XI
Neltharion walked slowly through the caverns, seeing civilians from Theramore move most of their precious belongings into the temporary shelters. Dragonspawn and drakes assisted Theramore soldiers with the handling the of the supplies. Jaina was still in Dalaran, attempting to gain the Kirin Tor's support in Theramore's defense. He sat upon a great cliff covered in moss, looking out over the cascading waterfall which plummeted into the cavern's underground river. Sandstone filtered the water through the rocks, clearing the salt from the sea above, making the water sweet and safe to drink. Dense jungles of tall trees a thousand feet high covered the floor of the vast underworld that the Dustwallow Marsh Black Dragonflight called home. Shifting bands of illuminescent birds fluttered through the misty clouds clinging to the ceiling. A dome of captured golden sunlight hung from above, powered by the warmth of florescent gases. And as the tides flowed on above, it gave the caves a stable and gradual day and night cycle.
Though, the humans were careful not to go too deep into the vast caverns and they still cleaned to the rock ledges above the bottom floor. They remained safely between a small cushion of boiling heat coming up from the core and the protective layer above. Neltharion knew if they went any further down, the pressure and the heat would take them. Through his own control over the climate within the caverns that were once Onyxia's lair, he created a comfortable spot for the humans to hide under. The weather in their cushion felt like the mild coolness of autumn and trees alight with fiery colors gave them a sense of comfort. The waterfall forked off to this protective area, providing them with plenty to drink from or bathe in. A day had gone by as Neltharion watched over while his wife Calia assisted in making sure the civilians were comfortable.
They were after all her people––the remains of the people of Lordaeron who had not succumbed to the Plague of Undeath. At the start of the Third War, Jaina Proudmoore led them here across the Great Sea to safety within the wilderness of Kalimdor. Calia Menethil, now known as Calia Hastings, followed her after her own training with the assassins of Stormwind Intelligence––and her physical augmentation. Whether her people knew or not, there was at least one last Menethil willing to watch over them in this strange land.
They lost their home during the Third War, and now they could lose their new home in Theramore.
Neltharion rumbled as he reclined to his side. Ruthian and Calia were setting down the last of the crates for the day. She looked up, pulling a stray lock from her eyes and met her husband.
"What's bothering you?" she asked.
"I'm just hoping you're not straining yourself," he replied. "I don't want––"
"Look, I'm not nine months pregnant," said Calia. "It's just been six weeks. You're lucky you weren't there for my throwing up constantly days."
"Then I would be worrying over feeding you the wrong food," said Neltharion as he moved his huge head down towards her. "And worried you'll get dehydrated. In fact, since it's so warm here, why don't you go get a drink from the spring. You're drinking for two now. And I should be moving those boxes."
"No, sweetie," said Calia. "I'm fine. You just work on adding a new wing in the safety zone. And maybe a new false exit too?"
"We've already got fifty of those," said Neltharion. "And a seventy dead end passages. This place is gonna be so confusing even I'll get lost."
"One more couldn't hurt," said Calia.
Neltharion's shoulders slumped and his head dipped down with a frustrated grunt.
"Fine!" he said. "One more."
"This time in the southeast end, hun," she said. "You've filled the northwest with too many."
"You're the architect, dear," said Neltharion as he rose up to his all fours. "I'm just the glorified hole-digger."
"That's a good boy."
Neltharion settled back down and closed his eyes. His spirit extended out and then down into the rock. They were connected, as if to say there was no line between where Neltharion began or the rock ended. They were one. The tunnels he chose for alteration vibrated and warped as he reached out to them. Twist and turns and the tunnels bent. The ends closed as rocks melted into place like maple sap, covering the openings with glistening crystalline surfaces. Neltharion pulled the tunnels together, creating bends and U-turns. They became like a labyrinth of stone and laced with veins of reddish, oxidizing, rusting iron and streaks of gold, silver. Stripes of green thorium glowed eerily in the dark and peach-colored copper broke through them.
The tunnels looked more like what it looks like to be inside of a seaman's knot. Then, Neltharion withdrew his consciousness, his spirit returning back to his body. He laid his head down and rumbled a purr, exhausted by his chore of altering the tunnels. He extended his wings slightly, letting them drape over the ledge like a wrinkly, reddish black curtain. His beard draped over the other ledge and he sat and listened to the calming sounds of his enormous waterfall as it roared on down the river. The cool wind rushing up from the cascading water blew at his locks and the fresh, sweet scent tickled his nose.
