IXX

Frey Island was burning. Billowing black smoke obscured the horizon as the flames licked out from the galleon docked at the shore. Under the hardening, molten, hot rock were the ashes of the dead, the pirates that once lived on this island just off shore of Ratchet. The mast creaked and fell into the sheet of shimmering heat. The smell of ash drowning out the scent of burnt flesh. The ground shifted and buckled as Neltharion moved his immense weight. His enormous talons scraped the ground in long, deep gashes as he surveyed the enflamed, destroyed pirate outpost. Beside his right paw was the glassy lens of the Focusing Iris. Between his paws, was Lady Jaina Proudmoore.

She felt a chill crawl up her spine as the hot wind brush against her cloak. She craned her head up to see the Black Aspect just as he leaned back upon his haunches, lifting the lens up from the ground. Neltharion's wings flexed and he heard the joints pop. He looked down as Jaina backed herself up to get a more comfortable view of him.

"Alright, so, what's the plan?" Neltharion asked.

Jaina pulled out a book from her satchel and laid it upon the ground.

"Antonidas had discovered an interesting fact about the Focusing Iris," said Jaina. "When I was at the library in Dalaran, I was looking up his work. He said Malygos was finding ways to control elementals. The Focusing Iris is one of those methods he was using."

"Malygos was trying to control elementals?" Neltharion asked. "Why? That's––that's my job. I control elementals––well control as in keep jailed so they won't screw with the natural order of things." He lifted the Iris, looking upon its sparkling surface. "Some elementals like me, some of them don't. The Elemental Lords especially do not. Malygos was trying to control them."

"Perhaps another means to control us?" Jaina asked. "I know he's your brother, and you love him––and you believe he had the right idea––that we mortals are trouble––"

Neltharion wagged his head: "I––I didn't want to control mortals, just make sure they too didn't upset the natural order of things. Jaina, this planet is very fragile, more so than you mortals realize. Just one nudge in the wrong direction in any of the forces we Aspects are linked to can spell out disaster. Malygos trying to take away your magic wasn't a means of control like you think. He was––keeping the dampening field strong because the more you use the magic, the easier it is for the demons to find us. The Well was the giant bullseye on this world and with it's destruction, we have a better chance of protecting this world. But using magic for more than simplicity––it creates a new bullseye. Too many people using powerful magical spells is dangerous. If mortals want to protect this world, sometimes, you have to keep low––stay in the shadows. Just a little while longer––until we are ready to truly face them."

Jaina sighed, lowering her head.

"I'm––I'm sorry," she said.

"Malygos' was the Kirin Tor, mine was Azshara and her Highbourne," said Neltharion. "And our arrogance is that we never told the truth. If we would just say something to mortals we can trust, well, this wouldn't need to happen. The Nexus War, the Well of Eternity, none of it. It's our mistake, my mistake, his. And not the mortals. You are innocent in this."

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, Garrosh is no innocent."

"No, he isn't," said Neltharion. "He knows full well of what he's doing and he is still willing to do it. It's not even madness. Deathwing was madness, but this isn't. Malygos trying to control elementals, that's something I still don't understand."

"He never told you?" Jaina asked.

"No, not even his spirit said anything about this," said Neltharion as he stared blankly upon the Iris. "Well, so what did you want to do with it?"

"Create a massive wave and flood all of Durotar," said Jaina. "I was going to use it to conjure water elementals to aid me in creating this wave. But now that I have you here––you could do it a lot more easily than I ever could."

"You're right, I can. But if I did it, you wouldn't get the honor of destroying Orgrimmar."

Jaina bowed her head: "No. I wouldn't, but I would still get that satisfaction to know it was destroyed utterly. Because I know you can do just that, a lot more than I ever could––my wave ever could. Even if my wave came in and washed away the Horde from Orgrimmar, that city would still stand while mine? Mine's nothing more than a hole in the ground, nothing is left of it." She glanced coldly upon Neltharion. "I want the same for Orgrimmar. And you can do that. Make Garrosh's city a hole in the ground too."

