Author's Note: My Deathwing fic. Though it doesn't focus on Deathwing at the start, not for the most part. Also involves Llirra, Wanhope, and Sarantha making an alliance with one of the Life Queen's children in attempt to defeat the Betrayer forever while trying not to kill each other at the same time. Drama/Humor most of the time. Will remain T.

The Shadow of My Wings

Ch 1.

The sun has set on this mortal world, fools. Make peace with your end, for the Hour of Twilight falls!

Life is weak! Mortal! Fleeting! Fragile! Death is final, death is eternal, death... is my realm. Look upon me, and you see death incarnate!

Peace...There. CAN. BE. NO. PEACE! Not when the whole of Azeroth is ripped asunder! The Alliance and Horde can only CLING to hope!

Pain... Agony... My hatred burns through the cavernous deeps. The world heaves with my torment. Its wretched kingdoms quake beneath my rage... But at last... The whole of Azeroth will break... ...And all will burn beneath the shadow of my wings...

Alextrasza let out a cry of rage and fear. Deathwing's words burned in her ears. She shot up, out of her healing slumber at last. The Betrayer...the one who had betrayed HER, them...his own siblings...for power. His words stung her ears, leaving her shivering. Her son, her beloved son, who had saved her life in her confrontation with the Destroyer, ran quickly to her side and looked at her with some concern.

"Mother! Are you well? I heard you cry out! Korialstrasz is almost sick with fear and worry for you, Mother!" Alexstrasza surveyed her surroundings. Wyrmrest...the temple. Of course she would be there. It was the holy site where all dragons went, to live, to die...to heal. Her body was as healed as it was going to be, but her soul...her soul would never recover from her former brother's words. She had to be the one to end it. She knew it in her soul. Life against Death...it was only right, only natural. But she had failed, in the end. Failed. Allowed the Destroyer to continue his freedom. All shall burn...Alexstrasza shuddered. No. She would not allow that. As many before her had done, she would seek aid among the mortal races of Azeroth. They had done things no others could do. They were different from the dragons, even the red dragons, the protectors of Life and all things living. An orc shaman came to mind. Thrall. Even now, he was the only thing keeping this world from being ripped apart like Draenor had been. His power was...amazing. Beyond anything even the Queen of Life had seen. Healing Azeroth, where her brother had torn it asunder when he broke from his prison, with the aid of the Twilight's Hammer and their breaking of the seals that kept him down there, in the fire and burning hole he had been trapped in. The torture...the pain her brother must have been in.

Even though his evil was irredeemable, she still loved him. Perhaps that was her weakness. She couldn't, in cold blood, kill her brother. Not even in a battle to the death. She knew he had to die, as her brother Malygos had before her. Malygos had sought to obliterate the mortal races as well. Again, the Mother had to step in and stop him. Again and again and again...how many? How many siblings and children would she have to bury before it was all over? She realized tears were streaming down her face and she had not answered Caelestrasz, who was hovering over her with a look of increased fear. Likely for her sanity. She stood, still in her elven guise, and embraced her son. Calen had saved her life and the life of the paladin, priest, and hunter that had fought beside them.

"I'm alright, Cal. I just...I can't do this. He defeated me. I cannot kill my brother. That is my weakness, Cal. He is my brother. My closest of brothers. Or was. My heart cannot deal the killing blow. Thats why I lost. Why I almost failed you, and the mortals that were aiding us. I am weak, Cal. Not in body, but in soul. I don't have the will it takes to slay the most beloved of my brothers."

Cal looked distressed. "What are you talking about, Mother? If anyone can destroy the Destroyer, it is you. No other has the power! Nozdormu is too wrapped up in time travel, Ysera too caught up in the Dream, Kalec is new to being an Aspect! Who do you think will defeat the Dark One if not you, Mother?"

"Cal...the mortals. The mortals we fought alongside. Look to the Maelstrom. Look at the mortal who, single-handedly, is holding the world together. The mortals are capable of things we are not. It is THEY who are the Titans greatest creations. For so long we thought we were supposed to protect Azeroth. For so long, we thought the curse the Old Gods placed on the vyrkul, the tol'vir, and the other races of Azeroth was a curse. It wasn't a curse. If the Old Gods could go back in time, they would never have given the blessing of Flesh to them. Without being mortal, they could not have accomplished all the things they have in so short a time span. They are our only hope, Cal." She leaned into her son, hugging the red dragon close to her. Cal was in elf form as well, his blonde hair and blue eyes showing that he too, like his mother, had taken on a high elf form.

She pulled away. "Find them, Cal. The paladin, priest, and hunter."

Cal looked a little confused. "Why, Mother? Why do you want them? Should I not instead go to the Maelstrom, to Thrall, the...the Earthbinder?" He hesitated a bit on the last. He'd heard his mother call Thrall Earthbinder, but he wasn't sure what that meant, even now. Was Thrall meant to be the next Aspect of Earth? Was that why Mother hadn't told him to find Thrall? Did she not wish to risk his death?

