For the Love of...
Varian watched silently as the marble stone avatar of Neltharion, the Earth-Warder, slowly began to make his way towards Calia. He breathed slowly, taking note that Calia was distracted, her hand on her dagger loose. Neltharion stepped lightly his eyes shown his concern.
"Calia, please, just put the dagger down," he said. "Put it down and come back with me. There's no need for this."
Varian took in a deep breath and then reached for Calia's calf, causing her to loose her footing. The rogue slammed hard upon the ground as the king rolled out of the way.
"Calia!" Neltharion called.
Calia rolled away just as Varian raised his sword. Her foot came slamming right between his legs. The sword dropped with a clash and Neltharion winced at the sound, a blinding white light now filling his visions again. The dragon faltered slightly, the ringing of the metal deafening him. Varian fell afterwards, coming to his kneels. She swung her foot and kicked Varian in the head. He land upon his side.
"Do you have any idea what he said to me about you?" she asked.
Neltharion slowly moved closer to her and then paused, leaning back on his haunches. He raised his front paws and with a dismissive gesture, said: "I don't care what he said, Cali. I just want you to come back to Wyrmrest with me."
"How can you not care about all I am doing for you?" asked Calia "Protecting you from people like him!"
"Calia, I don't need your protection," he said. "And I don't want you to risk your loyalty with Stormwind. Please, think about all they've done for you. You've reminded me time and time again why you won't take a neutral stance, and it's because of what the Alliance has done for you, kept you safe. Do you want to throw all that away? Don't make the same mistake that I have, that your brother has. Don't betray the people who have given everything to you."
Varian looked to both once more, just as Calia stood over him again, her dagger pointed at him. He shifted his eyes between them. He slowly began to slide away once more. Calia turned her head slightly as she heard the sound of his heavy maile scraping across the stone. She bent down and thrusted the long dagger deep into the king's shoulder. The blade pierced all the way through and pinned him to the ground.
"Don't go anywhere," she whispered. She grinned at his pained groans.
"Calia," began Neltharion. "Please! Let him go!"
"You ungrateful bastard," she called. "What all have you done for me? What all have any you done for me? What all he's done...what has he done? Except take my name away, give me a new one, and hide me somewhere on some gods-forsaken continent far away from my home. And then he promises me that maybe he'll get Lordaeron back for me." She moved towards the stone dragon. "I lost my identity the moment I lost my family. But I have done everything for you, for him, for his selfish war! I gained nothing but empty promises..."
"Hone, I am your family," said her husband. "And you are mine..."
"My home..."
"Is with me," said Neltharion. "Right here with me."
The Earth-Warder knelt to his knees, raising his paws up in pleading.
"My world, I beg you, to stop this! Don't turn against your allies. Don't turn your back on me, or on anyone that you care about."
"Turn my back?" she asked. "On those who I care about? I've cared, for far too long I've cared...and what has that gotten me?"
Nothing!
Not your home.
Not your father.
Not even Neltharion has give your home back to you.
He's too weak to take back your home for you.
If he truly loved you, he would give you Lordaeron and destroy those who harmed it.
"Empty promises," said Calia, answering her own question. "That's what my caring got. My loyalty to my people got me shoved off to Kalimdor, a world away from Lordaeron. And not once has he or you made the attempt to bring me home." She looked to the guards and smiled. "I am Calia Menethil, Princess of Lordaeron, and I am married to a husband who has the power to crumble cities with a stamp of his foot and yet he can't chase the Banshee Queen out of my city because he's a pussy neutral! Neltharion can't get involved, can't save innocent lives that bitch is destroying, because he's neutral. But I have to fight your war, help you save the world from squid monsters and shadows that go bump in the night. But never have you fought my war." Calia leapt up into the air and swung her foot against Neltharion's head. He staggered back, falling to his all fours. He held up a claw to his face as she landed.
"Where did this come from?" he asked. "Your war? What war? You want me to go and kick Sylvanas out of the Under City, rid all of Lordaeron of the Forsaken. Is that what you want me to do? Those Forsaken are your people as well, Calia."
