Perhaps…perhaps if Malfurion dismantled the protective spell, then the others would realize the truth before it was too late.
Putting aside his disgust, he pushed deeper into the disk. Through his highly-trained senses, he located the spell's nexus. The druid began trying to unravel it-
A jolt like a thousand bolts of lightning instantly ravaged his ethereal form, almost tearing it to insubstantial shreds. Malfurion silently screamed. He looked for aid from Ysera, but to his horror she did not seem to note his agony.
But another did.
He did not look directly at the night elf, but his thoughts practically barreled over the stricken druid. In an instant, the madness of the Dragon Soul's creator became all too clear.
So! Neltharion roared even though on the mortal plane he continued speaking so politely and amiably with the others. You try to steal my glorious Dragon Soul!
A monstrous, invisible force compressed Malfurion from all sides. At first he stared in fear as his body contorted. Then he realized that the image he had of himself in his present state was just that-an image. Neltharion could have stretched him into a thin string and it would not have much affected the druid's health. That was not what the Earth Warder intended; he sought to crush Malfurion into a magical prison, preventing the intruder from giving any warning or touching the disk again.
Stirred on by dread memories of his confinement at the hands of Lord Xavius, Malfurion managed to break free of the spell before it sealed. He immediately turned his focus to Ysera, hoping she would yet sense his danger.
No! They will not interfere! Neltharion's mental presence was staggering. You will not betray all I have done! None of you will!
With Ysera still ignorant of his danger, the druid did the only thing he could think of-he abandoned the chamber and the mortal plane, retreating into the solitude of the Emerald Dream.
A calmness immediately surrounded him. He floated over the indistinct vision of the mountains where he had first contacted She of the Dreaming. Relieved, Malfurion tried to collect his thoughts.
With a roar, a huge shadowy form sought to swallow him whole.
Pulling back at the very last moment, the druid could not believe what had now happened; Neltharion had followed him into the dream realm! The dragon was even more terrible to behold here than in the mortal plane. His face was a distorted, diabolical caricature of its true self, every element of the evil with which the black had imbued the Dragon Soul evident in his jagged, disfigured countenance. Neltharion was twice as huge as in true life and his sharp claws spread for miles. His wings alone shadowed the entire mountain chain.
I will not surrender what is mine by right! Only I am fit to rule! You will tell no one!
Neltharion exhaled. Green flames filled the Emerald Dream.
Malfurion screamed as the fire engulfed his form. What the behemoth was doing should have been impossible; not only had he invaded Ysera's domain without her evidently knowing, but now he sought to burn away the druid's intangible essence.
Something that Cenarius had once taught him suddenly came to mind. Perception is deceptive, my student, his shan'do had told him. What you think must be is not always the truth. In the world of which you are now part as a druid, perception can become whatever you think it.
Not certain that he understood, but already nearly consumed, Malfurion denied the flames killing him. They could not exist as such here. They were, like his body and Neltharion's huge form, what he expected to be real, yet they were not. They were images, illusions.
And so the fire could not burn so much as one false hair on his imaginary head.
Both the agony and the flames vanished. Neltharion still remained, his face and form more distorted than ever. He eyed the tiny figure with some repugnance, as if he wondered how the druid had dared not to perish.
Not certain how lucky he might be against whatever next the Aspect might throw at him, Malfurion took the only route of escape remaining to him. He concentrated on his body, willing himself to return to it.
The green-tinted mountains suddenly flew away from him. Neltharion, too, dwindled swiftly in the distance. The druid felt the closeness of his own body-
No! came Neltharion's fearsome voice again. I will have you!
Just as the night elf felt himself re-entering his mortal form, something struck him hard. With a grunt, Malfurion, still half-asleep, fell back, his head hitting the hard, rocky ground. The last vestiges of the Emerald Dream disappeared, and with their going ceased the angry roar of the black dragon.
'Druid!' called another. 'Malfurion Stormrage! Can you hear me? Are you whole again?'
He tried to focus on the new speaker. 'K-Krasus?'
But when Malfurion first glanced at the mage's visage, he instantly tried to pull away. A dragon's monstrous face filled his view, the jaws opening to swallow him-
'Malfurion!'
The sharp cut of Krasus's voice sliced cleanly through his fear. The night elf 's vision cleared, revealing not a dragon but the determined, pale countenance he had come to know well.
Concern colored Krasus's expression. He helped Malfurion to a sitting position, handing him a water sack from which to drink. Only after the druid had satiated his thirst did Krasus ask him what had happened.
'Did you reach She of the Dreaming?'
'Yes, and I had to mention Cenarius more than once…as you hinted.'
The dragon mage allowed himself a brief one-sided smile. 'I had recalled some bit of knowledge Alexstrasza had once passed on to me. I thought that this far in the past, the feelings would be stronger yet.'
'So I was right to think that she and my shan'do-'
'Does it surprise you? Their spheres of influence cross in many ways. Kindred spirits are often drawn together, regardless of their differing backgrounds.'
Malfurion did not press. 'She agreed to bring me to where they were meeting.'
Krasus's eyes widened. 'All five of the Aspects?'
'I saw only four. Ysera, your Alexstrasza, a silver-blue dragon with a mirthful expression-'
'Malygos…how that one will change.'
'And-and-' Suddenly, the night elf could not speak. The words teetered on the tip of his tongue, but they would not fall. The harder he tried, the more infantile the druid sounded. Sounds that made no sense whatsoever escaped him.
Putting a hand on Malfurion's shoulder, Krasus nodded sadly. 'I understand, I think. You cannot say more. There was another there.'
'Yes…another.'
It was all Malfurion could add, but he saw that Krasus did indeed understand. The night elf eyed his comrade in shock, realizing that the mage could no more speak of Neltharion than he could. At some point in the past, Krasus, too, had fallen afoul of the black behemoth.
Which meant that Krasus likely also knew of the Dragon Soul.
They stared into each other's eyes, the silence communicating much of what their mouths could not. Small wonder that the dragon mage had been so adamant about reaching his people and discovering the truth. The ancients themselves had been betrayed by one of their own, and the only two who knew could say nothing about it, not even to each other.
'We must leave,' muttered Krasus, helping him to his feet. 'You may well imagine why.'
Malfurion could. Neltharion would not rest with leaving him alive. The spell had been a last effort before the druid had escaped the Emerald Dream, but the black dragon would not be satisfied. He was too near his goal. Likely only circumstance had saved Krasus earlier, but from what Malfurion had witnessed of the black's madness, neither would be safe long. And although Neltharion would not dare act directly…
'The sentinels!' he managed to gasp.
'Aye. We may see them again. It would be good if we returned to the hippogriffs and departed.'
So the idiosyncrasies of the spell allowed them that indirect communication. A small and fairly useless gift. They could hint to each other about their doom.
Still weary, he had to rely on Krasus to help him walk. With effort, they made their way to where the
