XVII
"Well, at least we know Neltharion is not dead," said Danny as he gazed upon the bleak, ashy landscape.
Thrall looked out among the still, silent, gray plain. He coughed, the ash scratching at his throat. He had a cloth tied to his face, covering his nose and mouth. Kador held a scrap of cloth to his mouth, coughing wetly. The ash stung at his eyes as it continued to fall, clinging upon his eyelashes.
"Midday and it looks like midnight," said Kador.
"The ash cloud is very thick," said Danny. He swerved his scaly head around, grumbling as he heard Kador cough louder. You mortals shouldn't be out in this."
"The as is suffocating," said Thrall. "I can't believe he would do this. I thought we were passed this...passed Deathwing."
"Deathwing didn't do this," said Danny. "Deathwing is flashier than this. Neltharion is using a technique that regulates the climate on Azeroth, it does not destroy Azeroth."
"Regulates the climate?" asked Kador.
The dragon settled down, dipping his head to the tauren.
"Azeroth is a very special planet," he said. "It needs climate regulators in place to keep global temperatures constant. Neltharion's duties involve the climate regulation for live to even be at an advanced stage that it is now. Without it, this planet would only be habitable by simple organisms. But I fear that this eruption could damage the ecosystem, plunge Azeroth into an ice age."
"Ice age?" Thrall asked. "I don't know what that is."
"It is only when temperatures are so cold globally glaciers form," he replied. "It won't destroy the world, but it will make life harder for creatures like yourself."
"He could use this as a weapon."
"You think he would," said Danny. "But then, you don't know Deathwing. That flashy show f what you call the Cataclysm was never Deathwing's style...it was Deathwing's desperation. He was losing control and he became desperate. I'd be more worried about Neltharion if he didn't do this as a means to release his anger and grief and distraught."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Holding those emotions in. That is what destroyed his sanity, Go'el. That is what fed Deathwing."
"But he does this at the expense of many lives," said Thrall. "This ash cloud will kill thousands whether they were responsible for Theramore or not. It will hurt the Alliance and the Horde."
Danny rumbled a sigh: "You don't understand. If you don't want this to happen, don't upset the Aspect whose powers run on raw emotion."
Thrall stepped forward, pulling down the cloth from his mouth, looking upon the dragon with stark cold blue eyes.
"Then perhaps you should tell him don't put himself into such a vulnerable position. Like an invasion launching point for the Alliance. If he had lived anywhere else, this never would have happened!"
"Where else was he supposed to go?" asked Danny. "Northrend? To live with Alexstrasza? Mount Hyjal with Ysera? Where was he supposed to go when there was always a threat of someone thinking he is Deathwing and attempting to either kill him or kill his flight that went with him. Because of what Deathwing had done, there was no place safe for us. Theramore was the only place where its ruler was willing to tolerate our presence. No other place. And Neltharion didn't want to live in a land of ice, or be stuck in places he was not welcomed. We thought at least friendship with you could help with some of that relationship with the Horde. But you didn't and this happened!"
"He should have stayed with us and the Earthen Ring," said Thrall.
"He should have done a lot of things," said Danny. "And the time for shoulda, coulda, woulda has long passed. I may not be able to hear his song, but I can feel his distraught. My lord doesn't need a lecture, he needs time to grief, he needs emotional support. Then he can reflect with a calm mind of what should have been. Right now, Neltharion is raw emotion...if you hope to talk him down out of this rage, choose your words wisely."
Thrall looked out over the broken plains. Here, the battle between Neltharion and Garrosh had happened. The plains were shattered, uneven, some open wounds of the world still fumed with fiery light. He could feel the twisting knots of the world bunch up under the soil and ash, a shiver and a crack and a baleful howl from the ash cloud above. The howl pricked his heart and he felt weak in the knees, his eyes stinging with tears of grief and pained sorrow and rage...sorrow for what was lost and rage for the one responsible. The fragment of Neltharion which bonded them since that day the orc shaman faced Dargonax clutched at his heart. Neltharion's pain and anguish was becoming his own as the dragon's emotions drowned Thrall's mind.
You took what was dear to me! Now suffer for every single one of those lives you stole. As I suffer, so will you until you come forth and accept your punishment.
"This land will suffer until his spirit is put at ease," said Danny. "He's in pain, World Shaman. But even I know that this is not how he should deal with the pain."
"Neltharion once told me he feared that Garrosh would become another Queen Azshara," said Thrall.
"Neltharion blames himself for never acting upon the Night Elves ten thousand years ago,"said Danny. "His inaction helped break the continent of Old Kalimdor apart. Neltharion doesn't want that to happen again."
