World of Warcraft: Dawn of the Aspects: Part III Page 5

  “Must strike now!” She spun from Malygos again. “Come! We attack!”

  The gathered proto-dragons left the five behind.

  Neltharion fluttered back and forth, obviously desiring to be a part of the coming battle but in the end choosing his comrades over his desires. Still, he could not help expressing himself. “Why we not fight? Not like Talonixa, but we fight our way! We fight our own plan—”

  “And die as stupidly as they,” Nozdormu, proving quite talkative this day, interrupted calmly.

  “There must be peace.”

  Even Alexstrasza eyed her sister with something close to exasperation. “Ysera—”

  Without warning, the smaller female darted off. There was no doubt about her intentions. She still hoped to change the course of events, however mad that seemed to both Kalec and his host. Worse, Alexstrasza immediately chased after her sister, which caused the increasingly impatient Neltharion to do the same.

  Nozdormu looked to Malygos. “If this—”

  The scene suddenly shifted. Even though Kalec was better prepared for it, he still raged at being ripped from the moment before he knew how it would continue to play. There was a very real feeling running through him that despite the fact that all of this took place in the past, it had a relevance to his time that he dared not ignore.

  He—as much as Malygos—darted among the frosty peaks of the northern regions in great haste, searching with more and more desperation for someone whom at first Kalec could not identify from the proto-dragon’s racing thoughts. The only thing that Kalec could tell was that something had caused a change in events. What it was finally flashed through Malygos’s mind as he dived to investigate a shallow cave in one frosty area.

  Talonixa’s great host had been unable to find the gargantuan Galakrond.

  How a creature as huge as the twisted proto-dragon could suddenly vanish was a question that greatly plagued Kalec’s host and also bothered Kalec. However, it was not the reason for Malygos’s mad hunt in this obscure place far too near the misshapen leviathan’s known haunts.

  Malygos was hunting Ysera.

  A shadow crossed Malygos. Neltharion dropped down.

  “Nothing!” the charcoal-gray male bellowed. “I smell her . . . but nothing!”

  Her scent pervaded the area but was not strong enough to be identified as very recent. Ysera might have passed this way as long ago as two days. Kalec understood now that it had been four days since the shift in the vision. Indeed, the last time anyone had seen Ysera was shortly after that scene had changed for Kalec. The weaker female had risen into the thick clouds, whereupon her trail had somehow faded. It had taken a frantic Alexstrasza another day and a half to locate a trail, but only after the four had already confronted an angry Talonixa leading a befuddled force in search of the absent Galakrond.

  “He is scared!” Talonixa had roared at the top of her voice for any to hear, perhaps even Galakrond himself. “He knows we hunt! He flees us!”

  This had hardly been the opinion of Malygos or his friends, but their voices had not been of interest to Talonixa. She had led her army off to the east, leaving the four to continue their own search.

  But why Ysera had abandoned the others when she had was still not apparent. Malygos had his suspicions, and from what Kalec divined, his host believed—not unreasonably—that Alexstrasza’s sister had sought out Galakrond to plead again for a stop to the carnage.

  If so, there was a very good reason she had thus far remained unfound, a reason that none of the three males dared speak out loud in the presence of Alexstrasza. Ysera might already be a victim of Galakrond, foolishly placing herself in the mad behemoth’s maw as easily as Coros had.

  “Saw nothing,” Malygos informed Neltharion now, his pulse still pounding from his own swift search. Another proto-dragon soared above. Seeing that it was Nozdormu, both calmed. The third male appeared to have had no better luck than they. Of Alexstrasza, there was no sign, although Kalec understood that Malygos had a fair notion where she could be found. Once arriving at this place where Ysera’s scent had grown stronger, they had divided up to cover certain areas where a proto-dragon could more easily be hidden from sight.

  But thus far, they had discovered nothing.

  “She is not here,” Neltharion suggested. “Was . . . but is not.”

  His tone echoed Malygos’s own concerns about Ysera’s fate. Neither wanted to be the one to approach Alexstrasza with what seemed more and more the truth.