"You're just too weak to, my love," she said in spite. "And I take care of you like a suckling babe. What kind of a husband are you? I protect you. I take care of you because no one will. So, I don't ask for much, just my home." She pointed to Varian. "He is like all the rest. He wants to take you away for me like he allowed my home to be taken away from me. He wants to do that to you!" She raised her finger up to the rotting, severed head of Neltharion's daughter Onyxia hanging from the wall. "And like Sylvanas, Varian has refused you even a chance to mourn for her death I haven't mourn for the death of my father."
"I did mourn for her at the shrine," said Neltharion, fighting a growing pain in his heart as he looked upon his daughter's head.
"A headless body," said Calia. "While he still parades her on the gates of Stormwind. He defiles your daughter's body! A real man would take the head, you are a sniveling whelp."
Among the argument, Varian gripped the dagger in his shoulder. With a pained grunt, he slowly pulled the dagger out. Blood and flesh hung from the blade, turning it a dark red. His strength stolen from his as blood seeped out of his wound. Knights came to his aid, lifting him up gently to his feet. Varian groaned again, wincing in pain as his shoulder shifted.
"Your Grace," began a knight. "You need a healer. Leave them to their squabble, we must leave the city."
"I will not suffer traitors," said Varian. "Nor the folly of Deathwing!"
"You'll not suffer long if your wound is not dressed, sire," said the knight.
"Then patch me up!" said Varian. "I will stay here. I want to see this."
With one strong hand, he tore the pauldron from his shoulder, revealing the deep gash. He dropped the bloodied armor to the ground. Neltharion winced again as he heard the sound of the metal hit the stone.
"To the victor goes the head," Varian whispered.
With Neltharion once more blinded by the sound of metal clanking upon stone, Calia made her move. She fired upon her husband. Hearing the sounds of gunfire, Neltharion rolled away, allowing the bullets to hit his wing. His vision cleared and he felt the vibrations of her feet through the stone as they padded towards him. Then, there was nothing. Through the rock, he felt the air current change and Neltharion raised his claw to snatch up Calia's ankle. He slung her down to the ground. Calia rolled away and watched her husband as he passed himself between her and Varian. He took on a defensive stance, digging his marble claws into the stone.
"I don't want to fight you," he said.
"Then leave with your tail between your legs, whelp," said Calia.
Whelp, that's the second time she's called me that. She's never called me that before. What is wrong with Calia?
Neltharion turned slightly to Varian: "What are you foolish mortals waiting for? Get out of here! Stormwind is in flames, there is nothing else you can do."
"No thanks to you, Deathwing," said Varian. "I should have let you rot with your daughter."
"I thought you forgave me," said Neltharion.
"Varian lied!" Calia said.
Of course he lied!
That is what they do, lie.
You above all should understand lies, whelp.
They all give you promises, but in return, only give you pain.
But we promised you greatness, Neltharion...
And you lied to us most of all...
Neltharion's eyes opened wide upon hearing those horrible voices inside his mind for the first time in months. Though the voices had no affect upon him anymore, they could no longer drive him to madness. He was stronger than that now. He knew their tricks. He knew their devices. They could not fool him again. But here they were, speaking to him once more. The voices came from a central point, hissing and rattling in his mind. Neltharion looked to Calia, noticing her gripping something hidden beneath her tunic.
"Keep it safe..." He remembered himself saying to her when he handed her the Dragon Soul. The Dragon Soul spoke to him again with all the worms of the depths that drove him mad 10 thousand years ago.
"He only told you what you wanted to hear," said Calia, bringing his thoughts back to her. "He only told me what I wanted to hear, like he used to play my father and my brother. They were best friends, but there was that resentment. It's because he knew he was second best, always never good enough. Why do you think he sent me away, across the sea to be taken care of by my brother's sweetheart? To be shoved away and forgotten by my people! Never given me to chance to avenge my father's murder? So he could, right? So he could look heroic in my people's eyes. He wants me home for himself. He wants what belongs to me! He wants to rule what is rightfully mine, to take my people away from me! But they are mine! Lordaeron is mine! You are mine! He wants to take what is mine. I won't let him have it!"