"Do you know where Neltharion is heading, then?" Thrall asked the black dragon.
"Durotar," replied Danny. "To punish the guilty."
"Then," said the orc. "I will go to Durotar."
He adjusted his hood and tightened the bandana around his face, pulling the beige, ashy cloth over his pointed nose. Thrall coughed again, the ash making the air sticky thick.
"Do you want me to fly you there?" Danny asked.
"No," said Thrall. "I can take care of myself, thank you."
The black dragon lowered down to allow Kador to mount upon his neck.
"The ash," said the tauren. "What about the ash?"
"The Earth Mother will protect me," said thrall. Then, his body shimmered in the thick gray haze. He bent over and his form stretched, becoming a glowing beam of light. His body shed its orc form, transforming into a ghostly wolf. The wolf howled and padded off, kicking up puffs of ash with his feet.
Dannathion took off with a down beat of his wings.
§§§
The sky was bright, vivid blue, only a couple of fluffy white clouds lazily passing over the bustling city of Orgrimmar. The whole city was out in the Valley of Strength, cheering for the triumphant warriors' return home. Though, in all the ruckus, they took no notice to the southern horizon. A black cloud loomed over the Northern Barrens. The rusty banded rock ledge of the canyon obscured the view of the south and the cloud that still crept its way towards Durotar, driven by the Great Black Dragon Aspect and his rage fueled by revenge. Though the cloud and the dragon have not left the minds of the warriors who made a desperate jump to escape the raging Aspect. They were doused with ash, coughing and sputtering. There were men and women coming back on stretchers, badly burned. Soldiers desperately tried to shake out the ash from their hair.
Garrosh looked upon his men with stern eyes as he rode in through the gates of Orgrimmar. Though hearing the cheers of the masses put him into a better mood and his chest puffed out, his mighty pectoral muscles bulging through the armor and the sun gleamed off of the tusks of the fallen pit lord Mannoroth, which he bore upon his shoulders. He unsheathed Gorehowl and raised it to the sky, the cheers from the crowd swelled louder.
"Cheer for the returning, conquering heroes!" he bellowed among the crowd. Garrosh stood tall in his saddle, peering out before the swells of cheers and calls of honor.
"Glory to the Horde! Glory to the Horde!" he heard them chant loudly.
Their cheers were so loud, it was enough to case Nefarian's head to shake upon the pike it was skewered upon.
He looked behind him to his warriors. Some bathed themselves in the cheering masses, with their arms up high, others more somber, keeping beside the wounded. Then, once more, there was Vol'jin and Baine, their expressions stone, halted by keeping eye on the south. They would never let him even enjoy a moment of victory, not with their minds still on the Earth-Warder and his flight towards Durotar. Garrosh backed his wolf up to them.
"Worries about Deathwing again?" he asked.
"You have to tell them," said Baine. "You have to warn them of what's coming for them."
"Don't start."
"There are supplies we need to gather, shelter for the civilians," said Baine. "Maybe an evacuation of the city if need be."
"No."
"He won't stop!" said Vol'jin. "He won't stop until you give yourself up to him. You should have done dhat back in da marsh. Give yourself up honorably and spare da Horde dhis tragedy!"
"Instead, he will spare you and kill all orcs," said Garrosh. He heard them huff in defiance of his accusation. "Don't think I haven't seen what happened back there. I saw him trying to drive a good distance between you and me. Leave me, right? That's what you both were planning on doing, leave me to the dragon! Your safety bought and paid for if you would just leave me to my demise."
"We didn't leave," said Baine.
"But you made no effort to defend your Warchief!"
"What did you expect us to do?" Baine asked. "Die with you?"
"Die for the glory of the Horde, beast," said Garrosh in a savage, guttural growl. "You both should leave Orgrimmar now, go run to your new leader––Deathwing the Destroyer."
"I be runnin' to no one, mon," said Vol'jin. "And he is no leader to me."
"But I am your leader," said Garrosh. "You owe your allegiance to me. You owe your lives to me. And if sacrificing your lives to save mind is what I order you, then you do so, gladly and with honor."
"Honor," said Baine. "Each time I hear that word from you, the word begins to lose all meaning. Especially after what had happened to Theramore." He turned towards the south and the anxiety of waiting for the ash cloud to come raced through his mind. Then, he raised his hands. "People of Orgrimmar! People of Orgrimmar, listen to me! Listen to me!"
"What do you think you're doing?" asked Garrosh.
