How We Miss Him
Jubilation was pouring forth from every single settlement in every corner of Azeroth. Deathwing had finally, finally been bested by the Aspects, by Thrall and by the very greatest heroes the world had to offer. The many nations and factions could finally climb back onto shaky limbs, rebuild wasted homes and cities and… promptly begin tearing out each other's throats yet again.
Deep beneath Tanaris's ever restless sands, in winding passages and beyond vistas that should not exist in the ground, dragon after dragon flew out between floating rocks and belts of magic, clouds of space gas. Red, green, blue, and bronze of all ages and sizes glided gracefully to the center of this ethereal place. One black drake, big for his age, was among them. The elder ones took no special notice of him but the countless whelps flocked around him, almost impeding his movement. They regarded him with amazement and curiosity, he huffed and gave a few great pumps of his still growing wings and flew ahead of them, only to be caught up in the cloud of young ones again.
Finally a red broodmother swooped down and chided the little ones.
"My babies, leave your cousin alone! Same goes for the rest of you!"
Reluctantly the little ones made their way over to her, sheltering themselves beneath her huge frame or riding her tail winds to rest their wings.
"Thank you." The young black said tersely.
"I am Matrestraza, its good that you are here young one."
The black scoffed.
"I see no reason for this ceremony, but was given little choice."
"There is every reason for it." Matrestraza snapped at him, then quickly cooled her anger, "You will understand soon, your brood is one to be missed."
The thousands of dragons flying in the nether realm were converging in the center, stars, planets, sparkling dust trails and wisps of primal mana drew together in the heart of this pocket universe. There, deep amid the beating wings and scaly bodies were four great dragons, three of them ancient beyond ancient and the fourth a babe in the woods compared to them.
"Go on Wrathion." Matrestraza cooed, the mass of whelps still hanging about her, "The Aspects expect you."
Carefully the young black made his way to the center, dragons and drakes as much as ten times his size shifting out of his way. Wrathion felt suddenly vulnerable amid this sea of dragonkind, like he never knew how truly huge or powerful some of them could be. If they wished it a single swipe of razor sharp claws or a puff of flame would end him in an instant. Yet all looked on him like he was a small, new member of their own flight.
At last he came next to the Aspects. Alexstraza the Queen, her sister Ysera with eyes ever closed, their cousin Nozdormu seemingly somewhere else and right here at once, and Kalecgos, Malygos's son and successor. Right in this spot there was no weight, no gravity, and all four massive beings simply floated, suspended, relaxed. Wrathion stretched his small wings and let them hang open. He was barely able to fly still, and despite the low gravity easing the journey; his way had still been tiring.
His dragon body was growing too quickly for his wings. He'd probably be grounded for the next few months, again. He felt eyes on him and looked up to see Alexstraza regarding him like, well a mother.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" she said gently.
"Nothing." Wrathion said briskly. "We are to perform a ritual, yes?" He was trying to be practical and to point, trying to garner some respect by acting like an adult. All of the Aspects saw straight through him.
"We are going to remember something." Ysera said in her singsong way, "Something which few beyond our own kind knew, and even fewer would believe."
"Its something we miss dearly." Nozdormu said, emotionally rather than passively. "And you, our beloved cousin, you perhaps need this memory more than any other here."
"Why?" Wrathion was a bit annoyed, why couldn't these old dragons ever do anything quickly?
"Hush." Wrathion shot a venomous look at Kalecgos, who in his mind was not that much older than him. "You will understand. I look forward to this." He said to the other aspects.
The elder three nodded and Nozdormu lifted his brazen head.
"Brothers and sisters! Beloved family! Sons and daughters! Cousins of every hue! Think now on our lost brother, and his once noble brood. Think back to those golden days when the bowels of the earth rang out with their wondrous song! And to those of you too young to have known them, drink in this sight and sound! We the rulers of dragonkind would have you know the real blacks!"