He loved it in this cavern he had created.
I should show this place to our guests, he thought.
Then, Neltharion's purr grew louder as he felt a pair of tiny hands comb their way through his beard. He craned his head to find Calia setting in a nest of black locks, playing with them as she smiled upon him.
"You fixed the tunnels?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied. His emerald green eyes narrowed. "Why are you looking at me that way?"
"What way?"
"Like you're looking into a dream?"
Calia smiled: "Because you're so damned handsome."
Neltharion deeply chuckled. Just as she got up off his beard, he raised his head carefully as to not disturb her. He moved his head slowly and nuzzled against the back of her torso.
"I love you," the Black Dragon said in a low, soft whisper.
"I love you too," said Calia. "If we decide to have this baby, and maybe it won't turn out to look so––monstrous––how do we explain to the child who and what you are?"
"I don't know," said Neltharion. "Something like this has never happened before."
"I just like to know how this happened," said Calia. "And how it happened the last time. We're not exactly the same species, and well––there's something about you––that's different even from the other dragons. They don't have your lava blood, they don't have a lot of things you got."
Neltharion rumbled, his shoulders moved up and down in a shrug, causing his wings to open just ever so slightly. He snapped to his back again.
"I dunno," he replied.
He tilted his head, looking upon her with almost child-like eyes. Whenever he looked at her like that, she would almost forget that he's tens of thousands of years older than herself.
Neltharion's head tilted as Ruthian came walking upon the cliff right beside his great flank. He bowed slightly.
"Lady Jaina has brought members of the Kirin Tor," he said. "I figured you both would want to see them."
"Obviously," said Neltharion. "Who all decided to join her?"
"Not many, unfortunately," said Ruthian. "But we now have the aid of Rhonin Redhair, the Leader of the Kirin Tor."
"Rhonin?" asked Neltharion, his face brightened when he heard that name. "Rhonin is here?"
"Yes, sir," said Ruthian. "Serinar is there with Jaina now, greeting them as you two help with the supplies in the caverns."
"Who else came?" asked Calia.
"Rhonin has brought along his wife, the Ranger-General Vereesa Windrunner," said Ruthian. "And four premier magi, one particular belonging to the Sunreavers."
"Horde," said Calia. "Why the hell would they help us defend Theramore?"
"Because his superior, Aethas Sunreaver has ordered it," said Ruthian. "To not aid us would make many question the Kirin Tor's neutrality––"
"And make them look like more supporters of Garrosh's march," said Neltharion. "And Aethas Sunreaver, despite being a member of the Horde, understands the importance of the Kirin Tor's neutrality." He grinned. "So, Rhonin dragged his wife here too, huh?"
Ruthian straightened his back, straightening out his white Theramore tabard : "Actually, as the Ranger-General put it––to make sure that you do not drag Rhonin off for a run around all the pubs in town, my Lord."
Neltharion chuckled as he got to his feet, allowing his body to shrink down until his wife only came up to his shoulder. He nuzzled her again, giving her a soft kiss upon her neck. She laid her hand upon the back of his neck and they started their walk out the tunnel's exist that opened up into Theramore's park. Though as he walked out, Neltharion could not help but to sense that someone was missing.
"What happened to Kalecgos?" he asked.
"Flew off again to continue his search for the Focusing Iris," said Ruthian. "He said that he will return shortly to hopefully help us defend the island."
"Will he bring his dragons?" Neltharion asked.
"No," said Ruthian. "He wants to do this himself."
"It's because of Jaina," said Calia. "He's only here to help Jaina. Why would any of his dragons want to assist in Theramore's defense when they have nothing to do with it––outside of their own Aspects little crush?"
"It's because he is their Aspect," said Neltharion. "He is their leader, if he needs their help––then regardless to what they may think––they should go as commanded."
Apparently you've forgotten just how lively and freely my dragons can be, dear little brother.
Neltharion snorted, hearing Malygos' voice in his head. His voice only rang inside of Neltharion's mind, neither Calia nor Ruthian heard it.
You have always been the one of order. Which of course made things worse when Deathwing took over. All because of the rigid discipline you've applied to your own flight, when he had them under his spell, they were nothing more than his shadows––without thought or free will.