  “Maybe search more,” the charcoal-gray male recommended with some hesitation. “Maybe flew too fast. I do that.”

  They both knew that they had scoured their respective areas thoroughly, but being reluctant to face a dismayed Alexstrasza, they split up again. Malygos banked, then dropped lower. He did not expect to find anything, Kalec knew, but the only other choice was to report his failure to the fire-orange female.

  The sharp eyes of the hunter surveyed the icy soil and frosty rock walls ahead. Malygos quickly recognized the few places where Ysera might have been able to secrete herself. However, he already knew that she could not have possibly slipped by him, and sure enough, the first three locations were as empty as he recalled them—

  Something moved near the mouth of the last cave. It was such a brief glimpse that neither Kalec nor his host could identify just what it was.

  The proto-dragon dived to investigate. He slowed when he neared the cave. There was the danger that whatever lurked within was not only not Ysera but a threat.

  Malygos squinted. The cave was utterly dark. That in itself unsettled the proto-dragon; his sharp eyes should have been able to penetrate the blackness for at least a few feet. Kalec’s trepidation matched Malygos’s as the proto-dragon first sniffed the air, then, scenting nothing, chose to enter.

  Visibility remained almost nonexistent as Malygos progressed. The icy-blue male hesitated. Kalec’s host sensed something amiss, but it was nothing that his mind could identify. However, Kalec, able to feel the ancient world, noted the hint of some great power nearby.

  “Welcome, clever hunter,” came a deep voice with an otherworldly quality that made Kalec want to gasp and made Malygos instinctively retreat a step from that direction.

  A low silver light arose from the darkness.

  Within, a cloaked and hooded form already familiar to Kalec coalesced.

  Hissing, Malygos retreated again. Yet if the proto-dragon sought the way out, he was not to find it, nor was even Kalec able to note where it was. Only darkness prevailed except where the tiny figure stood.

  Curiously, though, despite the fact that Malygos loomed over it, the mysterious figure unnerved the proto-dragon. It had little to do with what was to Malygos a very odd two-legged shape and more to do with the tremendous power Kalec had earlier felt.

  But while Kalec had come to grips with the fact that through his host, he confronted the form he had caught out of the corner of his eye in the Nexus, the dragon began to notice something else amiss with the being before them. Although by Kalec’s estimation, the murky figure was barely taller than a night elf, the more Kalec studied it, the more the blue dragon could not help thinking that what he saw was not what actually stood there. He had the feeling of a being far more imposing than this, a being that instead of gazing up at the proto-dragon, should have been gazing down.

  “Who are you?” Malygos demanded. “Who?”

  “Follow the strengthening wind when you depart,” the figure answered, at first making no sense to either Kalec or his host. “You will find your friend there.”

  Another hiss escaped Malygos. “What thing are you?”

  “A friend . . . I hope.” From the cloak emerged the strong hand of what Kalec judged to be a warrior. It pulled the hood back.

  For the proto-dragon, it was yet another revelation of just how strange the creature was. For Kalec, though, what stood revealed was enough to identify the figure for what he was, even though the dragon had never himself seen such beings in the fle
sh.

  A keeper . . . it can only be a keeper, Kalec thought with awe. The keepers were creatures of myth and legend to most other races. Even as the Aspect of Magic, Kalec had learned little of them beyond their work overseeing the refinement of Azeroth after the titans brought order to it and the fact that several of the keepers had built temples in the Storm Peaks. Evidence of their achievements could also be found in obscure places around the world, but the full effect of their great task remained a question.

  The skin was a brilliant silver. A thick, long mustache stretching down to the chest matched the golden hair framing the sturdy, broad-jawed face. Under a heavy brow, eyes the color of the sun and like those of night elves, outwardly seeming to lack pupils, studied the proto-dragon with not only interest but what appeared to be pride.

  What does he find of so much interest in Malygos? Kalec wondered.

  “You may call me Tyr,” the keeper finally answered the proto-dragon’s original question. “And you are, of course, Malygos.”

