpose they hoped to utilize the Demon Soul. Only when Malfurion had finished did the mage respond.

“It is an even more foul scenario than I had imagined…” he muttered, half speaking to himself. “They will have planned this… and yet… and yet, in it there may be some hope…”

“Hope?” Malfurion could hardly see any hope in what he had told the other.

“Yes…” Krasus rose. Steepling his fingers, he rested his chin on them as he considered further. “If we can only make them listen.”

“Who?”

“The Aspects.”

The night elf was incredulous. “But we can’t! They’ve shut themselves away, even from you! If Korialstrasz were conscious, then — ”

“Yes,” interrupted the dragon mage. “And it is Korialstrasz who, in part, may aid us in bringing them out… if I know She Who is Life as I do.”

His words made little sense to Malfurion, but the druid had gotten used to that somewhat. If Krasus had some plan in mind, the night elf would do whatever he could to help.

The rattle of loose rock presaged Brox’s return. Unfortunately, the orc returned empty-handed.

“No stream… no puddle. No food… not even insects,” the warrior reported. “I have failed, elder one.”

“You have done as best as you could, Brox. This is a dismal land, even so far from Deathwing’s domain.”

At mention of the black scourge’s new name, Malfurion tensed. “Do you think that he might still come after us?”

“I would be astounded if he did not. We must attempt something before that happens.” Krasus peered over his shoulder at the unmoving form of Korialstrasz. “I give thanks that this Captain Varo’then used the Demon Soul in haste, or else we would all be ash. Korialstrasz can recover — and I know that — but, it is up to us to make contact first. And by us, I mean you, night elf.”

“Me?”

As Krasus’s eyes narrowed, Malfurion noticed for the first time how reptilian they were. “Yes. You must walk the Emerald Dream again. You must find its mistress, Ysera.”

“But we’ve already attempted that since the dragons were driven off by the Demon Soul and she’s refused to respond.”

“Then, this time you must tell her that Alexstrasza must know that Korialstrasz is dying.”

Aghast, Malfurion looked at the huge body, but Krasus immediately shook his head. “No! Trust me… I would be the first to fear that. Just tell Ysera. She cannot but help alert She Who is Life of this.”

“You want me to lie to the mistress of the dream realm?”

“There is no other choice.”

Thinking about it, the druid saw that his comrade made sense. Only a warning of such magnitude might gain one of the Aspects’ attention. They would not think Malfurion so foolish as to risk their wrath with a false story.

There remained only the question as to what would happen when the dragon discovered that he had lied.

But Malfurion could not think about that. He trusted in Krasus’s judgment. “I’ll do it.”

“I will try to watch over you. Brox, I leave it to you to protect both of us, if necessary.”

The orc bowed. “My honor, elder one.”

As he had done in the past, Malfurion sat with legs folded and cleared his mind first of all outside disturbances, then worked on easing the aches of his body. As the pain receded, he focused on the mythic realm.

Even despite his present condition, the night elf discovered it easier than ever to enter the Emerald Dream. The only unsettling sensation was a warmth at the points where the two small nubs on his forehead were located. Malfurion wanted to reach up and touch them in order to see if there had been any change, but knew that his first priority was finding Ysera.

He considered searching for her across the elemental landscape, then realized that, being who she was, all he had to theoretically do was call out to her. Whether or not the Aspect responded was another matter entirely.

Lady of the Emerald Dream, Malfurion called in his mind. She of the Dreaming… Ysera…

The druid sensed no other presence, but knew that he had to continue. She was here, somewhere… or everywhere. Ysera would hear him.

Ysera… I bring dire news for She Who is Life… the consort of Alexstrasza… Korialstrasz… is dying… Malfurion pictured the scene, trying to give the one he sought to contact some notion as to where the male dragon lay. Korialstrasz is dying…

He waited. Surely now the mistress of the dream realm would appear. How could she not at least investigate such potential tragedy?

Time was a nebulous thing in the Emerald Dream, but it still passed. Malfurion waited and waited, yet of the green dragon, he sensed nothing.

There came a point when at last he knew that to hope any longer would simply prove folly. Deflated by his failure, the druid returned to his body.

Krasus’s anxious gaze met his own. “She responded?”

“No… there was nothing.”

The mage looked away, frowning. “But she should’ve responded,” he muttered half to himself. “She knows what it would mean to Alexstrasza…”

“I did as you said,” the druid insisted, not wanting Krasus to find fault with his effort. “Said everything as you suggested.”