"Apparently that's my specialty," said Neltharion. "Or more rather Deathwing's. But apparently, I'm pretty good at it too with what I did with Garrosh's army march back home. I left twenty out of five thousand alive." He snorted black smoke from his nostrils. "I was playing with him. I wanted him broken, fearing me. He didn't fear me. Everyone else, I wanted to make sure they did not fear me, but him––Garrosh––I wanted him terrified of me. And he's the one person who won't be."

"Well, maybe seeing himself being all walled up in his home will put that fear in him," said Jaina. "He basically waited until we were nice and fortified, sealing ourselves in our own tomb. Well, you can do same for him."

"Yeah, I can," said Neltharion. "And I will." He lowered his head down to her, his glowing blue-white eyes sparking orange. "Are you sure about this? You want me to do this for you."

"Yes," said Jaina. "It's fine, you're not taking anything away from me. You're paying me for back taxes on the longhouse property––and the tunnels."

Neltharion grinned and chuckled softly.

"Thanks," he said.

"You're welcome," said Jaina. "Now, you can pay me back by making Garrosh pay for what he did."

"I will," he said. Then he swiftly rose, turning his neck back around towards Ratchet. Neltharion's lip curled as he let loose a low growl. "I feel––I sense something coming. Someone."

"Who?" Jaina asked.

"It's me," he replied. "I sense––me––a fragment of me." His lips pulled back across his fangs as his tongue licked out. "No, it's Thrall." The dragon's head snapped back towards Jaina. "He's coming for me. He's going to try and stop me."

"Stop both of us, maybe," said Jaina. "I've got an idea. Leave the Focusing Iris here. I'll distract him. I'll create my wave with the elementals, and Thrall will try to stop me. I'll let him. I'll keep him busy while you go for Orgrimmar."

"Alright," said Neltharion. He let the Focusing Iris go and it plopped down upon the blackened grown. "When I'm done, I'll come back to check up on you." He stepped back, unfurling his wings. The Black Dragon dipped his head. "To all those back taxes I owe Theramore's bank."

"Make it count," said Jaina.

The Aspect kicked off swiftly, a thunderous boom herald his exit. Jaina was knocked back from the force, slamming hard upon the ground. She grunted, flattening as the wind pressed against her. The wind died and the ash scattered. Jaina hefted herself from the ground and looked towards the Focusing Iris. She tore the cloak from her shoulder and reached out towards it. Ribbons of indigo arcane energy spread out from her fingers, caressing the surface. Cool air whipped around her as she heard the sound of water rushing behind her. Jaina turned around to see one liquid form rise from the ocean, arms outstretched. Then, another, and another, and another. Golden bands appeared on their wrists, binding them to her will.

"It's working," Jaina whispered.

Then, the elementals coalesced together, forming a massive wall of water right behind her. Jaina smiled.

"It is too bad I don't get to use you to destroy Orgrimmar with," she said. "But you still have some usage."

"Jaina, for all of Azeroth's sake, stop this now!" bellowed a voice from behind her. Jaina froze and smiled.

"Right on cue," she softly whispered. Then, she finally addressed him. "Thrall."

"Jaina," said Thrall. "Jaina, please. Don't do this." He held out his muscular arms. "My heart is light with the happiness and relief you are safe, my old friend. That you didn't perish."

Old friend. Jaina frowned, they could not be friends anymore.

"No, I didn't perish," she replied.

"Good," said Thrall. "Please, let them go. Let the elementals go. If you really are a friend of Neltharion's you would let them go."

"Neltharion gave me permission to use them," said Jaina. "He has agreed to back away from his own attack to make way for mine. One way or another, either of us will destroy Orgrimmar. We will make that orc pay for what he did."

"Where is Neltharion?"

"Not really your concern anymore," she replied. "I'm the one with the big wave made of water elementals."

