Chapter Two
"With the formation of the Watcher Order, under the guidance of the Eternal Dragon and the Dragonseeds, the White Dragon of Death whose title is "The Potter," a thousand years of peace and prosperity fell unto the world. To protect and to serve is their mission; but on their last century, the Watchers became arrogant and many fought among themselves for power. The Long Peace has finally ended, and the call of Twilight can be heard. The Watchers are relics of the old world and the Dragonseeds are bones. There is no peace among the land, only a crucible of Chaos that devours all and eats all.
Yet not all is lost for as magic and life rises again in the broken and battered world, not all relics of the Old World is gone. Every time a pot is deemed imperfect, the Potter always breaks it to make a new one, a better one.
This I believe at least.
-Teddy Sheepstealer Lupin, Dragonseed. FENRIS, the One Who Devours the Moon.
….
Skies Above Azeroth
It has been three thousand years since the Sundering and the end of the War of the Ancients. Alexstrasza flies above the clouds watching the Eastern Continent of Azeroth below in all its bejeweled glory. Peace such as this she treasures. High above the clouds in her giant Draconian bulk, she can espy the little budding kingdoms of humans this side of the Continent. Humans, she absolutely marvel the new species that is calling Azeroth home. Hardworking, proud and tenacious, they are more bulky compared to the graceful Elves that she knows. They certainly are dreamers as far as her opinion is concerned. For such short lived species, they are doing their damnest to achieve great things. She personally cannot relate to it. She is immortal after all.
Turning her attention away from the scurries down below, Alexstrasza breathes in the fresh air from the updrafts of the sky. The world is so peaceful and calm that it is almost hard to imagine that a only a few millennia ago its skies are green and red under the terror of the Burning Legion. Until now she can still feel the devastation as if it is yesterday only.
That brings to the reasoning why Alexstrasza is doing these daily flights policing the skies of the world she is living in personally. As the Head of the Red Dragonflight after all and the Queen of the Dragons to boot, she might have given this responsibility to one of her many descendants that would have been more up to the task.
There is a reason for her actions after all.
Ever since her rather shameful defeat against Neltharion, Alexstrasza never does manage to shake away her curiosity about the giant pale white dragon that saved hers and everyone's hides in the turning point of the Battle against the Legion. In her entire life she has never felt such power. Not even the Titans in all their glory and strength wield that kind of potential of magic. The Night Elves simply chalked it as another of the Old Gods, (parasitic alien beings that ruled Azeroth before the Titans imprisoned them) that dwell now in hiding at Azeroth but Alexstrasza disagrees. She has personally after all felt that beings power. She would bet her kidneys that it does not feel like any of the Old Gods after all.
Contrary to popular belief, the Dragon Aspects after all are faintly aware of the prisons of those parasitic beings and none so far have managed to get away from their prisons or slumbers.
Thus Alexstrasza makes it her personal mission to find that being of power. The logical side of her points out that she doesn't like unknowns. As the Aspect of Life and Queen of the Dragons after all, very little escapes her notice and attention. Thus for such a power remaining hidden for so long makes her feel peeved. The practical side of her argues that whatever or whoever that being is, it is only natural that she confirms its intentions and more importantly, if they are strong enough to tackle it. After all the Dragon Aspects found the broken casing of the Dragon Soul in the aftermath of that battle after Neltharion has made his escape with half his body fried and bits broken.
It is the curious side of Alexstrasza however (which she would never admit under the pain of death) that makes her put the effort into trying to find out more about this being. She knows in her gut that this is no enemy of hers or that of Azeroth. If it is their enemy after all, it could have easily torn through them when it unleashes its fury in the skies during that turning of the tides in the War of the Ancients.
Thus she tracks the being as best as she could. Being the Aspect of Life, she cannot trace the magic that she feels before. That would be simply impossible and more of Malygos' realm. The Blue Dragon however seems to be having issues the past three thousand years about anyone using magic. So that's a big no-no. The last thing that Alexstrasza wants is for her younger brother alienating what she hopes to be a good ally just because of his personal prejudicial views.
With tracking the being through magic is a big no-no. Tracking it through her domain is not impossible. Sure it is harder and takes time. She is the Aspect of Life after all and she can trace the life signature of any being in this planet if she put time and effort on it. Each living thing after all has a life signature and Alexstrasza has been able to imprint that life signature of their game changer to her brain despite only seeing it for a moment.
Thus she tracks it as best as she could by memory and feelings only. Three Thousand years, this self-imposed mission of hers have gone and now she can feel it, she is near. Years upon years of effort are now bearing fruit as she closes in the gap between her and her destination.
Is she giddy? You bet she is.
Massive flaps of her wings makes the Queen of the Dragons descent before she finally can feel it, the ever nearing aura of life which is so similar from that being of power before. Too engrossed is the giant red dragon on her excitement that when the clouds finally parted before her, she is totally caught off guard by a giant metal door carved into the side of the mountain going nearer and nearer.