"He tryin' to save da city," said Vol'jin. "From an angry Aspect whom I am certain ya don't have da power to stop, mon."
"Listen!" called Baine as the crowd began to quieten down. "Garrosh destroyed Theramore!"
"Yes!" said Garrosh. "And it was glorious! A victorious battle for the Horde!"
The crowd cheered again, waving Horde flags.
"No!" Baine said. "No, listen! The Worldmender was there! He tried to stop the bomb. Garrosh believed that he could kill the Dragon Aspect with that horrid weapon. Garrosh used a mana bomb on Theramore, he killed innocent civilians as well as Alliance soldiers. He used molten giants for his victory upon Northwatch."
"They used demons and fel fire," said Garrosh. "The Alliance is no better than the Burning Legion!"
"We all have heard the Earthen Ring say that we must be responsible, we must respect the Earth Mother and never use her children selfishly," said Baine. "If we do not, another Cataclysm could happen, worse than the one that came before. And that is what will happen to us now, to the Horde now! To Orgrimmar now! The Worldmender, commander of the elements themselves, who's body contains the heart of the Earth Mother––he is coming here. He will attack this city for the crimes the Horde has committed against her."
"Don't start with that religious garbage!" said Garrosh. "No more of that fear propaganda. Stuff that tripe down someone else's throat. I will not have it in my city!"
Vol'jin took hold of Baine's arm, pulling the tauren chieftain closer to him.
"Brother," he began. "Dhere's being spiritual and then dhere's being one of those religious nuts. We dealt with dhat the few weeks prior to the Cataclysm."
"And were they right?" asked Baine.
The troll sighed, lowering his head in defeat: "Yes."
"And what's coming for us?"
"A giant dragon who can control da planet," said Vol'jin
"Am I that much of a religious crazy nut?"
"Yes," said Vol'jin. "With or without the vengeful godly dragon who carries with him the heart of our beloved planet."
"Fine, I will keep my mouth shut, but we cannot deny what's heading for us," said Baine. "The Worldmender is coming, why is he coming? Because we were responsible for the destruction of Theramore––more rather, you were responsible, Garrosh Hellscream. So, if you truly are our Warchief, you must take responsibility for what you have done. Your careless actions, your headstrong march to conquer all of Kalimdor for the Horde will bring about its destruction. Neltharion was not our enemy, but your actions has made him so. He will destroy us."
"Deathwing couldn't destroy the Horde," said Garrosh.
"Deathwing's attack was sloppy," said Vol'jin. "And as I've heard many times over, Neltharion is not Deathwing. Dhis be different. Deathwing was chaotic, Neltharion is focused. He is very focused, focused on one thing, and he will mow over all others who get in his way. Do you need an example? I can give one. Ironforge. Orgrimmar will become like that city. Neltharion stormed over Ironforge in his focus to bring about da utter destruction of da Twilight's Hammer. Dhey were in his way. Now you have many of dhey numbers in da Horde––da old Shadow Council. You used da powers they received from Deathwing to call those giants, da first insult to da Earth-Warder. Dhen, you destroy his home and family, da second insult. Now, he bring da sickness of Ironforge to Orgrimmar because of you, Hellscream!"
"I have heard enough," said Garrosh. He thrusted his finger towards the gate. "Both of you, out of my city! Now!"
"No arguments there, mon," said Vol'jin. "I don't want to be bleedin' out me on ass anyway. I just hope you don't let anyone else suffer for your arrogance. Orgrimmar needs to be evacuated."
"I will do what I see fit to do to protect my city," said Garrosh. "You worry about your own hides. And once I am done, I may consider your standing with the Horde."
As the two left with those who remained loyal to them, hearing the gate slam shut behind them, Baine once more looked towards the south, noting how much larger the cloud was, how close it was.
"Come on, mon," said Vol'jin. "You can travel with me to da Echo Isles. It be a long way back to Thunder Bluff."
"Thank you, my friend," said Baine.
As they started down, Baine took notice of a wagon being driven by a few orcs. One of the orcs waved him over and he approached with some caution. He had not seen these orcs before. Their wagon had a tarp pulled over, covering whatever it was that it was carrying.
"If you are going to the Echo Isles, may we join you?" the orc asked. "We––don't want to be here when the Earth-Warder comes."
"Who be you?" Vol'jin asked as he guided his raptor towards the orcs.
The gray green skinned smiled, running a hand through his very long, shiny black hair.
"My name is Serinar," he replied.
"Strange name for an orc," said Baine. He noted the strange red eyes that glowed dully under the bushy brows of the orc. "Black dragon."