The robed figure patted him on the shoulder. “I know you did, Malfurion. Of you, I have the utmost faith. It is a — ”

“Dragon!”

Brox’s warning cry came just before the behemoth materialized through the clouds. Malfurion focused on those clouds, hoping that he could urge them to some effort against the attacker.

But not only was it not a black dragon who approached, its very appearance made Krasus laugh heartily. Both the night elf and the druid gazed with some concern at their senior comrade.

“She comes! I should have realized that she herself would seek to discover the truth about such dire news!”

A crimson dragon the size of Deathwing hovered overhead. As Malfurion studied her, he recognized certain traits and knew that he had seen this particular giant before.

Alexstrasza, the Aspect of Life, landed anxiously next to the body of Korialstrasz. Even despite her reptilian appearance, the night elf recognized the all too common traits of fear and concern.

“He cannot be dead!” she bellowed. “I will not permit it!

” Krasus strode up next to the prone male, displaying himself before the red female. “And he is not, as you can so plainly see, my queen!”

Her consternation changed to confusion and then to anger. Alexstrasza thrust her head down toward the tiny mage, her maw coming within arm’s length of his body.

“You of all who know me know what a bitter jest that was! I feared that — that you — and he — ”

“Not for the lack of the Demon Soul’s trying,” he returned. “If its current wielder had not been so unversed in its usage, you would see four dead here.”

“You will explain yourself in a moment,” the dragon snapped. “But first I must see to him.”

She leaned over Korialstrasz, spreading her wings wide so as to encompass the male’s entire form. As she did, a golden radiance surrounded the great Aspect, one that quickly enveloped Korialstrasz as well. A gentle warmth touched Malfurion, easing his troubled mind. It occurred to him that here was a being as much a part of his calling as Ysera, possibly more. Druids worked with the natural life forces of the world and who better represented that than Alexstrasza? “He has suffered much,” the dragon stated, her expression softening. “The Demon Soul, as you have rightly declared that abomination, caused him great harm… but, yes, he will recover completely… given the opportunity, that is.”

The golden aura receded. Turning her massive head to the sky, Alexstrasza let out a great roar.

To the party’s surprise, two more gargantuan reds dropped through the clouds. They circled once, then alighted near opposite ends of Korialstrasz. Once near, they still proved to be smaller than their queen, but on par with the unconscious male.

“Your command, my queen?”

“Take him back to the lair and place him in the Grotto of the Shadow Rose. He will mend better in mind and soul there. Treat him gently, Tyran.”

The larger of the two newcomers bowed his head respectfully. “Of course, I shall, my queen.”

“You will find there will be some more memory loss,” Krasus interjected, not at all overawed by the presence of so many dragons. But then, he was one, also, Malfurion had to remind himself. “Those shall never be recovered,” the mage added.

“Perhaps that is for the best,” she returned, gazing at the tiny figure with the utmost fondness.

“As I thought.”

Krasus stepped back as the two males — Alexstrasza’s other consorts, apparently — carefully seized Korialstrasz, then took to the air. The Aspect, meanwhile, turned her full attention to the cowled figure. The fondness had become mixed with annoyance.

“It was not a particularly pleasant trick you played! Ysera alerted me immediately and although it was against my better judgment, I immediately came to investigate — as you knew I would!”

“If I have been remiss,” Krasus answered, bowing deep. “I accept your anger and your punishment.”

The huge dragon hissed. “You have me here and you speak of the Demon Soul in another’s grip! How does this all come to pass?”

Without preamble, the mage went into the tale. Alexstrasza’s expression changed several times and some of her anger faded. By the end of the story, disbelief dominated her emotions.

“Into the sanctum of Neltharion himself! It is a wonder that any of you live!” She cocked her head as she studied Krasus. “But, from you, I am growing less surprised by such actions. It is only a shame that after so much effort, the disk ends up in the clutches of those as monstrous in their own way as the Earth Warder has become.”

“Yet, this seeming disaster offers us potential for salvaging at least some part of Kalimdor, my queen. The greatest goal they have is to bring into our world their master, Sargeras…”

“And they will use the Demon Soul to do that!”

“Yes… which means that they can wield it for no other purpose during that attempt.” Krasus met her gaze defiantly. “The dragons will have nothing to fear from it. This is the moment when the Legion will be at its most vulnerable…”

“But the disk — ”

“This is the one chance when you might seize it, as well,” he pointed out. “And if you cannot destroy it, you can certainly bind it so that Deathwing will never be able to wield it again.”