I suppose you're right, then, Neltharion projected back to the invisible, ghostly presence. Too orderly, too rigid. He looked to Ruthian. "Meh, we don't need their help. I've got my dragons here. And even if Stormwind arrives so late, the battle would be over, we wouldn't need them either."
You can't put all your eggs in one basket, Neltharion, Arthas chimed into his head.
Neltharion rumbled again at Arthas' comment. They were brought to the manor where they saw the gathered magi from Dalaran, including Rhonin. Standing beside Jaina was Serinar, who dipped his head. Neltharion smiled once more. He came charging for Rhonin, and before the archmage could let out a cry for help, the dragon had lifted him up to give him a big hug.
"Rhonin!" Neltharion called.
Vereesa could not help but to laugh as she watched her husband being squeezed in the Black Aspect's huge forelegs. Though, the others did not share her mirth at this sight. They were not as used to seeing Deathwing show such merriment towards anyone. And he was in a way still Deathwing to them. Rhonin, on the other hand, was laughing as he took hold of the dragon's huge neck to steady himself.
"Neltharion!" he said.
"I'm so glad you're here," said Neltharion. "Morudin makes the best sweet ale in Southern Kalimdor, you should come with me and we'll have a drink of it!"
"Well, I'd love to but––"
"But he has a job to do," said a solemn voice. Neltharion turned to see it come out of one of the magi, a massively built human male who crossed his arms. "Begging the––Earth-Warder's pardon."
"Now, if you would be so kind, Neltharion, as to put my husband down," said Vereesa. "I know it's been a while since you've seen him––"
Neltharion's lower lip stuck out in a pout as he lowered the mage down to the floor. He raised a paw up and rubbed it into Rhonin's fiery red hair. Rhonin smoothed it back and wagged his head in desperation. Vereesa walked over and stuck her finger right at the dragon.
"Now, I'm hoping you'll not plan on getting my husband drunk while we're here," she said. "The last time you did that, I found you both piled on top of each other, passed out near the fountain wearing––women's underwear on your heads."
"You did what?" Calia asked.
Neltharion snickered but Rhonin sighed in shame.
"We had fun," said Neltharion. His wife slapped him on his shoulder.
"Yes, and the local newspaper got themselves a rather embarrassing picture of it too," said Rhonin.
"I swear, Earth-Warder, you are the worst influence on my husband," said Vereesa.
Neltharion pouted again, dipping his head down as if he was a dog that had been slapped with a rolled up newspaper. He looked up at the High Elf, his green eyes pleading.
"Oh, don't look at me that way," said Vereesa.
Neltharion lowered his head between his paws, and they all could hear a very soft, high pitched whimper coming from him.
"Stop it," said Vereesa. She looked up at Calia and shook her head. "I can't see how in the world you put up with him."
"The same way you have to put up with Rhonin at times," said Calia. She lightly kicked Neltharion in the side. "Would you get up, you big baby!"
As the Black Dragon rose up, the gnome mage looked up at his companions and sighed.
"That dragon was Deathwing?" he asked.
"According to the report, that dragon was possessed by some evil spirit ten thousand years ago," said the Sunreaver mage who stood beside him. "And it was the evil spirit who was called Deathwing."
"Imagine," said the female human mage with the long black hair. "All the trouble of the Cataclysm caused by an evil spirit possessing one of the five Dragon Aspects." She wagged her head. "Still––he was Deathwing."
Neltharion lowered his chin upon Rhonin's shoulder, his eyes turning to the human and grinning largely. Rhonin lifted an arm and scratched the dragon in the scruff of his sideburns, right behind his ear hole, causing the dragon to lowly purr. His tail patted the ground with excitement, the blade on the tail clanking upon the stone.
"Alright, honey," said Calia. "Let go of Rhonin, he has to get back to work."
Neltharion purred as he lifted his chin off of the human's shoulder. The Black Dragon continued to grin.
"Tell me, what all have you both been doing while I was in Dalaran?" asked Jaina.
"Moving all the civilians into the tunnels," said Neltharion. "We've got the supplies stocked. I've created some confusing dead ends and twists in the cavern that if the Horde manages to get in there––they'll get lost. Some of the tunnels lead into lava pits, or floors made of schists."
"Made of what?" Rhonin asked. "Why do you have a floor made of shit?"
Neltharion lowered his head, smacking his palm into his forehead.