"What?" asked Vol'jin.
Serinar sighed and then shrugged: "Danny messaged me that you were good at pointing us out, High Chieftain. Yes, I'm a black dragon. We all are."
"Dhen, some of you survived," said Vol'jin. "Some of you––da Earth-Warder's family, the mana bomb didn't kill you."
"It killed plenty," said Serinar. "I was the Keeper of the Dead for the Black Dragonflight, originally assigned to the Dragonshrine where my kin go to die. I mean none of you mortals harm. We just need a safe place for the eggs."
"Eggs?" Baine asked. "Neltharion's eggs?"
"The only three I managed to save," said Serinar. "And I was lucky to have saved them, and these two drakes."
The younger looking orcs dipped their heads in greeting.
"We figured we'd hide in plain sight," said Serinar. "But since Neltharion had tried to open up a friendly channel with the Horde through the likes of yourself, High Chieftain, perhaps you can help us?"
"And what if your lord come lookin' for us?" asked Vol'jin.
"Well, I can vouch for kindness," said Serinar. "If you are willing to help a dragon in need, I can return the favor in making sure my grandfather doesn't add Troll to the dinner menu."
"Grandfather?"
"Lord Neltharion's my grandpa," said Serinar. "Most of us black dragons aren't his sons or daughters, just his grandkids. Most of his sons and daughters are dead, you know. He's my grandpa. And he listens to me––sometimes. But he'll listen to me now, especially when it concerns what remains of the nest. If you help me with the eggs, Neltharion may look upon you as a trusted friend––more than what Thrall's been telling him, Vol'jin. Thrall's words can only go so far with my leader. And actions speak louder."
Vol'jin sighed and then crossed his arms, leaning back against the saddle.
"I don't know how to trust you black dragons," he said.
"I know."
"But Thrall been good to me people," said Vol'jin. "And it be in his name dhat I do dhis. But after dhis, both you and your lord be owin' me a life debt. One slip up, one of you dragons decide dhat we trolls are tasty and I'm kickin' the lot of ya out."
"Actually," began Serinar. "I never like the taste of troll."
"Dhat don't make me feel any better, mon."
"I never ate any of your trolls, Vol'jin. Just the ones I had, I didn't like."
The troll chieftain sighed, wagging his head.
"Alright, come on," he said. "We all be makin' for dhe Echo Isles." He turned back to the encroaching black cloud. "But I don't think we can run fast enough to avoid what's comin' for us."
"Well, then you both are kinda lucky that I studied as a mage," said Serinar. "Once we get a good distance away from Orgrimmar, I can teleport us to the Echo Isles."
"Good enough," said Vol'jin. "Just answer me this question, Serinar. He's only after Garrosh, right?"
Serinar nodded: "Yes, he's only after Garrosh. But many people will perish along the way of his path to get to Garrosh. Including those inside of Orgrimmar."
"All me trolls have been kicked out of dhat city," said Vol'jin. "When once we stood proudly beside Thrall, and me in his keep along side Cairne Bloodhoof. Dhen he made Garrosh Warchief and da brown orc kicked me people into the slums and then back to our home. Only what he considers loyal to him stay in Orgrimmar––mostly orcs. Though, I have a deep passion to take Orgrimmar back, take da Horde back for its people. Take it back for Thrall."
"We all want Thrall back," said Baine.
"I know, mon."
Vol'jin looked sorrowfully back towards the iron, spiked gate of Orgrimmar. The completed wall of iron spikes turned the city into a sinister fortress. Horde flags swung in the wind. He could hear again the people cheering, acting as if all that Baine had warned them was nothing more than a joke. Once more, they cheered for the one who could very well doom all of them.
"It isn't even Orgrimmar anymore," said Vol'jin. "Not the one I knew. If Neltharion plans on attacking da city, dhen dhat ugly wall should be da first to be torn down."
"I don't know what he plans on doing," said Serinar. "For some strange reason, I can't sense him. I can feel his anguish, his rage, but I can't sense him. The mana bomb, I believe it has something to do with it. I just hope the affect is temporary. I miss his song. It was the only thing that kept us cured black dragons from falling back into the Old God madness."
"Let's go, mon," said the troll. "I'm missin' my home."
§§§
"The news from Kalimdor say the sky is blacker than night in the Barrens," said King Genn Greymane. "And the volcano that just erupted from the Dustwallow Marsh keeps putting out more and more ash. I've never seen something like this before."