"Yes," said Thrall. "I realize that. What you are doing is making a big mistake. Don't blacken your conscience with this travesty. Don't let the deaths of innocents be on your hands."

"Innocents?" Jaina asked, her voice curling into a raging shout. "You dare speak to me about innocents when the innocents in Theramore were destroyed by him? Who are you to say that?"

"Jaina," said Thrall. "I was heavy with grief when I learned the news of Garrosh's––horrid and malicious attack upon your city. And I still am. What he did was wrong."

"You grieve," Jaina said. "You? Yes, what he did was wrong and I am answering in kind. He deserves this. But you. You were the one who put him on that throne. You left the Horde and you replaced your gracious rulership with his mania! So, I lay every innocent's death that happened in Theramore at your feet, Thrall!" Her glowing eyes continued to flash brightly. "The Cataclysm is over, you could have returned as Warchief. But you didn't. You kept that war-mongering oaf on your throne. If you had stayed as Warchief, none of this would have happened!"

"You blame me for Theramore's destruction because of my higher calling?" Thrall asked.

"Yes!"

"Then blame me!" the orc thumped upon his chest. "Blame me! The Ancestors know I blame myself for this as well! I hoped that––that Garrosh would have been the honorable warrior his father was, who knew the cost of power when one grows too fat from it. I found Grom Hellscream, he was the battled shell of an orc, weary and ashamed for the deaths he caused while under the maddened haze of Mannoroth's blood. I gave him a chance to right all that wrong, with his death he did. I hoped I would give the same chance to Garrosh. Yes, it is my fault for feeding Garrosh the stories of the Horde of old, and that he didn't understand the New Horde's existence. Blame me, then, Jaina. But please, leave my people out of this!"

"I cannot call them people anymore," she said. "It was no demon blood that drove Garrosh to order such a slaughter. He did this on his own. You freed the orcs from that taint, but it seems they've always been the rabid dogs just as they were when they drunk it!" She pointed a sharp nail at Thrall. "And you made me believe that there could be peace. You tricked me! You softened me up!"

"No!"

"You made me believe the orcs weren't the barbarians we thought they were," she said. "But, no, it's only you. You're the one who's different. They haven't changed. And they have the Warchief they want, not a lover of piece, but a murderer of children! I will destroy the city named for Orgrim Doomhammer in the land named for your father Durotan!"

"Jaina!" Thrall called, his brow raised in horror as the wave began to move. "Please, don't!"

Jaina raised her hands and then folded them forward, and the wave surged forth. The elementals did not squeal in pain as Thrall thought they would, they obeyed willingly. The shaman called out, holding his hands up to the sky as a whirl of wind flowed around him. He urged it forth, sending it spiraling towards the wave. The wind extended out like a hand and gripped the wave, holding it in its place. Water sprayed off the surface.

Thrall looked towards Jaina who's left hand was out, chaneling the energy from Focusing Iris. Now in the hands of a master mage, he was fighting against that force.

"You are not going to stop me," said Jaina as she sensed his fight against her wave.

"A piece of Neltharion is inside of me," said Thrall. "A piece of the Earth-Warder is in me. That makes me in a way––him." He looked to the wave. "I speak as the Earth-Warder! Spirits of Water, I command that you fall back and be at rest!"

"If a piece of the Earth-Warder is in you," said Jaina. "Then he would be fighting against you! He feels the same pain as I do."

Thrall focused his mind to the wind, ignoring Jaina. Then, he felt a glow of heat well up inside of his chest. His heart was on fire. Thrall's arm dropped, its weight greater than he could lift. The wind died.

"See what I mean?" Jaina asked as Thrall fell to his knees. "The power you were able to wield during the Cataclysm––it was Neltharion's power, right? He's taking it back! He doesn't want you to stop me either."

"I see, Jaina," he said. "I see that both of you are broken, in pain. But this won't end the pain. It'll only cause more." He looked up at the wave. "He may have taken the power he gave me, but I was a shaman before I heard the voice of Khaz'Goroth."