"Not shit...schist!" he said. "It's a thin, glassy, quickly cooled volcanic rock that will break if too much weight is applied to it. I've got it as a booby trap all in the tunnels so that if any Horde steps on it, they'll fall through and splash down into a lava pit."
"Gruesome," said Rhonin.
Serinar chuckled.
Neltharion sighed with a growl: "You're the one to talk. I've heard that some of the booby traps in Dalaran could turn a person inside out. At least burning in lava is a quicker death."
Rhonin sighed: "We are sick people, aren't we?"
Neltharion rose to his haunches and placed his foreleg around the human: "And this is why we make a great team."
"The best."
Calia walked over to Vereesa, placing her hand upon the High Elf's shoulder.
"I am so sorry for you," she said.
"I'm so sorry for you," said Vereesa. "We married them."
"At least you had a choice," said Calia. "My father thought it was a good idea."
"Who was your father?" the Sunreaver asked, walking a little closer to Calia.
Calia cleared her throat and looked away: "Um––no one you'd know. No one with any importance that all of you have. I'm just like any other rogue who works for our gracious Lady Jaina Proudmoore."
"Who happens to be married to a Dragon Aspect," said the Sunreaver. "How did that happen?"
"Uh well––look at the time––I better go check up on the guards," she said as she headed towards the door. Before Calia left, she gave one good slap to Neltharion's thigh. "Behave!"
Neltharion sighed and thought with some relief: That was close.
No kidding, said Arthas. The last thing we need is Sylvanas knowing the––truth.
Ruthian followed Calia, leaving his lord with the premier magi. Neltharion looked at the Sunreaver, his eyes locking with the Blood Elf's green glowing ones. He could sense something that was about this Elf as to the reason why he came. He could sense the strong loyalty to the Horde, and golden eyes set inside the glowing green, watching him back––staring at him.
Garrosh? Neltharion thought.
That Blood Elf is a spy, said Arthas.
It seems your older sister was right in her suspicion, said Malygos.
Rhonin walked around his fellow mages and motioned to them.
"Since they no doubt know who you are, Neltharion," he began. "But you don't know who they are. I would like to introduce Tari Cogg..." he motioned to the gnome magi. "Amara Leeson..." he motioned to the raven-haired female human. "Thoder Windermere..." he motioned to the hefty male human. "And finally Thalen Songweaver..." he motioned to the silvery maned Blood Elf. "And as you all can see, the rumors are true, that is the Earth-Warder."
"He still has the armor," said Tari.
"Well, my dear sister Alexstrasza could not heal everything on my body," Neltharion said. "So, she had to leave some of the armor behind. Besides, it reminds me never to become something like Deathwing ever again."
"I did notice that a lot of the plates you had on your arms and hips have been removed," said Rhonin.
"And thank goodness for that," said Neltharion. "Those kept itching."
"Neltharion is the current leader of the Dustwallow Marsh Black Dragons," said Rhonin. "All black dragons who are assisting Jaina come from the marsh."
"Not exactly, but they do live here," said Neltharion. "The Dustwallow Marsh Black Dragons are so far the only black dragons I could find who also have been cured of Deathwing's madness. There are still black dragons out there who aren't cured."
"I am one of the black dragons who came from Northrend," said Serinar as he walked towards his lord. "And unfortunately, there are still black drakes who are under the control of the Dragonmaw––for some wild reason." His red eyes narrowed at Thalen. The Blood Elf shifted uncomfortably under the dragon's gaze. Serinar continued: "And we've heard they are coming here along with the Horde. None of us right now like the idea of fighting our own siblings all because of what the Horde has done."
"No," said Neltharion. Even he stared directly at Thalen. The Blood Elf stepped back one step and swallowed hard. Neltharion rumbled, his eyes narrowing and turned to Rhonin. "I hope you and I can have a small talk, Rhonin. You know, maybe to catch up on things."
"Sure," said Rhonin. "I––had a plan to talk to you while I'm here anyways. There's something important we need to discuss."
The sun was swollen and red as it set behind the mountains. The magi were getting settled in, making their plans as to what all they could help in fortifying the stronghold. However, Rhonin and Neltharion were alone together, and the mood was nothing short of somber. Neltharion could sense the distress on Rhonin's mind. They waded out onto the beach, and the mage took in the salty sea air to clear his mind.
"How long has it really been?" Rhonin asked. "Since that day when I met Deathwing?"