"The ash cloud covers most of the Barrens now," said Boll. "And it keeps heading north towards Orgrimmar." The Night Elf wiped his mouth and cleared his throat. "The last time I saw something as horrible as this was ten thousand years ago––when Deathwing took his first step forward as a betrayer. He commanded the land that we were battling upon––fighting against the Burning Legion––he commanded it to open up, spewing lava and ash."
Varian lowered his head into his hands as he rested his elbows upon the map table.
"I knew he couldn't keep his true colors from showing for long," he said. "Deathwing––he will always be Deathwing."
"Father," said Anduin. "No. If Neltharion was acting like Deathwing, wouldn't he be attack us as well? No, this is because of Theramore. You remember how furious Jaina was when she came here. She wanted nothing more than to take Orgrimmar––destroy it all because of what Garrosh did. Neltharion is probably wanting the same thing, but the difference between the two is he has the power to pull it off where as she does not."
"Our problem with the ash cloud is what it could mean for our ships once we decide to begin our move against the blockade," said Greymane. Genn Greymane, king of Gilneas and the worgen was in his human form for this meeting. "Not to mention our own airships."
"Yes," said Kurdran Wildhammer. "One of our airships tried to fly into the ash cloud to follow its path––perhaps see where the Earth-Warder is inside of it––they radioed back that their engines were being clogged, the propellers stalled. They dropped right out of the sky. Volcanic ash has a nasty effect on mechanical things."
"Though it leaves most of us to wonder if the sickness is traveling along with that cloud," said Thargas Anvilmar. "If it is just an ordinary ash cloud, or––"
"We can't forget what happened when Blackrock Mountain erupted, spewing its ash as that monster rose up from its crater and blanketed Ironforge with fire and smoke!" said Dark Iron Dwarf Durkan. "Aside from the collateral damage, the sickness that it brought with it stole countless lives. Orgrimmar will face the same."
"Better Orgrimmar than us," said Boll.
The Night Elf was granted many approving and agreeing murmurs from the gathered council. The dwarves were still very somber over the sickness Neltharion brought with him as he charged for the Twilight Highlands nearly six months ago. Anduin wagged his head in dismay over how ready the dwarves were to strike Neltharion down for a honest mistake. Though the prince knew the Earth-Warder had harmed many when he flew over Ironforge, he also knew in his heart that the dragon was remorseful over it. Neltharion was not aware of the dangers the strange ash cloud that came from his wings brought, though he believed that perhaps he could help the sick as a means to repay the damage he had caused by his carelessness. However, the dwarves did not want the Aspect to fly anywhere near Ironforge ever again, even if it was an attempt to cure them of the sickness. Neltharion was never given the chance to make up and take responsibility for what he had done.
"Father," Anduin began. "They're both are hurting and they're both are angry. Jaina and Neltharion. Even you know what that feels like."
"I do," said Varian. "More than you know, my son."
"Theramore was the only city that accepted Neltharion," said Anduin. "The people that died there were his family––not just the dragons in the marsh, but everyone who lived there. Jaina and Neltharion cared for them." He looked to the others. "Jaina said Neltharion attempted to peacefully stop the Horde from attacking Theramore, to stop the bomb from destroying it."
"It would be an insult to the people who lost their lives there if not one person that survived didn't lift a hand in protest," said Taluun. "Especially after such a device was used so––viciously. Though I do not condone the Earth-Warder's methods in this, but I understand why he is doing it as much as I would understand what drives Lady Jaina Proudmoore in her quest for even many of my own people felt the same way about the orcs who slaughtered them one after another." The Draenei puckered his thin, lavender lips together. "Though we can only pray that both are not lost to the Light yet as they tread down this dark path of vengeance. Our Prophet Velen has taken a keen interest in the Earth-Warder since his––curing of the dark corruption that plagued him and his kindred. He has some unique healing talents that the Ageless One would rather see not lost yet."
A strange combination of the spiritual power of the Light connected to the elemental force of the planet of Azeroth, thought Anduin when he took note of Taluun's comment regarding Velen's interests in Neltharion. He recalled witnessing it himself only a couple weeks after Neltharion and Calia returned to Theramore and when Nobundo had summoned the Earth-Warder to Azuremyst Isles. Upon witnessing Neltharion first hand use this strange healing technique with water and spiritual essence upon a few sick Draenei and the color and look of the water's glow as he performed it, Velen speculated if there was some relationship between the Light and the elemental energies of Azeroth. The Prophet could feel the glow of the Light from the water as he watched Neltharion whipped it around the sick to heal them. Velen called it Light Water and then said it was the first time an Aspect has taught him a deeper understanding for the Light. Then Anduin looked to Dwarves, his eyes focusing upon each one. If only they would give Lord Neltharion a chance to right his wrongs––he could heal their sick as his penance over harming them.
