Neltharion, who was mere Korialstrasz to say otherwise?
And with that thought still hanging over him, the red opened himself up to the Dragon Soul.
The disk flared, bathing him in its daunting illumination. Korialstrasz bared his chest to it and willed away all the natural magical defenses dragons kept about themselves. He felt the Dragon Soul reach into him as he had seen it do to the others, reach in as if his armored hide were nothing but illusion…
Seconds later, the unsettling force reemerged from his chest-but with it the Dragon Soul drew something else. It was an intangible, squirming thing-not exactly light, not exactly substance. A faint crimson aura surrounded it, and as the last bit separated from Korialstrasz, he felt a loss that saddened him.
Steeling himself, the red watched as the illumination of the Dragon Soul pulled the offering toward it. Slowly, the light sank back into the disk.
As that which the Dragon Soul had taken from him followed suit, Korialstrasz gasped. He wanted to reach out and take back what was his, but to do so would destroy the effort and, worse, shame him before his beloved Alexstrasza.
And so Korialstrasz watched helplessly as the Dragon Soul absorbed his essence, added it to the others. He watched helplessly as Neltharion snatched the disk almost covetously and held it before the other leviathans.
'It is done…' the Earth Warder declared. 'All have given that which must be given. I now seal the Dragon Soul forever so that what has been attained will never be lost.'
Neltharion shut his eyes. His body took on a black, ominous aura, one that flowed from him to the tiny but mighty talisman in his forepaw.
The other great dragons started. For a moment, a very brief but telling moment, the Dragon Soul burned as black as its creator.
'Should that be?' asked Ysera quietly.
'For it to be as it must, yes,' Neltharion replied almost defiantly.
'It is a weapon like no other. It must be like no other,' added the knowledgeable Malygos.
The Earth Warder nodded his appreciation for the blue dragon's words. Neltharion gazed around the chamber, seeing if anyone had further questions. A few came to Korialstrasz's mind, but he felt unworthy to ask them in the face of his queen's satisfaction with events.
'The final casting will take time,' the black leviathan informed the others. 'It has to be taken from here to a place of silence and privacy, where the most delicate castings will be made.'
'How long?' asked Alexstrasza. 'It must not be too late.'
'It will be ready when it needs be ready.' And with that, Neltharion spread his wings and rose into the air. His mates followed suit almost perfectly, like puppets whose strings were attached to the Earth Warder.
The other dragons watched as he vanished through what seemed the solid wall of the chamber, then also began taking off. Alexstrasza remained where she was, and so Korialstrasz did likewise.
But as his gaze followed the departing behemoths, his thoughts continued to reflect upon what they had wrought this day. He could never deny the incredible power of the tiny, golden disk. Truly, Neltharion had crafted a weapon the likes of which even the endless hordes of the demons could not stand against.
Nor, for that matter, he realized belatedly, even dragons.
Eight
Malfurion dreamed. He dreamed that he and Tyrande lived in a beautiful tree home in the midst of grand Suramar. It was the high time of the year and all was in bloom. Lush plant life covered the region like a beautiful carpet. The immense tree cooled them with its thick, shading foliage, and flowers of all colors and patterns surrounded the trunk's base.
Tyrande, clad in a glorious gown of yellow, green, and orange, played a silver lyre while their children, a boy and a girl, darted around the tree, giggling and laughing as they ran. Malfurion sat near the window of his proud abode, breathing in the fresh air and savoring the life he had attained. The world was at peace, and his family knew nothing but happiness…
Then, a violent tremor shook the tree. Malfurion clutched the window and saw with horror the homes and towers of Suramar quickly tumble over. Other structures collapsed. People screamed, and massive fires burst to life in every direction.
He looked for his children, but they were nowhere to be found. As for his mate, Tyrande continued to sit on one of the thick branches just outside, her fingers strumming a tune on the lyre.
Daring to lean out, Malfurion shouted, 'Tyrande! Come inside! Quickly!'
But she ignored him, blithely caught up in her music despite the growing catastrophe and her own precarious position.
The tree house abruptly tipped. Malfurion tried using his druidic powers to keep it from collapsing, but nothing happened. The tree-all the flora-felt dead to his senses.
The house's fall finally awoke Tyrande. Dropping the lyre, she screamed and reached for Malfurion, but the distance was too great. Malfurion's mate lost her balance and slipped off the branch-
But a figure in black swiftly rose into the air, readily catching her. Illidan smiled magnanimously at Tyrande, then nodded congenially to his brother. However, instead of coming to Malfurion's aid, the other twin began to fly off with his catch.
'Illidan!' Malfurion shouted, trying to maintain his hold. 'Come back!'
His sibling paused in midair. Still holding Tyrande tight, he turned and laughed at Malfurion.
And as he laughed, Illidan transformed, growing larger, more horrific. His garments tore as armor hidden underneath burst through. His skin color darkened and a savage, jagged tail sprouted from behind him. A clawed hand held out the druid's mate over the ruined city, shaking her like a rag doll.
And Malfurion stared in horror as Archimonde dangled Tyrande before him-
'Nooo!'
He bolted upright, then nearly tumbled off the night saber upon which he had been half-sitting. Strong but slim fingers kept him from losing what remained of his balance and pulled him tight against an armored torso. Recalling Archimonde, the druid instinctively sought to pull away from that armor.
'Hush, Malfurion! Be careful!'
Tyrande's voice brought him completely back to consciousness. He gazed up into her concerned face. She had the helmet back so that he could fully see her features, a most welcome sight.
'I dreamt-' he began, then stopped. There were parts of his dream that were too personal to tell one who was not promised to him. 'I…dreamt,' Malfurion concluded apologetically.
'I know. I heard you speak. I thought I heard my name, and Illidan's.'
'Yes.' He dared not say more.
The priestess touched his cheek. 'It must've been a terrible dream, Malfurion…but at least you finally slept.'
Suddenly aware of his close proximity to her, the druid straightened. He looked around, noting for the first time the sea of figures surrounding them. Most were civilians, many of whom looked confused and completely out of their element. Few night elves had ever suffered much. This displacement surely had to have pushed many to the brink.
'Where are we?'
'Near Mount Hyjal.'
He gaped at the peak. 'So far? This can't be!'
'I'm afraid it is.'
Malfurion hung his head. So, after all their efforts, his people were still doomed. If the demons had already driven the defenders this far back, how could the night elves possibly hope to recover?
'Elune watches over us,' Tyrande whispered, reading his expression. 'I pray to her for guidance. She'll give us some reprieve, I'm certain.'
'I hope so. Where are the others?'