"Almost 30 years," said Neltharion. "He gave you a scale from my body as a means to communicate with you as he tricked you into freeing Alexstrasza." The Black Dragon looked away. "He manipulated you––making you believe that what he was doing was because he wanted to reconcile with his siblings. But that wasn't the truth. He stole Alexstrasza's eggs to be experimented on, aiding in the creation of the Chromatic Dragonflight and later the Twilight Dragonflight. He didn't get away with every egg, though, thank goodness." He bowed his head. "And no matter how many times I say I'm sorry––I'm only thankful that he didn't hurt you when he could have. Dalaran could have lost a fine mage that day."
"I'm glad it all happened," said Rhonin. "I would have never found out the truth of my old friend Krasus. How angry I was at him, I thought I was being manipulated by dragons––not just Deathwing, but all dragons. I wasn't hurt when Deathwing betrayed his plans, someone named 'Deathwing' it's rather obvious that's what will happen. But Krasus? He was my mentor. He was like a brother to me. And he betrayed me."
Neltharion sighed as he lowered down onto the sand. He pulled his claw back and a mound of sand formed underneath it. Then with a huff and a flex of his claw, the sand took shape of a small sculpture of a familiar red dragon. Rhonin turned and sat beside the little statue, smiling sadly at it.
"He got me into all sorts of trouble," he said. "A trip through time, the destruction of the Demon Soul, trying to stop your last Prime Consort from creating the first Twilight Dragon––and then aiding in her death." He looked at the Aspect. "Thinking back on it, I feel I've wronged you."
"No, you didn't," said Neltharion, wagging his head. "What was done had to be done. I'm hurt by it, but I'm not going to tear you apart because of it. I suppose all of what happened then can now allow me to star anew. I'm a different Neltharion now––I'm not the one that was originally created by Khaz'Goroth, I'm the renewed version––freed of Deathwing's madness. It would make sense that everything I have now is different from what I had then. I can finally try again––this time try something different."
"I'm glad what happened did happen," said Rhonin. "That thing we promised never to speak about––you and I. We promised then, and when you came that night to Dalaran to visit, oh how it shocked everyone. It shocked everyone even more that I would greet you without any hostility––as if I knew that you are Neltharion, the one now freed of Deathwing, as if I knew all along that you would be. And everyone in Dalaran could never understand why I greeted you as if you were some old friend that I hadn't seen in a while. No one ever knew."
"And they'll still won't know," said Neltharion. "Ever. If we even speak of it, Nozdormu would smack both of us. Though––he knows I'll beat him back. I already did. After what happened in Northwatch, I punched my elder brother for keeping this from me. He knew that Garrosh was going to use those elementals to destroy it. But then he told me that something worse will happen, something that will force me into acting. He said if I had acted before this terrible thing––no matter how good my intensions are––it wouldn't look like that. People would shrink from me even more than they do now. I'll have no one on my side––not even my closest friends."
"A terrible thing is going to happen?" Rhonin asked. "What terrible thing?"
"Nozdormu wouldn't say," said Neltharion. "But now I'm putting all the pieces together. I guess you've heard that the Focusing Iris has been stolen."
"Jaina informed me."
Neltharion took in a deep breath and flipped a braid behind his shoulder: "Garrosh has it."
"Garrosh Hellscream has the Focusing Iris?" asked Rhonin. "Oh dear."
"That's only half of it, he's got airships and weaponry that aren't Horde make," he said. "And he used these on the Blue Dragonflight––as they were moving the Iris away from the Nexus. They used tungsten bullets in elementium jackets coupled by a dark spell that only the Twilight Hammers know how to cast. And these rounds are fired through something called a coil gun. Coil guns use electromagnetism as a way to propel the object through the shaft and out––at speeds faster than sound itself. These weapons the Titan themselves developed. They're rather primitive compared to what the Titans are capable of creating, but can be easily manufactured on a planet with ill equipped resources to produce their more advance and fancier weapons. They're quite easy to create once someone learns the mechanics and the physics on how to build one. And their airships are suspended and propelled through the sky by means of antigravity, electromagnetic pads on the bottom. I saw one. Garrosh as a couple of those ships heading for Theramore right now along with the rest of that army! None of which he is doing is using any form of magic, but rather a manipulation of the physical world." Neltharion growled. "And how he got a hold of this knowledge was through Deathwing himself. The Twilight Hammers had schematics Deathwing managed to yank out of my mind so that they could build these machines. You can't disable them with magic, thinking you're just disabling a spell that's on them."