"They share the war we fight every day," Anduin recalled Velen saying to him. "I never knew how intertwined our paths are until I met him. And I saw the One who drove a rift between my brother Kil'Jaeden and I in his eyes––but not the darkness that corrupted him––but a glimmer of light of what he once was before and how he was driven into his own despairing path as he fought endlessly with the Legion––until he became like them as well. And I see that upon the Earth-Warder––his voice––his mannerisms––all Sargeras'––all that he once was––I recognized it when I heard it then––as I hear it spoken from the dragon's mouth now. What could have been, what should have been and spoken more true now than the lies spoken then. And perhaps I can finally know a little more, understand a little more–– maybe I can help my brother too. Maybe I can save them too. Maybe, Anduin, it is not too late for any of them. Knowing a little bit more about Neltharion, I am one step closer to understanding the ones I called family long, long ago. We are truly connected to each other more so than I ever thought before. I am willing to give him a chance for a chance is what everyone needs."
I wish they would give him a chance too, thought Anduin.
Varian stared upon his son as the young prince fell upon his own thoughts. The young prince was one of very few people who defended Neltharion despite the current horrors he had caused trying to save Calia from the Twilight's Hammer. Velen was the other––as strangely as that sounded to the king. But Varian was torn. He did not like Neltharion, mostly because of Deathwing and what Deathwing had done to the Alliance many times before. He did not like Neltharion because of what Neltharion had said to him that day when he rushed off to save Calia, or the days afterwards when he came to ask the king to exonerate the former princess of Lordaeron for her own actions caused by Old God madness. He more than happy to see that Neltharion was returning to Theramore and not darken Stormwind gates again––except for that time where Neltharion decided to go with Calia to visit SI:7.
"Varian, how can we lead a strike to take back Northwatch with that dragon flying around?" asked Greymane. "If the ash cloud is that potent, then––what do we do?"
"Neltharion's own attacks will weaken the Horde's strength," said Boll.
"That's great, but what do we do with it?" Greymane asked. "Even after the ash cloud had dispersed, the water will be contaminated for a good while. We won't be able to grow anything on the land as well––all I'm saying that the Earth-Warder made a huge mistake in venting his rage into the volcano. If he honestly thinks he's doing something for us––he's––"
"He's not thinking," said Varian. "We're dealing with a force greater than our understanding. But even then, Northwatch is still salvageable. And I certainly won't let that fat dragon stand in the way of retaking what belongs to us. And when he runs out of steam, I'll handle him as well."
"Then, how should we strike?" asked Greymane.
"I hope no one would think of this as being too forward," began Boll. "But perhaps a strike on Darkshore first? My people need help. The ash cloud is still a ways south, only in Horde lands. Ashenvale is untouched by it."
"And it would be safer for our ships to travel that route," said Greymane. "And the Horde might think we would move to support Feathermoon first. I say we trip them up and go to Darkshore. We can avoid the ash cloud safely and still beat down the blockade."
He heard the sounds of murmurs again, some approving, some sound rather dismissive to the idea.
"What about attacking Garrosh in his own capital?" asked Varian.
"Madness," said Drukan. "That's where Neltharion and his ash cloud is heading."
"Yes," said Anduin. "That is where Neltharion is heading!"
"Anduin?" asked Varian.
"Why not let the Earth-Warder handle Orgrimmar?" Anduin asked.
Many of them began to rumbled to themselves, arguing over this new idea.
"That dragon's hell-bent on the city's destruction!" said Kurdran.
Varian cocked a crooked eyebrow at the Wildhammer dwarf: "So?"
"So?" he asked. "So? Well––"
"Well what?" Varian asked. He leaned back. It finally dawned upon him. "Well what? I just can't believe I––that fat dragon's got his uses! Anduin! Let him attack Orgrimmar."
"Yes, father," said Anduin.
"Brilliant," said Varian, clapping his hand upon his son's shoulder.
"Let the dragon do all the work for us?" asked Greymane. "But he won't stick around to hold it for us."
"Of course not, sir," said Anduin. "He's a Dragon Aspect, our war is––for lack of a better term––beneath him. He can't concern himself with our struggle against the Horde. He's only attacking the Horde now because his home was destroyed by them."
"But Neltharion can chase them out," said Varian. "He can weaken their defenses and when he's done, we'll move in and take it."