"I want those three. They fought alongside us. They were courageous. Brave. Even though two were horde and one alliance, they fought together. They put aside differences in the face of certain death. Mortals are capable of so much more they we are. I've told you this." It was a mild rebuke, but still a rebuke, and Cal flinched slightly for questioning the Mother of All Life. He bowed to her.

"Very well, Mother. You know what is best. I will go to the mortals. Mother...do you really believe they can defeat Deathwing?"

Alexstrasza hung her head in sadness. "I must believe it. If not, Deathwing was right. All shall burn...the end of Azeroth will be upon us. We will have failed in protecting them. This world and all life. I will cease to be the Life-binder, for there will no longer be life within this world." She was crying again. She lay down on the soft mat in the holy Wyrmrest Temple and stared at the ceiling. It depicted her kind, saving people, hunting monsters, going head to head with minions of the Old Gods. Neltharion fighting beside her, loving her as she loved him. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears sliding down her cheeks. Neltharion...what he was known as before he became Deathwing and ceased to be her brother in mind, if not in body. But never in soul. In her soul, and perhaps even his own, they still loved each other, and so they could not kill each other. Perhaps...perhaps that was why Deathwing hadn't been able to kill her. Perhaps Neltharion was still there, somewhere, deep in his soul, and knew her. Knew his most beloved sister.

Cal turned from Alex, letting her cry herself to sleep. There was nothing more for him here. She had given him a mission, and he wouldn't let his mother down.

Air rushed through the metal plates that made up his skin as he flew over Azeroth, surveying the damage with an inordinate amount of glee. The world was burning, breaking, just as he had hoped. His battle with his sister had weakened him some, but not near enough to prevent him from continuing his flight across the whole of Azeroth. Burning and torching anything in his path. It did puzzle him a bit when some of the mortals actually ran TO the fire instead of AWAY from it, but it mattered not. All that mattered...was burning...destroying...killing...soothing the fiery anger and hate his imprisonment brought about. So some of the mortals were dumb enough to WANT to get burned to death in his fiery breath. It only made his job easier. Even though some of the mortals shouted with glee to see him when he flew over an area. The most recent was Uldum. Several night elves and tauren had immediately rushed into the path of his flames. Oh well. It was their death, and he was the Aspect of Death, so it brought him a good deal of joy to bring such death to willing victims. At first it had puzzled him, but then he had decided they were merely ending their torment early. Being burned alive wasn't exactly a clean death, but who was he to judge? He himself had been burned alive for thousands of years beneath the earth, in a fiery pit of destruction and pain. His hatred of the mortal races who imprisoned him there only increasing with each fiery decade.

Now THEY would feel the fires of doom. Even now, in the ancient realm of Hyjal, his servant, or at least servant for now, Ragnaros, was starting his plan to turn the World Tree to ashes. Not even his dear sister would see this coming. Not until it was too late. Nor would his other sister...the lovely little Ysera, the pathetic Dreamer. Her druids would burn. Her tree would BURN! None would escape the Hour of Twilight. His tail twitched slightly in irritation at the thought of Twilight. It brought about annoying, displeasing thoughts of the Twilight Dragons. Sintharia's last brood. They were supposed to be more powerful than any other dragonflight, and yet mortals defeated them regularly and with ease. Sintharia had been a disappointment. He was almost glad to be rid of her. Not to mention, they kind of...sparkled. That just wasn't natural, even for a Twilight Dragon. No, he did not like them at all. They belonged elsewhere, and perhaps with Sintharia's death, no more would be born. His dear son, Nefarion, had got it right. Chromatic dragons were powerful. They took all that was good about each flight and twisted it...twisted it to be useful to him. Yes...Nefarion was loyal to his father, even in death.

Pain shot through the Dark One. He growled in annoyance. The metal plates had been becoming-loosened-after his fight with Alex. Without the plates, his body would fall apart. It would no longer be able to host the great power within him. Each time one loosened a little more, more pain, more agony, assaulted him.

Deathwing dropped to the ground in Tanaris, out of sight of anyone or anything else. He wouldn't dare be caught in this moment of weakness. Gasping from the pain, he assumed his human form, resting his head against the sandy rocks behind him. Even in his human form, he wasn't free of the pain. But...it was lessened some. Metal plates still engulfed almost the entirety of his body. His face was free of them for some reason. He did not question good fortune. He lay panting against the rocks, their deaths would be far more painful than this. When he had control over all Azeroth, he would have the plates reforged. Then there would be no more pain. No more suffering. For him, at least. Deathwing grinned, a smile full of sharp, serrated teeth, even in human form. Yes. All of Azeroth would fall under the shadow of his wings.