  Kalec’s host understandably flinched. Baring his teeth, the proto-dragon growled, “How do you know my name?”

  “I have watched you. I have watched others. I see much potential in you, in these friends of yours . . . and I say that as someone who has watched many of your kind since the first of you began to stir toward self-consciousness.”

  His answer only made Malygos shake his head in bewilderment and growing mistrust. Tyr was not a huge creature. Malygos believed that he could bite Tyr in half, but he also believed that attempting to do so would for unknown reasons be something that the proto-dragon would regret.

  He turned away, once more seeking the missing entrance. This time, it revealed itself. However, Malygos made no move toward it, as aware as Kalec that it had reappeared too conveniently. Malygos, of course, did not yet understand magic as Kalec did, but he was clever enough to link the odd happenings with the being who already knew his name without asking.

  Malygos peered over his shoulder at Tyr.

  “If it is your wish to leave, I will not stop you,” Tyr said.

  With a reptilian grin, Malygos chose to take him at his word. He darted through the gap, clearly expecting to be prevented at the last second.

  Instead, the open air greeted the icy-blue male. The moment he was fully outside, Malygos swung around to face the cave. Kalec understood that he expected to find Tyr following, but of the keeper, there was no sign.

  “You see? I did not lie.”

  Snarling, Malygos gazed up at the top of a low ridge. There, an innocent-looking Tyr stood patiently waiting.

  The proto-dragon rose into the air until he hovered over the cloaked figure. Tyr calmly spread both hands wide, a sign of peace. Despite that display, Malygos did not relax, and even Kalec wondered what exactly such a formidable being wanted with a proto-dragon.

  “Not funny!” Malygos snapped, rearing his head. He prepared to exhale, something that Kalec thought would only lead to disaster.

  But at the last moment, the proto-dragon changed his mind. Instead, Malygos veered from the tiny figure and headed on.

  He did not get far before discovering Tyr standing atop another ridge ahead of him.

  While this hardly surprised Kalec, the young Malygos proved a hardheaded sort. He immediately turned in another direction and flew as hard as he could from the spot where Tyr stood.

  The cloaked figure reappeared a short distance ahead.

  This time, Malygos did not hesitate to exhale. Kalec sensed that his host wished not to slay Tyr, only to keep him from following.

  The stream of frost shot toward Tyr, then split, spraying the rocky surroundings but not touching him in the least.

  “Please,” Tyr quietly began again. “I wish only to talk with you . . . about Galakrond.”

  Malygos’s mind struggled between attacking, fleeing, and hearing the strange creature out. To Kalec’s relief, his host chose the last.

  “What do you want? Where is Ysera?”

  “You will find her . . . and you will find other things, but those I cannot change.” Tyr did not elaborate, instead returning to his original subject. “But for the moment, we must speak quickly and about Galakrond.”

  The continued mention of the sinister behemoth made the proto-dragon anxiously glance around, but of course, there was no sign of the gargantuan fiend. Malygos peered expectantly at Tyr.

  “We never intended this path,” Tyr continued, his own gaze turning inward. A shadow crossed his features. “Galakrond should never have journeyed in the direction he did, and we did not prevent it. Now . . . now this young world faces annihilation.”

  While Malygos did not understand all of the complex words, he understood enough to catch that there was some tie between Galakrond and this thing. Kalec understood even more than Malygos, but in the end, his thoughts finished the same. This being—this keeper—knew why Galakrond had become the monster, and felt some fault at that happening.

  Before Malygos could press the questions that Kalec and he shared, Tyr cut him off. “I have been observing so many of you, seeking an answer. I thought for a while . . . but Coros proved as focused in his obsession as Galakrond but with more foolhardiness than even Galakrond contained, it seems.”

  “Coros? You watch him? Why?”

  For the first time, a hint of frustration passed across Tyr’s sturdy face. Kalec, though, saw that it was frustration not with Malygos but with Tyr himself.

  “A good question with no good answer. I leave it at that. What matters is that you might be the key to salvaging this situation . . . if we can turn this mad charge from disaster to victory.”