He reached out again, calling for the wind to hold fast the wave.

"Release the wind, Thrall!" said Jaina.

"No."

Release us. We do as the true Earth-Warder bids.

The wind whipped back around and with a snap, knocked Thrall back down onto the ground.

Do not interfere.

"This is what he wants?" Thrall asked, his eyes turning up at Jaina. "This can't be. You'll be killing children, the future."

"They will grow up to hate us," said Jaina. "As Garrosh continues to poison their minds. I'm giving them a merciful death."

"This is not mercy, it's madness! I know what Garrosh did to you, but don't fight him on his own terms like this. Don't become a monster like him. Do you honestly think that destroying Orgrimmar will bring back the dead of Theramore?"

"I'm not so gullible," said Jaina. "I––betrayed my own father to help the very Horde that only could thank me with the destruction of my home, my family, my people! We didn't deserve this."

"You don't deserve this?" Thrall asked.

"Theramore didn't deserve what Garrosh did to us!"

Thrall wagged his head: "No, I agree that his methods brought dishonor to the Horde, but to outright state that Theramore didn't deserve the siege when you've opened yourself up for it. You can't question that this wouldn't be coming in the first place, especially not with Varian deciding to make Theramore his ground for the Alliance invasion of Kalimdor. It was not right for Garrosh to use such a weapon, but the siege, you truly brought that upon yourself."

"No I didn't," said Jaina. "I wanted peace between Theramore and the Horde!"

"While opening your ports so Varian could continue his war," said Thrall. "Who fooled whom now?"

"That is completely unfair of you to even blame me!" said Jaina.

"I'm not blaming," said Thrall. "I'm trying to get you to realize the truth. Despite what Garrosh did, you cannot deny what you did to make yourself a target."

Jaina lowered her arm and the wave paused. She turned to him and took in a deep breath, her hands igniting with fire.

"I've had enough," she said. "And you will not lay the deaths of thousands upon my shoulder because that I decided to show some loyalty to my king!"

She was ready to strike, ready to render this being who was once her friend to ash. As Jaina tossed the fireballs towards Thrall, a blue figure rushed between them, much bigger than both of them. The flames impacted upon azure scales as the huge reptilian creature shielded Thrall from her attack.

"Kalecgos!" she called.

"Jaina!" the Blue Aspect began as he swung his crystalline spiked head to her. "Don't!"

"Get out of here, Kalec!" Jaina called to the dragon. "This isn't your fight!"

"It is," said Kalecgos. "Because you are using stolen property that belongs to the Blue Dragonflight. This is as much my business as it is Thrall's. The Focusing Iris does not belong to you, nor should it be wielded in such a manner. I made the mistake of allow it to fall into the wrong hands once already, I won't make that mistake again."

"It isn't in the wrong hands," said Jaina. "I'm using it for a just purpose."

"There is no justice in what you do, Jaina! This is vengeance."

"I lost everything back there!" Jaina called. "Everything! You can't possibly––"

"Yes, I can," the dragon said. "More than you ever would believe. I've lost many family members too, most of my species in fact. Wiped out because of Deathwing, the same dragon who decided to make your island his home. We have so very few eggs left. And then I stood by and watched as the Kirin Tor killed the rest as well, all because of Malygos believing that humans wielding magic would destroy this world. There are times when I wonder if I had betrayed my own brothers and sisters because I believed in the hope that not all mortals were vicious and evil. Despite my flight dying by their hands, I held strong to that hope. But I didn't blame the humans, I didn't want to seek out and destroy mortal cities because my brothers and sisters were killed off during the Nexus War. And as difficult as it was for me, I had to learn how to forgive Neltharion's flight––the black dragons who slaughtered many blue dragons, I had to learn how to forgive them."

Jaina dropped her hands, here eyes still fastened to Kalecgos. The Blue Dragon lowered his great head, his sparkling violet eyes became downcast.