"Garrosh uses Titan technology he stole from your mind," said Rhonin. "Krasus never told me that dragons had Titan knowledge stored in their minds."
"That's because only the Aspects have that knowledge," said Neltharion. "Well, four of us. Though Kalec has Malygos' powers as the Aspect of Magic now, he doesn't possess the knowledge. I remember little of my life before Deathwing, but what I remember comes back in vague flashes. Though, I do remember this––the mind I was granted from my father was programmed with that knowledge. Because Kalec wasn't a constructed Aspect, he never gained what Malygos has. And that knowledge Malygos took with him upon his death."
"I suppose this is one of the reasons why Aspects shouldn't die," said Rhonin. "Even if one is chosen again, they'd lose the knowledge the original had. It can't be transferred?"
"No," said Neltharion. "Not unless the Aspect decides on a successor and tells that successor everything. Nozdormu has one successor, I have no doubt he's probably filled that boy's mind with all the knowledge of his father Aman'Thul all because Aman'Thul gave Nozdormu a vision of his own death." He rumbled. "Stored within my mind is knowledge of technology beyond this world's imagination and understanding. My mind houses the knowledge to actually build worlds, not just shape them. But there is a root to that technology, it had a beginning somewhere and it was built from other technology that came before. The Titans knew this that there would be times they had to rely on old, out of date tech they hadn't used in centuries. Because sometimes it's just easier to make especially on a world that's devoid of the materials needed for the more advanced and complicated tech."
"Makes sense," said Rhonin.
"Much of the knowledge I had, Deathwing used to create the Dragon Soul," said Neltharion. "It was of Titan origins as well, but––the Old Gods assisted in altering the matrix to suit their needs. It wasn't originally designed to be used in the method it was during the War of the Ancients. It's original function was just a power amplifier and a conduit. You use it to amplify your own abilities. And when used by an Aspect––it can become quite devastating. However, that darkness they put in it that made people desire it, that made even Deathwing grow mad to see it in his possession, that was purely all the Old God's fault. They put that in there. It was never supposed to be there." He sighed. "Thank goodness you destroyed it. But you missed one part."
"What?"
"The chain it had," said Neltharion. "Zaela, the new leader of the Dragonmaw Clan has the chain and she is using it to control my children so they would be their mounts––much like how Nekros used the Dragon Soul on Alexstrasza and her children to enslave them."
"Well, I'm sorry I wasn't thorough in its destruction," said Rhonin. "Believe me, I regretted that when Sinestra took hold of its pieces to create Dargonax. So, now all that is left of the most powerful weapon in the world––a weapon you created––is its chain."
Neltharion sighed: "Believe me, I know life really does suck right now. And Malygos' own weapon could be used against us as well. I have a feeling it's going to be used for this horrible event Nozdormu has foreseen. I don't know if it will be here or Stormwind or anywhere else."
That one sentence tugged at Rhonin. He looked at the Aspect, looking at him as if he was about to deliver some of the worst news in the world. Neltharion tilted his head and scooted closer to his companion, placing a black paw upon Rhonin's thigh.
"Rhonin?"
"I think Nozdormu wasn't the only one who knew this was coming," he began. "Krasus knew too."
"Krasus?" Neltharion asked. "What did Krasus know?"
Rhonin took out a piece of rolled up parchment and slipped the tie off. He handed it over to Neltharion and the dragon took it and gently unrolled it.
"After the red comes the silver," Neltharion began, reading aloud what was written in the finest of handwriting. "She who was golden and bright; the Proud Lady humbled and bitter, Shall now return her thoughts to the fight." He looked at Rhonin. "What is this?"
"Read the rest," said Rhonin.
"Sapphire to diamond she gleams now, the Kirin Tor leader who comes, 'Queen' of a kingdom now fallen, marching to war's martial drums. Be ye warned––the tides of war at last shall break upon the shore."
Neltharion looked up at Rhonin, rolling up the parchment: "Krasus wrote this?"
"Yes," said Rhonin. "It's a prophecy. He foresaw––"
"After the red comes the silver," said Neltharion. "Silver come after red? What?"
Rhonin stood up and took hold of his fiery locks: "What color is my hair?"