"Again, the ash cloud would pollute the water around Orgrimmar," said Greymane. "It would be hard to hold it without proper supplies."
"We will make due with what we can," said Varian. "They won't expect us to suddenly rush right in after the Earth-Warder has had his little fun in Durotar. They would think that because the ash had polluted the water and the ground––that we wouldn't want it either, we wouldn't bother with it. But we can go there. I want to go there."
The worgen king shook his head, combing his fingers through the golden brown strands.
"The daftest plan I've heard," he said. He looked into Varian's icy blue eyes as the people witnessing this meeting protested to this plan. Then Genn Greymane lifted a hand up. "But they really won't be expecting it. It––might just work."
"But what about my people?" asked Boll. "Darkshore?"
"Oh, but that's a part of the idea," said Varian. "Once the Horde does get wind of what we're doing––their ships will have no choice but to leave Darkshore and perhaps come to the aid of Orgrimmar. They've got a raging mad Dragon Aspect one end and the Alliance bearing down upon them on the other. I know we will succeed in this."
"Very well," said Boll. "If this ruse can get the ships to move away from Darkshore, Night Elven ships will be ready to make their move in and assist on taking Orgrimmar with you."
Varian nodded to the elf.
"Alright," he said. "We are all in agreement to this plan?"
The other leaders and representatives of the Alliance looked to one another an then nodded.
"Alright," said Varian. "Let's make Garrosh Hellscream pay for the atrocity he has done."
"The weapon he had used upon Theramore," began Taluun. "No one should ever wield such power as that. We would lose all connection to the Light if we fall down the same dark path as he."
"And the usage of the molten giants by his Dark Shaman," began the Wildhammer dwarf. "It angers all the elements. With or without Neltharion's own raging vengeance for the deaths in Theramore, we could have ourselves another Cataclysm on our hands––and it will be Garrosh's fault!"
"We must bring Garrosh Hellscream to justice," said Boll. "That I do agree with."
"To Orgrimmar it is, then," said Varian.
"To Orgrimmar!" they all said in agreeing unison.
§§§
It had been a long and hard flight through the ash cloud as he searched for Calia. He could not find her, he could not sense her. Though, he could sense Neltharion. Kalecgos banked off when he spied the enormous Great Black flying below the cloud as he slowly came upon the boarders of Durotar. He had an idea, something to steer the Earth-Warder off this destructive path. Kalecgos made his dive from the cloud, swinging around above the metallic armor of the Black Dragon. He was happy to find the Earth-Warder alive, but fearful of what he may do. Then, he saw the change in Neltharion's appearance. Kalecgos saw the white streaks in Neltharion's beard, the glowing blue-white eyes that Jaina also sported, a strange after effect from the Mana Bomb. Though, Neltharion had took on the major brunt of the blast of the bomb itself, its arcane energies permeated his scales. Kalecgos could feel that energy radiating from the Black Dragon, and the strange song he spoke about struck a sour chord.
"Neltharion!" Kalecgos called.
Neltharion turned his head to the Blue Dragon, his expression frozen in a twisted mixture of grief and anger. Kalecgos could see the lines of dried tears upon the Earth-Warder's face.
"Neltharion!" he called again. "Wait! Wait!"
Neltharion's nostrils smoked, but he did not slow his flight path, not even to chase the Young Spell-Weaver away with a spray of lava.
"Neltharion!"
"I heard you the first time, Kalec," the Black Dragon said, his voice booming above the thunder from the cloud. "Leave me alone."
"I––I just want to know what happened," said Kalecgos.
"My flight is dead, my human friends are dead, my wife is dead, and my city was destroyed," said Neltharion. "What do you think happened?"
"Not everyone died in the blast," said Kalecgos. "Jaina is still alive."
Neltharion slowed and he banked off, circling around the Great Blue. Kalecgos followed him with his eyes. Then, the Black landed upon the ground and he followed. Kalecgos looked upon Neltharion's body, noting the damage the Black Dragon received from the mana bomb. There were a few rips here and there, exposing the glowing molten core and its terrible heat. Steam rose up from those open fissures along the dragon's scales. Just for a brief instance, Neltharion almost looked like Deathwing. Kalecgos swallowed, looking fearfully into the Black Dragon's eyes.
"Jaina is alive?" Neltharion asked.
"Yes," said Kalecgos. "She is. She––she took the Focusing Iris. She bent upon Orgrimmar's destruction. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen to me. I see that the mana bomb not only affected her, but you as well."
"Affected?" Neltharion asked.