"But Neltharion didn't slaughter your kindred," she said.

"If it is true that Neltharion an Deathwing are only two halves of one complete being," Kalecgos began. "Then he is just as responsible for their deaths as the Black Scourge. Crystalsong Forest, the place where Dalaran now hovers over, was a battleground where black and blue dragons fought. Serinar was there, Ruthian, Dannathion, and even Siderion––they were there, and they slaughtered my kin left and right. But I could have been like you, holding a grudge, wanting to make the Black Dragonflight pay for what they did and I would have to live with that forever. Still, as of now, I have a hard time not seeing Neltharion as Deathwing. Deep down, he will always be Deathwing to me. But I must forgive them. Because if I keep dwelling on it, I keep hating them, I am no better than they. The same for you. You are better than Garrosh! I know it hurts and that pain will never go away. But you will grow beyond it. But if you dwell on it, it'll only hurt worse. Is that the way to honor those who died in Theramore?"

Jaina looked away from the dragon. Kalecgos craned his head around to her.

"It's hard to let it all go," he said. "Everyday, I think maybe he should have died, it would make me feel better, wouldn't it? Then, I began to realize that it wouldn't. Even with Neltharion's death, the pain would still linger. Killing Garrosh or leveling Orgrimmar won't make the pain go away, Jaina."

Tears fell from Jaina's eyes as the wave itself fractured. The mass of elementals separated, now all staring up at her, bobbing along the surf. Thrall sighed with relief.

"I won't destroy the city," she said. "But Garrosh still has to pay for what he has done. And he will pay." She stood and looked to Thrall, her eyes cold. "You've stopped me, Thrall, but let's see if you can stop––Neltharion!"

"What?" Thrall asked.

Jaina mustered a weak laugh: "I won't have to destroy Orgrimmar, Neltharion is going to do it for me. And he won't be so easily stopped as I was."

Thrall's heart sank when he realized just what Jaina had done.

"You––distracted me," he said. He turned to Kalecgos. "You have to take me to Orgrimmar!"

§§§

His wings angled out as he circled closer to Razor Hill. To the north by 150 miles was Orgrimmar, its iron, spiked gate shimmering in the low firelight of its torches. Neltharion continued to circle, watching the Horde guards and civilians run and scatter into the caverns below the cliffs. Then, the cliffs quaked and broke, boulders rolling down the sharp rock face and covering the cave openings. Neltharion began his speedy flight towards the city, crossing over Burning Blade within a matter of minutes. Just as Orgrimmar came to full view, something tall rose up from one of the mesas just beyond the wall in the Valley of Strength. A flash of electricity, a horrible thunderous thump, and this strange weapon fired. Neltharion heard the sound of metal whistling loudly as whatever it was was shot at blinding speeds towards him. He banked as swiftly as his huge wings could maneuver. Then, the thing tore right through a membrane of his left wing. Fiery blood splashed from the wing and Neltharion echoed a deafening wail of, screeching, high-pitched agony. Unable to keep aloft, the Earth-Warder plummeted to the ground. The ground itself quaked, fissures splintering through the rock. The gate of Orgrimmar shook and began to buckle from the horrible tremor as hundreds of thousands of tons of dragon slammed into Durotar's ash-covered desert.

Inside, Garrosh Hellscream sat in the control room of Hellscream's Hammer, grinning proudly. This device, built similar to the smaller coil cannons mounted on his experimental electromagnetic-powered airships, was a thousand times more powerful. While their elementium jacketed shells could pierce through the hard scales of ordinary dragons, Garrosh believed that Hellscream's Hammer could very well pierce the impregnable, armored hide of the strongest and most powerful dragon ever known to both Azeroth and Draenor.

"You got him, Warchief!" called Malkorok. "He is down!"

Garrosh's proud smile faded as he saw the black mass of the Earth-Warder rise up to his fours through the holographic screens he stole from the Draenei.

