Neltharion, or Deathwing, as he was now known as, hurt all over. Never in all his entire life as the Earth Warden had he experienced such pain before. Pain that coursed through him. This wasn't feeling. This was emotion; pain as an emotion, but also as an instinct. Terror, fear, despair… tidal waves of emotion threatened to overwhelm him. That would truly be the end of him should he succumb.

To be without form is truly perhaps the worst thing to have ever happened to Deathwing. How he longed to have his body back, even if his body was crumbling apart anyways. At least he would be able to kill something to take his mind of the pain. But in the infinite void, there is nothing to do to take the pain away.

The other Aspects would never have expected how far he had gone in order to bring his plan to fruition. Not that he had succeeded. But he had not really expected that a mere mortal could wield the power of the Dragon Soul. What was the name of the puny insolent creature which dared to challenge and mortally wound Neltharion? Thrall.

Yes, Thrall. He would make sure that the Orc would suffer for the crime. However, he needed a body first. Deathwing had realised a long time ago on the Elemental Plane that his body would not hold the awesome power he possessed. That was when he sought out the minds of the dead. He needed a means to continue living even if his own body crumbled.

He sought all the forms of magic in order to extend his life. Fel magic was too much of a pain, and by no means did Deathwing wish to have green foul flames occupying his body instead of the bright powerful flames that was already there. Warlocks he sought were no different, each promising their service, but each demanding something or other… Necromancy was too unreliable, too likely to go wrong, and the powers of the Kirin Tor were useless for anything more than trivial tricks.

Shamanism he could at least relate to, but there was no way to extend life through it. After all, both druidism and shamanism both deferred to the laws of Nature, and Nature seemed to crave death and aging above all other things. So, in the end, Deathwing had to resort to his own power. Capturing the essences of all four Elemental Lords, he created something rivalling the power of the Dragon Soul, and using all his might, buried it deep underground within the corpse of one of his spawn.

Now, as he concentrated on the tool he created, he could feel its power vibrating, and, using all his willpower, shaped it into a ring, one large enough to fit snuggly on a forearm of the corpse. Then, he pulled the ring out of the corpse and secured it to the right arm of the dead dragon of the Black Flight.

There was a tremendous explosion of energy and Deathwing felt his conscious fading, then returning. He opened his eyes and with mild surprise and satisfaction felt he could open them. What joy there was to see, even if all he saw was earth and rock! He flexed his claws and studied the ring on his finger. It was plain and simple but laced with glowing gems the colour of flames.

Deathwing then continued to study the rest of his body. It was massive, even bigger than Deathwing had been previously. That was precisely why he had murdered and chosen this body as his vessel. As he watched, the skeletal frame that was his body ignited with hell fire, and scales harder than steel slithered out of nowhere to wrap around his body.

Deathwing breathed and found that he had grown lungs, mighty and strong. He put one claw over his chest and found himself mesmerised by the sound of thunder rumbling from within. How beautiful his heartbeat was, as it pushed the lava that served as the Earth Warden's blood through his veins. His tail was strong and lithe, and he found unbelievable fast and agile too. Deathwing allowed a booming laugh to echo through the small cavern, and with a great roar, spread his new wings out and struck the cavern.

"I AM BACK!" he roared, amongst the falling stalactites, rocks and earth, "DEATHWING HAS RETURNED!"