“Deathwing,” she growled. “So appropriate for him now. There is no more Neltharion, no more Earth Warder. Truly, he is Deathwing… and you are right, this is our one chance to make certain that his foul creation troubles us no more.”

Although it clearly slipped past Alexstrasza’s attention, Malfurion noticed Krasus’s expression briefly darken. In some manner, the mage had not been entirely honest with the dragon. The night elf said nothing, trusting that whatever secret Krasus held back, he held it back for good reason.

“Malygos will be of no use to us, I regret to say,” the gigantic red murmured. “And the Timeless One is still missing, but his flight stands with us. Ysera’s flight and mine will fly united, also…” Alexstrasza nodded. “Yes, it is possible. You are correct. I will speak with her and the consorts of Nozdormu. I should be able to convince them.”

“Quickly, I hope.”

“I can only promise to try.” She spread her wings, but before the dragon could take off, Krasus signaled again for her attention. “You have more to say?”

“Only this. The Old Gods seek to use the disk, too, and they manipulate the Legion.”

Her eyes widened so much that Malfurion was taken aback. Alexstrasza caught herself, then demanded, “You are certain of this?

“There is question… but, yes.”

“Then I must make doubly certain of convincing the rest. Is that all or do you have another surprise?”

Krasus shook his head. “But it is paramount that we return to the host and try to convince their commander to coordinate with the flights. All can still easily go awry if we do not. Can you aid us in our journey? I fear my powers un-trustworthy at this time.”

The queen considered. “Yes, I have something I can quickly do. Stand far back, all of you.”

As Krasus and the others quickly obeyed, Alexstrasza once more stretched her wings. At the same time, the golden radiance returned a hundredfold stronger, yet, now it concentrated most behind the dragon. So bright was it that Alexstrasza’s shadow lay well-defined before the trio, covering the landscape where once Korialstrasz had lain.

The dragon queen uttered words that made no sense to Malfurion save that he felt the power that each syllable contained. Alexstrasza cast a spell of terrible potency… but for what purpose?

The ground before the night elf rumbled. Brox grunted, eyeing the earth as if it were a foe. The hard surface started to rise…

And with a grinding sound, one vast piece broke free. Something about it struck the druid as familiar, but, only when another, similar portion tore loose farther away did Malfurion understand.

They were wings. The rising earth perfectly matched the outline of the Aspect’s shadow. Even as the rock wings flapped once, another, more sinewy section joined them in life — and immediately opened its maw to unleash a cry identical in tone to that earlier uttered by Alexstrasza.

A stone replica of the dragon queen pulled itself free of the ground.

In all ways, it looked like a perfect carving of the great red, save in color. Even the eyes bore the same wisdom, the same care, that he had seen in hers.

The two giants stood side by side, the reproduction watching the original. The glow faded from Alexstrasza and she focused on Krasus.

“She will do for you as I would do for you.”

The mage looked humbled. “I am not worthy of you, my queen.”

Alexstrasza snorted. “If you were not, I would not be here.”

The stone version raised its — her — head in what was recognizable as mirth, then also looked down at Krasus.

“I go now to convince the others,” the red added. “I feel certain that all will be as we hope.”

“Beware! Deathwing will still desire his abomination!”

She gave him a knowing look. “I am familiar with him of old. We will keep him from interfering.”

With that, Alexstrasza leapt into the air. She circled over the party once, her gaze upon Krasus in particular. Then, with a last sweep, the Aspect soared up into the clouds.

“If only I could tell her…” the cowled figure whispered.

“Tell her what?”

Krasus frowned as he eyed the druid. “Nothing… nothing that I dare change.” His expression shifted back to determination. “We have the means by which to return swiftly to our comrades! Let us not waste it…”

But Malfurion was not finished. “Krasus… who are ‘The Old Gods’ of whom you spoke?”

“A terrible evil. I will say no more, but know this. To defeat the Legion is to defeat them…”

Malfurion doubted it was all that simple, yet the night elf chose not to pursue his questioning any further… at least for the time being.

The stone dragon bent low as the three approached. Malfurion marveled at the fluidity of the creature, the grace with which such a thing could mimic true life. It showed the power of the Aspect, that she could create such a wondrous imitation of herself.