Neltharion stared at her, dumbfounded. As he looked upon her, he saw not only Arthas, he saw himself. Calia gripping the Dragon Soul tightly like he used to.
"Calia," Neltharion said, stepping towards her again. He began to form the words inside his head, words that Alexstrasza once said to him 10 thousand years ago when he said something similar. "What...madness has gripped you, let it go! This is not you! Don't...don't become me. Don't become what I became. Don't become a monster too." He knelt down again, his paws upturned to her. "For the sake of my love to you, Cali, give me the Dragon Soul and put aside the madness."
Alexstrasza and Malygos begged the same thing.
But you turned against them.
And now Malygos is dead and Alexstrasza still resents you.
Calia only smirked at him.
"Look how pathetic you are, begging me," she said. She moved close to her husband raising a hand to him. Calia softly laid her hand upon his cheek and whispered bitter-sweetly. "You should beg me. And often. For I am the one to keep you safe. And I will keep you safe, my husband. I won't let Varian or anyone else in this world harm you. Not the Alliance, not the Horde, not even Alexstrasza and the other dragons. I will keep you safe."
Then, with unreal, shocking strength, Calia punched the marble statue of her husband. Neltharion paused feeling the marble crack and splinter. One by one, the pieces fell into a pile of marble before Calia. She turned her attention to Varian, stepping over the rubble that was her husband. As she took another step, the ground itself quaked violently. She began to lose all footing and she toppled to the ground. Varian and his guards watched on as rock creatures suddenly burst out from the stone of Stormwind, each one taking on the shape of the Earth-Warder. He looked up to find another rock Neltharion leaping out over the wall, joining 4 others. Each one was made from various mixtures of rock, dirt, and slightly covered in moss. One of the Neltharion(s) had draping roots on its underbelly and a patch of weeds growing from its back. Another looked to have a mixture of sandstone around his feet with limestone strata streaking across the neck. The fifth Neltharion was formed from slightly darker rock with a reddish film on top and veins of gold and silver along its flank. Varian suspected that the reddish film was iron oxidizing from the moisture. Five pairs of eyes glistened like emerald green gems. Truly, what he saw was a sample of what the Earth-Warder really was, the stone, the rock, the dirt of the World.
"I will say again, Calia," began the iron Neltharion. "Come back with me to Wyrmrest. Give me the Dragon Soul and come back with me to Wyrmrest. Everything will be alright."
"Everything won't!" said Varian. "You two have caused enough problems. When this is all done...I will have both your heads on pikes."
"Varian," said the sandstone Neltharion. "You don't understand. She is being controlled. She is not herself. Everything she is saying right now are not her words. It would be wrong to punish her. You know she would never do this..."
"Would she?" asked Varian. "She is her brother's sister...and your wife. You two really do deserve each other."
Calia shook her head and suddenly vanished.
"Calia!" Neltharion called. Four of his avatars darted off for her, following the sounds of her footsteps through the ground. The iron Neltharion turned back to Varian.
"I don't care what hatred you have for me," he began, lowly. "I don't care what you think about me. Why should I care whether or not you forgive me? Why should I beg forgiveness from a human who won't even matter 60 years from now? You are nothing, Varian. And you know it. You are a little man with a tiny kingdom. You think you are in control in the east, but you are not. Every step you take on this world, I will know. I can hear where you go, who you talk with, and I can see what you do. And I can be anywhere you are in just a matter of seconds." He paused and looked around. "The next time you threaten my wife or threaten me, the Great Divide that separated the Barrens will pale in comparison to the burning gorge I will create to replace Stormwind with. Your little kingdom will be the site for the birth of a new sea. And I will tear it right through the Eastern Kingdoms, creating a fourth continent. Do you understand?"
Varian leaned upon his knight's shoulder, staring at the Earth-Warder with cold, dark eyes.