"Red," said Neltharion. "The red–-it's talking about you."
"It's talking about Jaina too," said Rhonin. "Neltharion, no matter what you do, Garrosh is going to destroy Theramore! That's the event Nozdormu told you. Krasus has told me too. When Theramore falls, Jaina is going to––she's going to try and destroy the Horde. But eventually after its fall, she will take my place as the new leader of the Kirin Tor."
"Why would she do that?"
"Because, I'm going to die," said Rhonin.
Now, Neltharion had hopped to his feet, craning down to the mage.
"What?"
Rhonin held his hands up, trying to silence the now fuming Earth-Warder. He felt the sand under his feet shift, the ground quaking with Neltharion's own fury. The roar of the sea boomed loudly as heavier waves came crashing down. Rhonin looked out to the sea, seeing that as Neltharion continued to rage on, its swell grew in fervor, the chop foaming upon the surface.
"Tides of war," he said. "A tide you'll make too. Neltharion, I wanted to tell you this because Krasus––Korialstrasz, the Prime Consort of Alexstrasza gave it to me. He wouldn't give me this warning if it didn't mean that perhaps you and I could prevent it. If he knew it was supposed to happen, why tell me? Now that we both know, maybe we can stop it." He took in a deep breath. "That's why I'm here. Even if the Council of Six voted against me, I still would have come because you have to know. And you're the only one who can stop it. Jaina is going to do something horrible if Theramore gets destroyed. The destruction will break her. But if we prevent it, she won't do what Krasus saw her dong."
"What about the Kirin Tor?" asked Neltharion. "Krasus said she would succeed you as their leader. And if Theramore isn't destroyed then she won't do that. She'll still stay here and you'll just go back to Dalaran. So, what made you think Krasus told you so that you could stop that from happening?"
"Neltharion, I don't want to die."
"Rhonin, I don't want you to die either!"
"It's a warning in hopes that we can prevent it."
"I hope it is," said Neltharion. "But the only one who can answer that is Krasus and––I killed him!" He shrank back, folding his wings around his body, shivering. "I'm so sorry, Kori. I didn't mean to. I wish you were here right now. You could make sense of this."
Rhonin walked over and brought his arm around the dragon's back.
"I'm sorry I took your teacher away from you, Rhonin," said Neltharion.
"I know," said Rhonin. "I know."
"Was there a prophesy about me?"
"No," he said. "I think he cannot predict the actions of a being much more powerful than he. If he could, he would have been able to foresee your redemption."
Neltharion rumbled and wrapped both his forelegs around the human mage. Rhonin laughed, his face becoming as red as his hair.
"Believe me, I don't think he could have foreseen this either," he said. "Look, my friend. We'll try our best to make Krasus proud."
"Like hell we will," said Neltharion. "Oh, that Sunreaver guy you brought with you."
"Yes?"
"I think he's a Horde spy."
"What?"
Neltharion let go of him and placed a paw upon his own chest.
"I can sense things about people," he said. "Calia jokes about me being the best lie detector in the world. She's used me a few times to interrogate her prisoners she's captures. I would sit in another room, where they couldn't hear nor see me. Then, as she probed them for questions, I would probe their hearts to see if they are lying."
"I do seem to recall that Deathwing had the ability to manipulate the minds of others and even read if they are being truthful or not," said Rhonin. "I figure that ability is also yours."
"I am the Master of Secrets," said Neltharion. "So far, I haven't lived up to it if Garrosh managed to hide his plans from me. But––telling if someone's lying is still within my power. And seeing if someone had an ulterior motive––they can't hide that from me either. Especially if I'm in the same room as they are."
Rhonin nodded, combing his hands through his hair.
"Alright, I'll keep an eye on him," he said. "But we can't just come out and imprison him without proof that he is. I'll work closely with him and see if anything he does might be suspicious. I'm going to be casting a spell on the gates to help strengthen them, I'll have Thalen join me and I'll watch what spells he's casting."
"Thank you," said Neltharion. "I know you'd believe me if I had an issues with one of your mages."
"I know people don't have much faith in you, Nel," said Rhonin. "But I do. But I do hope you're wrong in this."
Neltharion chuckled: "I do too."
As they started back for the stronghold, Neltharion grinned, feeling Krasus presence. Standing with Rhonin, he knew that somewhere, Krasus was not far behind.