Nozdormu cast a spell, a small orb of temporal energy growing in his claws, small fibers sprang out to the oldest dragons, then different fibers to the younger ones, last were the other Aspects and Wrathion himself. For a moment he felt nothing but the small buzz of the magic, then suddenly the bottom fell out of the place and he was tumbling head over tail.
Wrathion screamed, his terrified shriek bouncing off stone walls that had come out of nowhere. He was in free fall in a huge, endless cavern. Suddenly the cavern opened up and he could spread his wings. As his descent finally slowed he breathed a sigh of relief and flew forward. It was hard to see, but the light glow of crystal and the smell of pure, untouched earth told him was deep, as deep as one could go without going back up.
"This must be Deepholm, or something close." He muttered. There were no other dragons in sight. Perhaps the vision was separate for everyone. The quiet of the place was eerie, his wing beats sounded like the blasts of a typhoon, and he could swear he heard the continents above shifting. But suddenly he heard something else gliding through the air nearby. It was not another suspended geode, he could make out wing beats, and the change of air currents as this dragon, presumably, shifted and banked.
Wrathion bristled, readying himself to defend. He was young, and still a weak flyer, but the rouges of Ravenholt had trained him well in his short life. He heard the dragon behind him dip down to attack from below and stiffened his clawed feet, he'd puck that things eyes from its head if it dared come near him. Without warning the creature burst up next to him. It was a drake well over twice his size, covered in stone hard obsidian scales, its belly and wings shimmering like molten copper.
"Away!" Wrathion shouted, brandishing claws and trying to breath fire on his attacker, but only managing to produce a few small bursts. The drake curled up its wings and laughed, plummeting back down out of sight. Presently he heard furious wing pumps and the drake reappeared.
"I didn't mean to scare you so little brother, don't exert yourself." The black drake's voice was kind, happy, if he was capable of it he would have been smiling. Wrathion was sure it was a ruse, then he remembered. He was in a vision.
"If you didn't mean to scare me, why did you sneak up on me?" he spat, still not over the adrenaline rush.
"I thought you heard me coming." The drake flew a little ahead of him; then gestured with his tail.
"Come, our tasks are finished, its time to rest."
Wrathion did not like the idea of following a black drake straight into its nest but he again reminded himself it was only a vision and followed. The larger drake led him through cavern after cavern, filled with shining crystals and minerals. The colors became mind boggling, how could they exist without ever seeing the sun? As they flew he heard voices, more black drakes and dragons of various ages and sizes were flying along with them. They greeted each other jovially and chatted like old friends do, about their tasks and the things some of them witnessed above the deep places. Wrathion felt very much the odd one out. They were talking about, for lack of a better phrase, a hard day's work.
'We once had dominion over the earth, but what did that mean? Did the earth have to be policed?'
He almost had the mind to ask the drake he was following, till a new sound joined the wing beats and rumbling draconic speak. Music, it was floating up through the caverns, reverberating off the crystal walls. The cave tightened for a stretch, forcing the many dragons into tight formation, then opened up in a huge, huge chamber, upon which there was not a single bit of flat, black rock. Every inch was covered in gigantic crystals and jewels the colors of which made all others look as dull as mud. Shafts of color pierced the air and Wrathion felt his natural affinity with the earth resonate, he felt ten times stronger in this place and completely at ease.
He followed the others to the far side of the chamber, finally spotting a ledge far up its walls upon which they could land. It felt quite good to finally put feet to ground and let his wings furl up. He heard that exotic music coming from an area nearby but couldn't see anything past the hulking bodies of his elder kin. A mature black broodmother landed next to him, and much like Matrestraza she had a small flock of whelps around her.
They chirped excitedly as they landed, most taking a place on her back as the others pushed and shoved to get past the older dragons.
"Babies, calm down. Dinner is coming no matter when you get to the circle." Their mother cooed much as the red broodmother had.
The older drake nudged Wrathion with his snout.
"Are you missing your own mother? You couldn't have left her long ago."