"Take His Grace to some place safe," said Neltharion to the knight. "Protect him and heal him."
"Y...yes..." he said.
"Yes, what?" asked Neltharion.
"Yes, my lord," said the knight.
"That's right," he said with a grin. "Take him away."
0
The four Earth-Warder avatars filed through the streets, following Calia as she made her way towards the wizarding district. Her stealth was not good enough to hide herself from her husband's ability to see through the vibrations of the rock. She toppled over a cart, sending a wave of white light into the four avatars' senses. They paused, momentarily blinded by white light. She looked back to see the dragons wincing, holding their heads. Smiling she spied the Eastern Earthshrine through the trees and across the lake. Calia dashed into the woods towards the lake and dove in. The shrine rested upon an island out in the middle of the lake. The earthy dragons felt their sight coming back to them. They turned their heads, sensing ripples hitting against the shore. As they made their way to the lake, one of the dragons dipped its claw into the water. Though he could sense the vibrations through the water, the liquid made what he sensed fuzzy. However, he and his three other companions knew Calia was heading for the shrine. The four dove into the ground. Just as Calia rose from the water, shaking rivulets off of her body, the four Neltharions leapt out of the ground.
"Calia, please!"
"Think about what you are doing."
"Don't make the mistake I did."
"Just come back with me."
"No," said Calia. "Stay out of my way!"
Calia backed away, coming to a portal surrounded by twisted, spikes made of elementium.
"I do this for you, Neltharion," said Calia. "I am ridding the world of all that will harm you. I will make this world perfect for you, so that you can live in safety and without fear. I will do what should have been done. Then, I will return for Varian. You will see, my husband. The world I will make for you will be just like you wanted. Perfect. And all those who seek to harm us will be destroyed."
I will have my world perfect again! Those who are not fit to serve me will be slain!
He said something all to similar long ago. Neltharion's consciousness winced with his memory of that day, his heart sinking to hear words he spoke as well coming from his own wife.
"Calia," said the four dragons in unison. "Please. Don't do this. Come back with me. Come back to Wyrmrest. Just let go of the disk. Just let it go."
"It is the key," said Calia. "You know it is. Nozdormu said it was. And I will use it! I will make this world safe with it."
"It's not yours to use," said Neltharion, almost kicking himself for saying it. "It is..." he swallowed... "...mine."
His heart contacted with pain when he said those words. He wanted to rip his own throat out.
"You will get it back, my love," she said. "When I am done making this world perfect for you."
With that, Calia disappeared through the purple portal.
"Calia!" called the four dragons. Their forms crumbled.
Neltharion opened his eyes in a sea of fire and molten rock. He wanted to cry, but the heat was so intense, he could not form tears. He felt a sob strain his throat.
Making the world perfect...he bit his lip. This world is perfect. Because it is imperfect. I love this world just the way it is. I love her just the way she is. Why have you evil monsters turned her against me? The Dragon Soul, I have to get the Dragon Soul away from her. I have to save her from its corruption. It cannot be purified. No matter what they said, it can never be purified. Just use it for what it was intended to be used for and destroy it! I should have destroyed it before. Right when we were winning, I should have destroyed it, broken the matrix! I should have listened to Alexstrasza, to Malygos. My arrogance will cost me everything, including the last person on this world who loves me. No, I won't let that horrible thing take her away from me too. Time be damned, it will be destroyed! And only I can destroy it.
He felt his great strength return to him, his body healed by the blood of the world he protected. Neltharion felt his spirit rejuvenated. His world was in danger. No, he did not mean Azeroth, though it was in danger. It was his world, his Calia, she was in danger. He could sense her movements, see where she was. She was in the Twilight Highlands. But then, she disappeared. The last image he had of her was she taking a gryphon, and then vanished. The only reason for her vanishing was she was no longer in contact with ground. His incredible sight through vibrations of the world was only limited to what he could see making vibrations on the ground. Water and air was a problem. He could barely see through water and when someone took to the sky, he was blinded. He had to go there himself and find her with his regular eyes.
