The snow capped summit of Frostblade Peak swirled with white around a small shrine that was enveloped with clear blue magic. Within the confines of the blue light, the wind had no effect as temperatures plummeted. Temperatures plummeted, but within the confines of the blue light, the wind had no effect. The shrine sat perilously close to the edge of a sheer cliff. It was not the place for night walks or aimless wandering. Death would most surely be the result if one would be unfortunate enough to fall.
This particular shrine was favored by those who traveled here to meditate before the stone table. Here the seeker was certain to face the inner turmoil that sought to destroy him. Meditating here cleansed the evil within, clearing the mind and soul to think more clearly, respond to life more passionately.
Whist, a night elf, sat cross-legged on the stone table of the shrine which overlooked the Fjord valley. He loved to be enveloped by the blue magic. It was this magic that had drawn him to the shrine to begin with. Comfort and warmth surged through his body as he meditated, eyes closed and breathing controlled. New falling snow had covered the tracks he had made to reach the shrine. Beside him a large crimson dragon lay stretched out on her belly as her long neck held her head high outside the swirling blue magic. She also seemed to love gazing over the expanse below. The cold wind swept around them, and Whist curled more deeply under the flaps of his heavy leather cloak. His long white braid blew freely with the wind. The air was bitter cold to his nose and a tear froze to his cheek. Underneath his cloak, a small scaled head pushed aside a flap and crooned up at him. Looking down, he smiled and softly stroked the baby dragon's head. But the little companion quickly buried his head under the cloak where it was warm and safe.
"How could I have let this happen?" He wondered. "She was right there and I couldn't save her. It was as if my legs had a will of their own. She said 'Run,' and I did."
"She chose to save you over herself," said the dragon in a deep rumbling voice. Tarastrasza moved her head to look at the night elf, "She knew what would happen to her if she helped you. Keristrasza saw in you the potential to save the dragons from themselves."Gently pressing his hand on the back of the baby dragon inside his cloak, Whist looked again at the valley before him. Closing his eyes he reached out with his mind to the far lands to in the east—Dragonblight and then Borean Tundra. The magic here at the shrine bolstered his mind and allowed him to search more intensely for his friend. He saw the bustling port of Valiance Keep where young men and women were lined up to receive their assignments for the fight against the Scourge and Arthas.
"If only they knew what they were getting into...", he thought to himself. Tarastrasza rumbled, "You knew, yet you still came." She side-glanced her friend. "We have been through a lot together, yet I still cannot see what drives you." Whist smirked and blocked his thoughts from his friend, "Perhaps someday you will know." She growled at him, "Don't patronize me young one. You have proven your worthiness to us, but do not forget to whom you speak." With that she rose to her feet, spread her wings, and stretched to try and warm herself a bit. "We need to go to the Temple; Krasus would like to speak with us."
Whist tried to stand, but his legs tingled from being seated for so long. He finally got his sluggish limbs to obey him. He dislodged the small whelp from its pseudo nest inside his cloak. Reaching up to his right shoulder with his left hand, he adjusted the crimson brooch that held his cloak in place. Terastrasza lowered her neck for Whist. "Isn't that the Ruby Brooch of Dahlia?" The night elf stopped as the baby dragon flew unsteadily in the wind and then landed on his shoulder. "It is. I haven't been able to bring myself to tell Krasus of her demise, or of how the scourge was able to corrupt her, even with her loyalty." He grasped the dragon's scales and hoisted himself up onto her neck. "I'm going to hold onto it for now." As he spoke the ruby within the brooch brightened and glowed softly, slightly lighting his face. Whist wiped the ice tears from his face. He was ready.
"Aeriastrasza, come here!" he shouted over the wind. The whelp soared and landed in front of the elf. Whist opened a pocket on the inside of his cloak and the small dragon crawled into it and curled into a ball.
"All right Tara, let's go to the Temple."