If dragons can scream she might have as she panicky tries and fails to stop her rapid descent. Unfortunately giant drakes no matter how powerful simply has no built-in brakes within themselves.
With an almighty clang, the Queen of the Dragons slams face first clumsily into the metal gate before crashing down unto the ground with a small earthquake, stars forming around her head. The sound of cackling laughter snaps Alexstrasza from her star-spangled vision as her healing powers kick in quickly removing any sort of trace of damage in her.
"You are extremely over-excited into crashing into that door young one. I have to admit it has been a while since I saw a dragon charge in recklessly like a youngling at the side of a mountain," she looks at the source of the voice and blinks at the sight of an old man walking in a wobble on his staff. His hair is grey and uneven on places. Creases covers his face showing his extremely advanced age, not to mention the wrinkles. Her eyes wander to his ears, they are round, not elven.
"Human,"
One thing bothers Alexstrasza though. "You are not afraid of me?" she asks transforming into her high elven form. Immediately she grimaces as the old man whistles glancing appreciatively at her body. She can never understand why many of the two-legged beings find her form appreciative. Did they simply miss the horns at her head?
"If I am in my younger years lady dragon, I might have run to the hills at your very presence. I am an old man however right now and I would never be able to make five steps before you eat me. If you are here to much on my frail form though, I might add that you would be terribly disappointed. I am afraid I don't have enough meat in my old bones for you to be full. Though I must say that if all dragons transform into beautiful beings like yours and scantily clad, many of my people's opinions about you will change,"
Alexstrasza does her best to totally ignore the last part of the sentence as if it's never there. She wonders if this old man has a death wish. If it is any dragon but her, he might have been dragon chowder by now. Until now she has no idea why humans are so prudish when it comes to clothing. Why bother hiding your magnificence? That is just weird. She is already pushing herself when it comes to clothes by hiding her High Elven Privates via her armored bra and Underwear with Metal thigh boots, gauntlets and a transparent cape behind her. Personally she would have no issue walking naked but apparently humans and Elves are prudish when it comes to going commando.
"You are right old man. I am not here to eat you," she curtly answers before her eyes espy the rather shabby looking hut at the side of the mountain. "You are a hermit?"
"Guilty as charged," he grins toothily. She can espy emerald tired eyes beneath those wrinkled eyelids glowing in wisdom. "I believe you are also here for the gate then my lady?"
"Gate?" he wordlessly gestures at her back making Alexstrasza turn.
The moment her eyes lay on whatever he is pointing, she gasps for good reason. She originally thought she crashed into a mountain. She is wrong. What lies before her is a giant metal gate where even in her full form she can walk freely. It is the carving of the gate however that makes her gasp. Engraved is the image of a four headed-dragon with open wings from right and left. It is exactly the same form she remembers it takes before it unleashes that lightning storm from before.
"This is….this is,"
"A relic of the Old World aye," the hermit replies with another toothed grin. "It is said that it is it's main guardian before the Fall and its destruction,"
"The Old World?" Alexstrasza looks questioningly at the man. She has no idea what this man is talking about. She has no idea what he means by the Old World. The Titans when they uplifted her and the other Aspects, they certainly made no mention of a world before her own. She also has a feeling that he does not mean the time before the Sundering when he mentions the "Old World"
"Aye, the age of our planet before we are today," his tone is extremely nostalgic. "A time of knowledge, reason and technology when man built buildings that rise to the sky, of machines that can make them travel to the farthest stars to the deepest of oceans, a time when magic and technology intertwined, a time of peace, plenty, logic and wisdom. A time of Dragons and Dragonseeds, when the Order of the Watchers ruled the land,"
Alexstrasza remains silent as in her mind a vision comes of a city larger and more organized than she has ever seen in her entire life. Humans are everywhere and she can neither explain nor understand half the things she is seeing. As fast as it came, it disappears and Alexstrasza is left looking at the old man in confusion.
"Who are you? How do you know all this?" she asks him as he smiles sadly.
"I am a simple adventurer lady dragon. My name….I've forgotten for it's been so long. People simply call me The Potter. I have devoted almost forty years of my life trying to open this gate. It has four locks all in all and I only have one that I manage to collect through great pain and tribulation," he smiles ruefully as he takes from his grey robes a key made of dragon bone.
"It fits into one of the locks of the four heads. I believe that if all four locks are collected, it would open. I believe this your job lady dragon. You are here also for whatever is inside right?"
Alexstrasza just nodded mutely as she receives the dragon bone key from those frail hands. Already she can feel the same power emanating from it as the one before during the War of the Ancients.
Curiosity and resolve fills her as she looks at the old man. "Do you know where can I find all these other keys to the door old man?"
"No, not really," his green eyes how has a light to it. "But I can show you the clues I've collected all over the years that might help you in finding them,"
Alexstrasza just grips the key tight before looking at him sternly. "Tell me everything,"
….