With Krasus in the lead, the trio climbed atop near the shoulders. Once aboard, the size difference between Alexstrasza and Korialstrasz became even more apparent.

“You will find that the scales will shift as readily as on a true dragon,” Krasus explained. “Slip your feet in behind them to secure yourself better, then hold on as you generally do. She will be faster than Korialstrasz.”

Their mount waited until all three had settled in, then, with a roar worthy of the dragon queen, she flapped her heavy wings and took off. Krasus had not been exaggerating. Even before the golem leveled out, she had already flown some distance.

The miles quickly raced by as they flew. The night elf gazed over the stone leviathan’s shoulder, still not used to flying, especially so high.

“Couldn’t we have followed Illidan and the others and taken the disk back?” he asked the mage.

“Even if we had caught up with them, it is most likely that we would have suffered a similar, if not more lethal, fate than previous. If they are not well into the Legion-held lands already, I would be surprised. As frustrating as it is for me to say this, our chances greatly improve once they deliver the Demon Soul to the palace.”

Malfurion grew silent. Everything that Krasus said made sense, but the very notion of just letting the demons have the disk — if only to distract them for a time — repelled the druid immensely.

Yet, it did not repel him as much as the fact that it was his own brother who had personally made such a dire event possible.

You have pleased me very much… the voice from within the portal grated. So very much…

Illidan and Captain Varo’then knelt before the fiery hole, Malfurion’s brother revealing none of his thoughts as he listened to the demon lord’s praise. He and Azshara’s underling had left the rest of their party behind once they had entered the ravaged regions conquered by the Legion. Illidan had not wanted to dare a spell transporting them until that point, for he highly respected the black dragon’s own skills. The Earth Warder might have seized upon their spell and brought them to him, not a fate at all enticing.

The duo had materialized in this very chamber before the startled gaze of Mannoroth, the high-ranking demon’s disconcerted expression a bonus for not only the sorcerer but apparently Varo’then, too. However, before Mannoroth’s surprise could fully transform to outrage, Sargeras had reached out from the beyond to demand if his servants had accomplished their mission.

Informed that they had, Sargeras now lavished praise on them. Such only further frustrated the demon lord’s lieutenant, but his devotion — and fear — of Sargeras obviously outweighed any animosities. However, clearly trying to gain some bit of glory for himself, Mannoroth immediately rumbled, “Very well done, indeed, mortals!” He stretched out one meaty paw toward Varo’then. “I’ll take that now so that I can prepare the spell for the portal.”

Although he showed nothing on the outside, Illidan’s heart jumped. Now, of all times, the sorcerer had no desire to give over the disk to a demon. Still kneeling, he gazed up at both the waiting giant and the portal. “With all due respect, Lord Mannoroth, the intricate magicks of the dragon’s creation are better wielded by myself, who now understands them best thanks to our master’s gift.”

To emphasize his point, Illidan raised up the scarf. Even Mannoroth grimaced at the sight.

“He makes a valid point,” the captain interjected. “But as the current bearer of the disk, I respectfully suggest it is the great one who shall decide who wields it in order to strengthen the portal.”

Both the sorcerer and the demon glanced with annoyance at the soldier, who stared straight into the abyss and paid neither any more attention.

“Of course, it’s Sargeras who decides,” Malfurion’s twin quickly agreed.

“None other,” echoed Mannoroth.

There can be but one wielder, the demon lord’s voice declared. And that one shall be… me…

His pronouncement caught all of them offguard, but, especially Illidan. This was not — this could not be — the outcome. Everything hinged on his manipulating the disk.

Almost the instant he thought that, Illidan immediately checked the mental shields that he had built around his innermost thoughts. Secure in the knowledge that Sargeras could not have possibly detected anything, he focused on this new problem. There had to be some way…

“With all due respect, great one,” the sorcerer dared interrupt. “The portal is a night elven creation and so in the manipulation of it with the disk — ”

The portal is no longer a concern… not now that I have the dragon’s toy…

The words reverberated in the heads of each. Illidan, Captain Varo’then, and Mannoroth stared uncomprehendingly at the monstrous gap. Even the Highborne, who continuously strained to keep the portal together, almost paused, so stunned were they.

The disk shall open the way, as planned, but through a medium more trustworthy than this pathetic little hole… The gap pulsated. One more powerful, more certain to hold when bound with the power of you have brought me… I speak, of course, of the Well itself…