In his internal place Bolvar never got visitors. Only a few had come by. He couldn't talk to them only watch them from his new throne. Bolvar never felt more alone than now, but he guessed this was the price for being the jailor of the damned. For how much longer he could hold that title he didn't know. For a year now his power had been weakening. Stronger undead and independent necromancers had been breaking away his prisoners. Making their own Scourges. He knew some were working with the disappeared Kel'thuzad. Others were independent. In any case it was terrifying. Frostmourne shattered pieces were stolen from the citadel recently and Bolvar feared that Kel'thuzad had something to do with it.
As Bolvar's power over the undead weakened so did his icy prison. It melted a little everyday and soon he'd be able to fully move his hands. I should leave Northrend when I can. Maybe I will take up with the Ebon Knights. Bolvar would have sighed if he could have. RIght now he was only alive through the magic of the dragonflights fire. Bolvar decided he would go to the red dragonflight once he could and maybe get some kind of blessing before he left. He still had some connection to the light and he had even been blessed with some of the powers of the dragonflight. He no longer was a mortal. Bolvar didn't need rest or fodder. He ran off the life energy that was ingrained into him with Alexstrasza's fire. Thinking of his inner fire seemed to warm up the ice more and more. Bolvar could move his hands and feet now.
In the distance there was a screech. A red drake flew by the citadel window. Bolvar was surprised he hadn't seen a dragon around here in years. He knew there were two at the dragonshrine, but they never left there. He could hear footsteps bouncing off the walls as somebody came into the room. It was a high elf dressed in red armor, but Bolvar new this wasn't any normal high elf. The elf carried to much power in him.
"Bolvar Fordragon. I have come here to release you of your vigilance. Your power has weakened to were you no longer control any undead and the Helm of Damnation has become useless." spoke the dragon in elf form. The elf began to move his arms in a way then he opened his mouth and fire came searing out. Melting away all the ice that still surrounded Bolvar.
"What has happened to cause this?" asked a surprised Bolvar as he got used to moving again.
"A great darkness is coming. Not even us dragons know what it is. All we know it is dark and more terrible than anything we have fought lately.
"Could it be the Legion?"
"Mayhaps, but the Queen isn't sure." A chest appeared next to the elf then. Some kind of spell. "Master Bolvar you are immortal, but you aren't invincible. Here is some armor and a sword crafted by the Dragonsworn with dragon magic. They are made from titansteel and enchanted by all the former aspects. It will serve you well."
Bolvar looked upon the armor and sword. The armor was heavy gold plate with black scale mail for the joint pieces. The helmet was a black and gold great helm. The sword was a katana forged in the way of the Tishino clan of humans that were found in the South Seas. There was a swordsman in Stormwind who was a part of the clan. Master Wu was his name. Bolvar strapped it all on and the dragon-elf nodded.
"Very well Master Bolvar. You will be given teleportation to Stormwind. You must warn King Varian as to what I have told you. All available dragons are coming here to discuss what is to happen. We can spare nobody, so you must do the journey." After the dragon stopped talking he turned and muttered a phrase and a portal opened. "Destiny favor you Fordragon."
"Many thanks… What shall I call you?" asked Bolvar as the dragon never gave his name.
"You may call me Cleos, now we must separate." The dragon took no time. He morphed into a dragon. The dragon turned it's head to Bolvar and screeched then took flight and was gone before Bolvar could even step towards the portal. Bolvar found himself looking into the portal. Every once in awhile you would see a glimpse of the gates, but mostly just swirling purple and green. Bolvar look down and then look into the sky through a hole in the broken citadel ceiling. Oh Tyr. Hear my pleas. Bless me with your warmth and with your praise. Bolvar's face grew determined as he stepped into the portal.