"Your white streaks," said Kalecgos. "And the eyes. And your body looks––more swollen than it did before. I can only suspect the reason for that is Garrosh knew you would dive for the bomb. The mana bomb's effects steals energy from various sources to add to its power and then throws it back to them. Garrosh's bomb must have drained some of your own energy and your body is swiftly replenishing––making you swell again. You've got rips along your arms and on your chest again."
"And Jaina?"
"Her hair is completely white," said Kalecgos. "There's a single golden lock left at the front of her hair. And her eyes glow like yours."
"Her hair is white?" Neltharion asked. "After the red comes the silver..."
"What?"
The Black Aspect shook his head, catching himself in his thought as he recalled what Rhonin had told him.
"It's nothing," he said. "Where is Jaina now?"
"One of my guesses would be Stormwind," said Kalecgos. "Trying to get help in taking Orgrimmar. She wants to destroy it. I'm guessing you want the same."
The Black Dragon's great chest heaved and swelled as he took in a deep breath, and Kalecgos could see the glowing cracks under the scales. The glow pulsed just slightly with the beat of Neltharion's heart.
"Well," Kalecgos began. "If she's not there, then she may be in Dalaran trying to get help from the Kirin Tor. I mean after what happened with Rhonin––"
"Rhonin––" Neltharion said with an airy breath. His voice cracked into a sob and tears flowed freely from his eyes. "Rhonin––" He dipped his head, closing his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Rhonin. I'm so sorry, Krasus. I failed you both."
Kalecgos stepped closer to him, wanting to reach out. But then, he felt the heat coming from the Black Dragon's body and his claw snatched away.
"You need to cool down," he said.
"Cool down?" Neltharion asked, his mind suddenly snapping for a brief moment out of its rage.
"Your body, I mean," said Kalecgos. "Maybe a cool dip in the ocean will help you collect your thoughts." He looked up. "This––this isn't right, what you're doing."
"What else is there?" Neltharion asked, wiping an eye. "That bastard hurt me! He hurt my family. He––my wife––Calia––I will destroy his species for taking her away fro me!"
"You don't know if Calia is dead," said Kalecgos. "She went with Shandris Feathermoon. Maybe they were far enough away from the bomb not to be affected."
Neltharion growled and the ground began to tremble. Kalecgos heard the ground crack open as scolding hot gasses vented with a mighty hiss through the hole. He smelled the stench of sulfur from the fissures and he leapt away. His heart thumped in its chest as another vent opened up.
"Neltharion!" he called. "Stop it!"
The Black Dragon wagged his head.
"I can't," he said. "I can't." The rocks buckled beneath his feet. "I can't feel Calia. I don't sense her! She's dead."
"No," said Kalecgos. "The mana bomb had some strange affect on you. Maybe it's blocking your connection with Calia. It's blocking your senses."
"Then, where is she?"
"I don't know," said Kalecgos. "But––maybe instead of making Garrosh pay for what he did back in Theramore, you should go find Calia. I'm sure you'll feel a lot better if you find her."
"And what if I find a corpse instead?"
"Then––then––drown Orgrimmar in hot lava," replied Kalecgos. "But find Calia first."
Neltharion paused to think. He wanted to find Calia, he wanted to so much to find her.
But Calia is dead. You will find nothing more than a corpse. Better you use this time wisely and destroy Orgrimmar instead. Then you can find your pretty corpse bride.
That sickeningly sweet voice filled Neltharion's heart with dread. He snorted ash from his nostrils.
"I will destroy Orgrimmar," he said. "I can find Calia later."
"No!" said Kalecgos.
"But if Jaina is alive," began Neltharion. "And wants to destroy Orgrimmar, perhaps I should help her?"
"No to that either!"
Neltharion rose upon his feet and spread his massive wings.
"Thank you for telling me this, Little Kalec," he said. "My ash cloud will cloak Durotar in perpetual twilight––the last they will ever see. And then, I will return with Jaina Proudmoore and we both can deliver the death blow upon that filthy, mongrel city once and for all. I shall not take the glory of its destruction for myself. Jaina has a right to its destruction as much as I do. It's better to share, isn't it?"
Then, with one mighty leap into the air, the Black Dragon took to the skies. Kalecgos' heart sank as he watched the Earth-Warder bounded off towards Northrend. His head lowered and he sighed.
"Malygos, I've made a horrible mess," he said. "Haven't I?"
Indeed––you have, said a rather weak voice inside of his mind. Kalecgos lifted his head up, his eyes wide and his heart leapt into his throat.
"Malygos?"