Night of the Dragon

spellcaster.

Zzeraku—the blood elf remembered the nether dragon calling himself—shimmered, seeming ready to melt into mist. Yet, the strands holding him prisoner did not permit the Outland beast to even escape to death. They held Zzeraku mercilessly, tightening further at the mistress's silent command.

More and more of the nether dragon's magic—and essence, in fact—poured into the swollen egg, where it continually intertwined with that of the two spellcasters. Zendarln almost expected the egg to explode, so out of proportion had it grown....

And, indeed, one side suddenly developed a crack.

But this did not enrage or frustrate either, for, the next moment, it was clear that the crack was not due to their work, not directly. Rather, the cause could be found within... a cause eager now to be free.

The egg was hatching.

In the glow of the ensorcelled egg, the face of Zendarin's companion was more monstrous to behold than even those of the skardyn. An inhuman quality filled her expression... not surprising, as the sorceress was no more human—indeed, even less so—than the blood elf.

'Yes... my child...' she murmured, almost sounding motherly. 'Yes... come to me...'

Another crack developed next to the first. A fragment of the shell fell away—

From within, an eye peered out... an eye such as neither had ever seen.

An eye, despite this being the birth, that spoke of cunning, of evil... far, far more ancient.

The bay that separated the lands of Lordaeron, and Dalaran in particular, from where Grim Batol lay, was wide, but should have taken Korialstrasz no more than five hours to cross. Yet, only midway out, the red dragon was forced to land upon a small rock formation jutting out of the turbulent water and perch upon it like a sea gull while he rested. Korialstrasz could only assume that the sorcerous shaft's crystal head had weakened him more than he had expected.

But he had little opportunity for recuperation, for suddenly a storm assailed him, a tempest of such abrupt violence that the crimson behemoth instantly gave up all notion of rest. Dragging himself into the air, he instead continued on his way.

But the elements were clearly against him, for the storm only worsened. As powerful as he was, Korialstrasz was yet tossed about like a leaf. He immediately headed toward the clouds, thinking to fly above the storm, but though he fought hard to reach them, they stayed well overhead.

And that at last warned the red giant that this storm was not so natural after all.

Rather than struggle to reach the unreachable, Korialstrasz tried a more direct flight toward Grim Batol. The moment he did, the wind exploded from that direction, buffeting him so hard that the dragon felt as if he had struck a mountain.

He did not believe in happenstance. This was a spell, yes, though whether directed at him in particular or merely to hunt a dragon was a question he had no time to answer. What mattered foremost was escaping it.

Logic suggested that he fight magic with magic... and yet, Korialstrasz was not so certain of the wisdom of that. Yet, he could think of no other immediate course. Thus, steeling himself against the raging storm, the red dragon struck at the dark clouds.

No sooner had he done so than he was attacked by a raging hurricane tenfold stronger than before. A barrage of lightning pounded him, and the gale force winds turned the dragon upside down. He could see little past his snout, for the rain fell in a pounding torrent.

And even as Korialstrasz struggled against vertigo, he was painfully aware that it was his own power that had now multiplied the storm's effect... just as the mysterious caster had no doubt intended.

Around and around, the dragon spun. The clouds became the sea beneath and the sea the sky. Korialstrasz saw no choice; he could not reach those clouds. There remained but one alternative, even ifit was likely the one his unseen adversary wished him to take.

Arcing, Korialstrasz dove into the swirling waters.

He was certain of his error the moment that he submerged, but could not look back. Even despite his keen eyesight, Korialstrasz could see little. The waters of the vast bay turned to black only scant yards beneath him, again, no natural thing. A monster several times his size might be rising up to swallow him and the dragon would not see it.

Some dragons were born to the water, but red dragons were very much creatures of the sky, however well they could swim. Korialstrasz could hold his breath for more than an hour, assuming nothing tried to force that breath from him. Still, the sooner he was back in the air, the better.

Voices began whispering in his head.

A new wave of vertigo overwhelmed Korialstrasz. He could not tell the depths from the surface. The dragon immediately thrust upward, but instead of the storm, all that greeted him was a blackness that chilled to the soul.

And the voices grew stronger, chanting in a tongue Korlalstrasz thought that he should know. He fought against their seductive call, aware that each moment he remained caught in their snare made his hopes of surviving monumentally lesser.

Now, there was only the darkness. The deep waters squeezed at Korlalstrasz's lungs, which made the crimson leviathan wonder if he had been submerged longer than he thought. There was no sense of time, no sense of place... only the chanting voices.

Iwill not be undone by this! the dragon swore. He imagined another countenance, that of his beloved queen and mate, Alexstrasza. Yet, her image was faded, and growing more so, a dangerous sign.

But that only served to make him more determined. Summoning his strength, Korialstrasz cast a desperate spell.

Light erupted around him, searing away the darkness of the depths.

In it, the dragon beheld the source of his troubles... naga.

He knew their origins, knew them because he was, to his mind at least, in part to blame for their creation. Once, they had been of the night elf race, the Highborne who had served the mad queen, Azshara. When the source of their great power, the fearsome Well of Eternity, had imploded due to the efforts of a few staunch defenders but especially the young druid, Malfurion Stormrage, it had sucked the great capital of the night elves to the bottom of a newly-created sea. With the city had gone Azshara and her fanatic followers, supposedly to their doom.

It would not be until millennia later that Korialstrasz and the world would discover that a mysterious force had transformed those trapped beneath the waves into something worse.

The incredible explosion of light had caught the naga completely unaware. Several swirled about in utter confusion, stunned by the spell's intensity. As naga, they no longer much resembled elves of any sort. The females upon whom Korialstrasz now set his baleful gaze had some vague similarities remaining, mostly in their slimmer, upper torsos and their faces, which retained the long, narrow design of night elves. They were even beautiful, if in a monstrous way. Yet, no elven race sported four wicked arms that ended in long, taloned fingers, nor did any have the wide, veined fins of gold that blossomed sharply from the head all the way down to the naga's tall.

And tails were all there were below the waist, for long gone were the sleek legs. The lower halves were those of massive serpents, segmented and scaled. They twisted back and forth constantly, giving the naga swiftness and incredible maneuverability in the water.

The males had degenerated even more than the females, their heads low and reptilian, with teeth that jutted out from both the top and bottom of the long maw like a crocodile. Their eyes were deep set and narrow, and their crests and fins, which jutted as sharply as spears in places, were of a darker gold and brown shade. Their torsos were less in contrast to their serpentine lower bodies, being also scaled and segmented. Even their arms, massive compared to most creatures their size, were covered so.

There had developed, over the generations, many tribes of naga, but these aqua and black scaled fiends with their golden fins were of a type of which Korialstrasz knew nothing, save that they were clearly both powerful and of evil mind. That was all he needed to know. Naga in general had no love for those who lived above the surface, but these had gone well out of their way to set a tremendous trap.