Neltharion pushed himself off of the rocky ledge in the lava tube he was submerged in and began to swim through the flow of lava. He felt the pressure of the lava grow as he neared the mantle, but the pressure did not bother him. An ordinary mortal would be crushed by the pressure if they were not incinerated by the heat first, but he was the Earth-Warder. Swimming through the molten crevices of the world was one way he got around. He dove down into the mantle, the impressions of the world reversed. Mountains were valleys, trenches became peaks. Though his eyes were open, his visual sight was impaired by the bright glow of the soup of rock he swam through. Though he could see through the vibrations and they guided him. Neltharion hugged close to the rim of the crust as he felt through for an opening close to the Twilight Highlands. A hotspot flowed upwards and the vibrations produced familiar images of folded hills and a mine. Rich volcanic pools bubbled up to the surface. Though one opening he could sense he could push himself through with very little damage to land around him. It was an opening through a large mountain. It was a volcano.
Blackrock Mountain!
He had swam himself south all the way to the Burning Steps. Kaz Modan was just right around the corner.
0
Blackrock Mountain shook violently. A tremor rumbled through the rock. Splits formed, releasing noxious gases and hot steam. Out from the cone of the volcano, black smoke erupted forth. Lightning flashed within the ash cloud. Lava bombs shot forth, pelting the foot of the mountain. Lava poured out from the vents along the summit. Below, the fiery elementals left behind by Ragnaros looked up with wonder as to what could have awoken the mountain. The mountain always smoked, always had some rivers of lava flowing forth to collect into pools below, but never was the eruption so violent as now. A claw as black as the rock around it, dripping with lava rose from the crater of the volcano itself. The mountain burst forth, sending a rush of ash and debris in a violent black, superheated cloud. Something roared through the cloud as the surge flowed forward, destroying the settlements of remaining Dark Horde that still resided there. The Dark Iron Dwarves watched with bewilderment as the mountain bellowed again and fiery tips of black wings flapped through the surge. The ground shuck beneath their towers and the iron began to buckle. A dwarf looked up as the tower started to tilt, seeing the form of a black dragon through the pyroclastic surge. There was only one dragon who could cause a mountain to tremble with such fury.
"Deathwing!" he called. "Deathwing!"
Neltharion took the sky, his wings alight with the fire and ash from the volcano. His fire surged forth from his wings, blanketing the ground below him and burning over the blackened land. He gave a flap and carried the pyroclastic cloud with him up over the mountains that bordered Kaz Modan. Below him were the snowy mountains of Ironforge. His fire melted the snow, causing a surge of mud and ice to waste away the tall pines and dwarven villages.
Forgive me...came the only apology he could think of. There was nothing he could do. His body glowed too hot. Neltharion only hoped that the fire would cool once he came to the Twilight Highlands, but to lay waste and burn right through to the citadel delighted him. He wanted to destroy them all. Calia was all that mattered. He banked off, seeing the hidden doors of the dwarven city up on the side of the tallest mountain.
Miss it, just miss it!
He would take his fire else where.
I will fix it all later, I will fix it all later!
The clouds around his wings thinned. The fire that burned his body was going out. Neltharion flapped again, dispersing the ash cloud. He felt the coolness of the air around him finally and he took comfort in it. His flight path had not gone unnoticed by the dwarves. As the last bit of the ash cloud rained down upon them, they watched on with straight faces as the Great Black swiftly flew above them. Someone had to warn Stormwind.
Neltharion banked off over the mountains towards the west, seeing the stormy skies that blanketed the Twilight Highlands.
"Calia," he whispered. "Don't do it. Please, don't do it. Please, don't get yourself killed just to protect me. Don't make the same mistakes I've made. I don't know what I'll do without you. Don't leave me behind!"
His heart pounded as he pumped his wings powerfully. All he could do was think of her. For that, he nearly forgot about Ultraxion, who was still heading for Northrend. Not even Ultraxion mattered. Only Calia.
For the love of Calia.