would not leave the others.”
“But your condition—”
Flexing his wings, Korialstrasz replied, “He has devised a manner by which we are both nearly whole. It is not perfect, but it is the best we could do.”
“Most interesting …”
“Tyran … what happens here? Why are the other flights among our own?”
The elder consort’s expression grew veiled. “She has commanded that she be the one to tell you all and I will not disobey her.”
“Of course not.”
With Tyranastrasz in the lead, the pair wended their way into the lair of the red flight. Korialstrasz could not help but eye the other dragons as they passed among them. The greens were mere flitting shadows, gone before one realized they were even there, and made more disconcerting by the fact that they ever kept their eyes closed, as if sleepwalking. The bronze figures of Nozdormu’s flight seemed not to move at all, but somehow were elsewhere whenever he blinked. As for the blues, they appeared here, there, everywhere in almost random fashion, darting about through the use of magic as much as physical movement. The more Korialstrasz saw of them, the more he welcomed the stable, solid presence of his own kind. When they moved, they moved. When they rushed to one destination, he could follow their every step, see their every breath.
Of course, in all fairness, he suspected that the newcomers felt the same way about their respective flights.
So many different dragons, and yet we all fit in here, he suddenly thought. Are we so few as all that, then? Had they tried to crowd the night elves or dwarves in this mountain, either lesser race would have filled it to overflowing, yet the dragons ever found room to maneuver.
Thinking of the endless horde that was the Burning Legion, Korialstrasz wondered if even the dragons had the strength to stop them.
But as he entered the next chamber, his fears melted away. She stood there as if waiting for him in particular. Her simple presence filled the male with calm, with peace. When she looked his way, Korialstrasz felt confidence. All would be well. The Queen of Life would see that it was so.
“Korialstrasz … my beloved.” Only her eyes gave indication of how much force that simple sentence had. The lesser creatures might often see dragons only as savage beasts, but even the best of them could not possibly match the intensity of emotions Korialstrasz’s kind wielded.
“My queen, my existence.” He bent his head low in homage.
“It is good that you are back. We feared for you.”
“As I feared in return. No one answered my summons, or explained the sudden silence.”
“It was necessary,” the huge female responded. Despite the sleekness of her form, Alexstrasza outweighed her consorts by half again as much. Like all of the great Aspects, she commanded forces that dwarfed those of even her mates. “The demand for secrecy is paramount.”
“Secrecy? For what?”
She studied him. “Krasus is not with you?”
He noted her tremendous concern. She worried about Krasus as she would have Korialstrasz. “He chose to stay behind. He managed a trick that enables us to spend our time apart from each other without suffering … much.”
A brief smile spread across her scaled visage. “Of course he would.”
Before Korialstrasz could pursue the line of conversation to what he desired to know about Krasus, another entered the high chamber from the right. Korialstrasz looked at the new arrival, and his eyes widened.
“It is necessary that all dragons take part in this ritual,” the black giant rumbled, his voice like a smoldering volcano. “Mine have already done so. The other flights must now do the same.”
Neltharion filled the other end of the chamber, the only one who could possibly match Alexstrasza in size and power. The Earth Warder radiated an intensity that made Korialstrasz a bit uncomfortable.
“My final consort is here,” Alexstrasza returned. “The bronze flight has come and although Nozdormu is not with them, they have brought that which is part of his essence so that he, too, will be joined with us in this struggle. That leaves only Krasus, a single entity. Is that so terrible a thing?”
The ebony dragon tilted his head. Never had Korialstrasz seen so many teeth. “One dragon only … no … I think not.”
“What is this about?” the younger male dared ask.
“The demons have reopened the way to our world,” Alexstrasza explained. “Once more, they flow through like water, doubling their strength with each passing day.”
Korialstrasz imagined the monstrous army and what its numbers had already accomplished. “Then we must act!”
“We are. Neltharion has devised a plan, possibly the only hope for our world’s survival.”
“What is it?”
“Neltharion must show you.”
The ebony behemoth nodded, then closed his eyes. The air shimmered before him. A sense of astounding power touched Korialstrasz’s magical senses. He felt as if the chamber had filled with a thousand dragons.
But instead, a tiny, almost insignificant little golden disk materialized in the air, hovering just below eye level for the gathered leviathans. Korialstrasz sensed nothing within it, yet somehow knew that very fact meant the disk was much, much more than it seemed.
The Earth Warder opened his eyes, an expression of exaltation spreading over his reptilian features. To Korialstrasz, it was as if Neltharion worshipped his creation.
“Behold that which will exorcise the demons from our world!” the black leviathan thundered. “Behold that which will cleanse the lands of all taint!”
The tiny disk flared bright, suddenly no longer insignificant to the eye. Now, the young red male felt the full extent of the powers within … and understood why even Alexstrasza believed it to be their best recourse.
“Behold,” Neltharion roared proudly. “The Dragon Soul.”
FIVE
Captain Varo’then was not one to be made ill at ease by shadows and noises. He confronted all such things with the same dour earthiness with which he did everything else in his life. The scarred soldier had been born to the role of warrior and, despite his inherent cunning, never saw himself in any other role. He had no desire to be king or consort save that it would then place him even closer to Azshara. He commanded his forces in her name and was satisfied with that. The political machinations he had always left to Lord Xavius, who understood and savored them far more than Varo’then ever could.
But of late, his mind had been forced to turn to paths other than those of battle. That had to do with the return of one he had assumed quite dead … Xavius himself. Now the queen’s advisor, brought back from the afterlife by the astounding power of the great Sargeras, again guided the will of the Highborne. That should have not