Wrathion stiffened at the mention of Nyxondra.
"I'm fine…"he trailed off, he still didn't know this drake's name.
"Gebion." Said the drake.
"Wrathion."
Gebion 'raised an eyebrow' which for a dragon amounts to cocking its head.
"We have some issues yes?" he said as a joke.
"None of your business." Wrathion hissed, pushing past the other dragons.
"Alright, have it your way." Gebion made a slower way past, nodding politely to his peers.
Wrathion wasn't quite sure how to process what he saw beyond the landing space. There were great fires, burning on nothing more than volcanic rock, around which hundreds of black dragonkin in both mortal and natural form gathered. The mortal forms ranged from human to elf to even the occasional troll or dwarf.
Though his instincts spoke against it, he took his own human form. This is a vision, nothing more. Gebion appeared behind him, in the shape of a stocky half elf and tapped his shoulder.
"Over here."
The older drake led him to one of the great fires, around which several other younger dragons were gathered. The feeling of being out of place persisted as Wrathion was given a seat among them.
"I don't seem to remember this one." Said a human man, smiling at him in a way that made Wrathion want to punch him.
"He's a bit shifty, I think he's fresh from the caverns beneath the Rift." said Gebion. The others exchanged looks and nodded. Wrathion itched to ask but bit it back, it gave him the excuse to act like himself, and he didn't like the idea of feigning happiness just to avoid being squashed or scorched.
"I think you've been noticed by many here." Said a dragon in dwarf guise, pointing to the other circles. Blacks kept staring at him and pointing, gossiping among themselves. Wrathion's hackles raised and his back stiffened, then a great booming voice that burst through the entire chamber. The little dragon jumped nearly a foot in the air, falling back off his seat. He grumbled as Gebion helped him back up, the slight tremor of massive steps coming close.
"Where is this new one Sintharia? I want to see him!"
A lump formed in Wrathion throat when he recognized that voice. His eyes whipped around, searching desperately for a place to hide. He had to hide. The footsteps were getting closer, and there was nowhere within sprinting distance. Wrathion crouched down on his seat and tried to make himself small, and blend in with the few shadows. The massive wyrm came up right behind him, planting gigantic claws on either side.
"AH! So here is our brave little warrior!"
Deathwing's voice rumbled and resonated like the voice of the earth itself, it shook Wrathion's insides like an earthquake. He dared not move and simply remained hunched over, his hands fisted into the fine silks he wore. Deathwing stood above him for a few moments, producing great hot snorts that made the young drake shiver every time they hit his back, then turned to the other dragons around the fire.
"He is rather shy."
"Shy no, but jumpy, anxious. I think he has not fared well near the Rift." Said Gebion.
"I see." The Black Aspect lowered his massive head to Wrathion's side, and finally he dared look. This….wasn't Deathwing. This dragon was solid, pure obisidian from head to tail, there was a thick ebony beard growing from his jaw into which beads of glass and gold , and colorful feathers were woven. Bright purple crystals sprouted from his head and ran the length of his spine to the club of his tail. His horns were whole and proud, covered on stone they crowned his head. His eyes glowed the same royal purple of the crystals and exuded a similar energy to the other Aspects. This was not Deathwing.
"Neltharion?" Wrathion's jaw dropped.
"Yes little one. Forgive me, I did not mean to upset you."
Wrathion was stupefied, he could barely stutter in answer.
"Soothe your soul child. Tonight you are our honored guest."
Neltharion walked through the many groups of his brood, towards the center of this sanctuary. This he breathed a huge gout of flame and started perhaps the biggest bonfire Wrathion had ever seen. He turned to his kin and announced in an even louder voice than before.
"My children! Let us give thanks for this bountiful food, the good fortune of our brothers and sisters, and let us also give thanks," he looked straight at Wrathion, "for this brave young drake."
All looked to him now, smiling. Those in mortal form clapped while those in dragon form tapped tails to stone. Wrathion felt his stomach sink.