  The proto-dragon continued to hover, but Kalec felt his patience quickly fraying. Proto-dragons did not have the patience of dragons, although even Kalec knew his could be very short at times. Malygos was coming close to trying to flee again.

  Tyr obviously saw that also. He smiled briefly as if to reassure the proto-dragon. “In our seeking to guide Azeroth’s growth as a whole, we have been too long removed from the daily aspects of the world, too long from interacting with the life of that world. Without guidance, events somehow brought us Galakrond. With guidance, we and your kind might be able to set Kalimdor back on its destined path.”

  “We fight Galakrond?” Malygos’s tone made clear his questioning of the sanity of Tyr’s suggestion. “Talonixa fights Galakrond! I—we—do not fight!” He shook his head. “Foolish creature you are!”

  This time, Malygos did attempt another escape. He flew around Tyr, going such a great distance to the side of the cloaked figure that Kalec could not help but wonder if the proto-dragon also sensed that while Tyr appeared tiny, he was in actuality something far larger, far greater.

  Kalec and his host both expected Tyr to materialize before them, but there was no sign. While Malygos took heart from this, Kalec could not fathom why Tyr would simply let the proto-dragon go.

  Suddenly, what appeared to be a wall stood before the racing Malygos. He managed to bank at the last moment, and as he did, something unsettling about the wall registered with both the proto-dragon and Kalec.

  It was not a wall but the torso of some gigantic two-legged form.

  But as Malygos spun back, he found no giant . . . only Tyr.

  Still, even the young proto-dragon understood that he had caught a glimpse of what Tyr truly was. That glimpse was powerful enough to make him eye the tiny creature once more standing before him with something near awe.

  But Tyr’s expression extinguished Malygos’s obvious hope that what the proto-dragon had momentarily seen could mean Galakrond’s defeat. “We are not tied to this world as your kind is. The others . . . the others of my kind cannot be urged anymore to face this danger. We have grown too weary from our past battles. We—I—need your kind, Malygos. I need you.”

  Still hovering, the proto-dragon finally nodded. “What we do?”

  Tyr looked vastly relieved. “First, we must gather your friends. Together, I think they could be
the answer. Nowhere else have I seen this immediate and intricate bonding among those of different proto-dragon families. Perhaps it might ironically even have something to do with Galakrond’s coming. I do not know. Whatever the reason, this bonding may be the key to the only chance of victory still left to us.”

  Some of the words were, again, more than Malygos could comprehend. However, he could easily detect Tyr’s uncertainty that even Malygos and his kind would be enough to prevent Galakrond from ravaging Azeroth.

  “Gather the others, Malygos. They trust you. Lead them here. I will be waiting—”

  A warning roar echoed from the east, a roar so thundering it could only belong to Galakrond.

  Tyr turned at the cry. Malygos’s gaze swept past him to look in the same direction, and in that moment, the cloak swung aside, revealing something that only Kalec noticed and only Kalec would have recognized.

  Attached by netting to a thick silver belt was nothing less than the artifact itself.

  Even as Kalec saw this, the scene turned on its head, and its elements shattered, scattering in all directions. The blackness held sway for but a second before the elements regathered and formed a new scene.

  Proto-dragons filled the sky. By the scores, they roared their challenge at the horizon before them. As Kalec sought to identify what was happening, Malygos joined the others in seemingly challenging the empty air.

  And the sky answered.

  Galakrond, still so distant that he could not be seen, answered.

  Kalec silently swore. Somehow he—or, rather, Malygos—had become part of Talonixa’s grand and likely doomed charge after all.

  FIVE

  THE DEAD AND THE UNDEAD

  Jaina woke with a start, her head snapping up from the pages of the musty book she was reading when exhaustion had claimed her. The archmage eyed the faint moisture on one page and gestured with some slight irritation. The page dried, none the worse for the wear.

  Another waste of time! She pointed her finger at the wall of books and parchments. The book fluttered to the spot from which she had summoned it.