Neltharion growled as he shook himself, rising up. Sharp pain shot through his shoulder as he attempted to flex his left wing. The Black Dragon turned to see the membrane between the third and forth digit completely torn right up to the spread of the fingers. Each time the wind passed through the hole, Neltharion could feel the horrid sting. Droplets of his viscus, molten blood dripped from the wound. The Black Dragon spread his right wing as he reared back and bellowed his thunderous roar.

"I will knock the wall of Orgrimmar down!"

Folding both wings, Neltharion started a charge, galloping as fast as his huge, muscular legs could carry him. The ground quaked under each foot and the iron wall of Orgrimmar started to sway. From inside, Garrosh could feel the vibrations of Neltharion's charge through the steel floor.

"Fire again!" he called to his gunner. "Bring that dragon down!"

Hellscream's Hammer fired once more and the shell impacted upon Neltharion's chest. The collision's force radiated out, the air distorted like the ripple of a pond. What crude shelters that still stood defiantly in Durotar around Dranosh'ar Blockade were now flattened and the occupants who could not evacuate, dead. Neltharion was knocked back, tumbling and skidding across the rusty desert, as, rock and dust clouds rose up around him. He slammed his claw out to the ground, digging long gashes to slow himself. The Black Dragon growled and painfully rose again.

"He's not down!" said Garrosh. "Fire again!"

The gunner turned to his Warchief: "Sir, the dragon is coming dangerously close to Orgrimmar! If I fire at him in such a close proximity, it could severely damage the city! This cannon was built for long range targets."

Neltharion started his charge again, each mile bringing him closer and closer to the gate.

"He's close to Rezlak," said Garrosh. "That's 25 miles away!"

"Warchief, he just traveled nearly 75 miles in just a few minutes," said the gunner.

"Well, the more you waste time complaining, the closer he's gonna get," said Garrosh. "Now, fire!"

The cannon readjusted itself with sounds of cranking gears and loud roar of the motors. Once more, it fired and in seconds, the third shot impacted upon Neltharion's chest. The air rippled as another shockwave spread across the desert plain. The dust rose high, obscuring Neltharion's great form.

"I got him this time!" said Garrosh.

"Wonderful shot," said Malkorok.

As the dust settled, Garrosh's face fell, his mouth gaping open. The Black Dragon still stood. Neltharion was prepared this time, bracing himself against the shell. The dragon stood tall only for a brief second, and then doubled over. On the right side of his chest was a gaping wound and lava erupted forth. His back elementium plates were cracked open as the shell had gone straight through his ribcage and out the other side. Neltharion gasped, the pain spreading through his chest. As his heart pumped, his magmatic blood continued to gush forward. Black Dragon swallowed and rose to his feet again, his determination numbing the irritation of his wound.

"You know that goblin question of what happens when an unstoppable force impacts an immovable object?" the gunner asked. "I think I just found the answer."

"The force is stopped, but the object still remains," said Malkorok. "The object wins."

Garrosh growled: "Fire again!"

"Sir, he's too close," said the gunner. His hands slipped from the controls. "The Earth-Warder is both an immovable object and an unstoppable force. We can't win against something like that."

Neltharion charged again, bending his head down. As the gates came ever so closer, the Black Dragon rammed his head straight through. They buckled and wrinkled like a tablecloth. Sparks flew as the 500-foot high wall was ripped open by the might of the Black Dragon's strength. Neltharion slowed as he leveled his head out, arching his neck. He slammed his tail blade to the wall, and half of it came toppling forward, the towers moaning as they fell to Durotar in a fiery blaze. The banner of the Horde burned along the cliffs. The Black Dragon lifted his head high, rearing back upon his hind legs and steadying himself with his tail. The Earth-Warder bellowed and the rock trembled in response. Cracks ran alongside the surface of the cliff face, spider-webbing out. Another black, spiky, iron tower plunged down into the crumbling chasm.

"Garrosh Hellscream!" Neltharion bellowed. "I have come for your head!"