"Please sir I wish you wouldn't, I have done nothing worth honoring." He spoke truthfully he knew, he would be responsible for the ignominious deaths of many.
Neltharion regarded him for a moment, then walked back to him.
"First you brave the dangers of the Rift to protect this planet, then you make your back to us on your own. You think that is nothing? It seems you do not know what is worthy of honor."
In Neltharion's fatherly presence Wrathion felt like he had only just crawled out of his egg. The Aspect looked kindly upon the little drake, lying down behind him and partially wrapping him up in wing and tail.
The music picked up and Neltharion began to…sing.
"A single thread in the tapestry though its color brightly shine, can never see its purpose in the pattern of the grand design." The Aspect's words seemed to light all the woven works around them, the strands gleaming singly at first then as one.
"And the stone that sits on the very top mountain's mighty face, does it think it's more important than the stones that form the base? So how can you see what your life is worth, or where your value lies? You can never see through the eyes of earth,"
Neltharion lifted him but and bid him look the star like jewels shining above them.
"You must look at your life…look at your life through heaven's eyes."
The entire brood broke out into song; it filled the air and rang through the earth, jubilant and filled with lust for life.
Bai la lai la li lai lai, lai lai lai lai, bai la lai le li lai, lai lai lai lai !
They danced around the fires, forming long lines weaving through and around the pits of flame, others lifted instruments and added to the din of music.
"A lake of gold in the desert sand is less than a cool fresh spring." Neltharion waved his tail over some yellow crystals, turning them clear light blue they fell apart into liquid.
"And to one lost sheep, a shepherd boy is greater than the richest king. If a man loses everything he owns, has he truly lost his worth? Or is it the beginning of a new and brighter birth?"
The Aspect lowered his head and bid Wrathion climb up into it. Tentatively he reached out and grabbed hold of massive horns and was lifted up.
"So how do you measure the worth of a man, in how much he gained or how much he gave? The answer will come…the answer will come to him who tries to look at his life through heaven's eyes!"
Neltharion lifted his little passenger high above the revelers, passing a wing before them, making the stones suddenly reflect the night sky so very high above. Wrathion had never seen the stars shine so fiercely; constellations forgotten for their dullness were brighter than any other he had known. Millions of eyes looking upon them, he began to understand what Neltharion said.
"And that's why we share all he have with you, though there's little to be found." Neltharion brought him to the ground again smiling at him as well as a dragon could manage. "When all you've got is nothing, there's a lot to go around."
"No life can escape being blown about by the winds of change and chance." He gave a few beats of his immeasurable wings, catching the young drake in a gale.
"And though you'll never know all the steps, you must learn to join the dance,"
With one nudge of his snout he pushed Wrathion in to the fray of dancers, to be caught by Gebion and a female drake. They pulled him into one of lines, and before he knew it he was dancing along with them, a smile slowly creeping onto his own face.
"You must learn to join the dance! So how do judge what one is worth, by what he builds or buys? You can never see with your eyes on earth, look through heaven's eyes! Look at your life, look at your life, look at your life through heaven's eyes!"
Wrathion beamed now, moving with the same abandon and joy of the others, the great song of the Black Dragonflight made the very earth sing. As he danced the vision muddied. People and dragons around him be came vague shapes, voices faded away and the proud, happy image of Neltharion melted before his eyes. When he next blinked he was again floating in the nexus of the bronze's pocket universe.
He knew he'd never left, and he saw other dragons snap out of their own visions. He felt the eyes of the Aspects on him again. They said nothing, only regarded him with inscrutable looks. Wrathion stared back, and the Queen of Dragons must of seen something, because she nodded to her cousins and sister and bowed her crowned, ruby colored head.
"How we miss him."
She said this to all around her. Other heads bowed, and there was a murmur of sorrow heard from some. Wrathion's head was dipped, but not for mourning. He was miles away remembering the song of his dead brood.