Borders of Ashenvale
Illirea Stormrage, daughter of Illidan Stormrage, Druid master and Commander of the Night Elven armies during the Sundering yawns widely as she stretches.
If one has told her before that Sentinel duty would be this monotone and boring, she might never have said yes no matter how much Tyrande, her mother have egged her. Illirea is born after the end of the War of the Ancients between Tyrande and Illidan, her father's little tryst before the Druids go to sleep. Like her father, she has great affinity for Druidism, but due to the females of her race taking the Sentinel profession, she is forced to practice it privately.
Not that she has an issue on that. Being a Sentinel is great and it trained her specifically on the rigors that would be needed in defending the forests that they call home. It is an honor and a privilege to be on guard while her father rests beneath the boughs. Illirea however compared to many of her sisters is a bookworm and thus tend to walk alone studying ancient scrolls and manuscripts left behind by her father.
Illidan Stormrage is a genius when it comes to magic. However it appears that he struggles between his addiction to the Arcane according to his journals. Only during at the turning point of the battle that turned the tides of the War of the Ancients when an Old God arose and starts zapping everything around it that her father is cured of his addiction. Apparently he got hit by a stray lightning that literally messes up his ability to use arcane magic.
Frustrated and angry of being useless, he turns to Malfurion his brother for help despite his pride for the arts of the Druids. He becomes one of the strongest and largest Druid of the Claw, the Great Bear according to Kaldorei manuscripts. He is said to be extremely large that he can Pit Lords easily like rag dolls. His claws are razor sharp as that of a dragon and his roar is able to send Fel Guards fleeing en masse.
Right now though Illirea is enjoying the fruits of victory that her father and the other Kaldorei paid with their lives. Immortality and three thousand years of peace. Her hair is pale violet like her mother's and she has sharp jaws and angled features of a nameless beauty, a copy of Tyrande, the High Priestess.
"Hello, how are you?" she asks the white rabbit crouching on the stream. Of course the animal does not answer but she pats it on the head nevertheless earning her a happy wiggle.
In her boredom and not exactly feeling it to join her other sisters in the moon well for their sexual trysts. She has opted instead to rather lazily follow the animals at this side of the forest out of curiosity. For some reason they are all seeming to head towards the beach where she knows a small clearing lay just outside the dunes. It is something to do after all, and one that might relieve her boredom if she finds anything interesting.
While Ashevale is magical in many ways, three thousand years of exploring it tend to dull things. Sure she still loves the forest for it is home, but like her father, Ilirea always wants to learn new things. With her mind made up and her hunting knife and bow secured to her Sentinel armor, she follows the group of animals heading to the clearning beach. It is not actually that far.
If she's going to be honest with herself, what Illirea expects to see is at least a grove full of dryads celebrating or even a hungover group of Sentinels drunk with some stolen Temple wine. What she does not expect thought he moment she arrives at the clearing where a lone moon well is stashed is a pure white dragon drinking from said moon well with large gulps. The moon well is already half empty and the damned thing is glowing like the moon itself. Around it, the animals are perched and resting, deers, owls, birds of all kinds, bears, even furbolgs and even a small group of wolves.
The dragon suffice it to say the least is the most beautiful thing that Illirea has seen. It's scales are polished shining marble and its eyes are the deepest blue. No blemish can be found on its body and instead of leathery wings, its wings are feathered like a bird. She has no idea what the dragon is. Of course she knows about the different flights and their colors. As far as she can recall, there is no such thing as the White Dragonflight.
She must have been standing there for too long for before she knows it the Dragon looks at her direction, piercing blue eyes narrowing.
"ACCIO!"
Before Illirea knows what is happening, the obviously feminine voice of the dragon booms and she screams as an invisible hand grabs her navel pulling her mid-air to the white dragon who grabs her lithe frame mid-air in a painful squeeze.
"I am Fleur Isabelle Delacour, Dragonseed. FREYA! Valkyrie of the Cold North. Tell me alien! Which continent am I?"
Illirea really wants to answer, but unfortunately the shock of seeing the dragon and it attacking her without provocation has rather glued her tongue at the top of her mouth. Plus there's also the painful reminder that her bare navel feels like it is being crushed in a vice grip by the dragon's paw.
"Never mind that, I always enjoyed a challenge when my prey is stubborn," it gives off its equivalent of a draconic grin making Illirea if possible fear for her life even more. She is already regretting coming here. Dragons are illogical creatures and wild. She's got a feeling that she would not come out of this clearing other than a pile of dragon shit.
"Zeym Ma, look into my eyes little one. Look into my eyes," it gently croons and for some reason against her own will, Illirea turns to look at those serpentine beautiful blue eyes. For some reason she feels light, lighter than she has ever felt in her entire life.
"That's it Zeym Ma, Sleep….and let me in," Illirea wants to shout, to rage but all she can do is nod as something enters her through the eyes and going directly to her brain invading every thought, every memory and every scrap of knowledge there are.
