XX
Thrall looked on with a heavy heart. He beheld the ruined gate, spread wide and wrinkled, crumpled like a dry leaf. He gazed upon the massive Black Dragon as he roared. He clinged to Kalecgos' azure scales as the Blue Aspect brought him to the ground. Neltharion swatted a tall rock formation and roared. Thrall braced himself against the terrible sound, holding his pointed ears tightly with his hands. Kalecgos landed and lowered his neck, allowing the orc to dismount. Then, Jaina followed after him, smiling.
"He does quick work," she said.
"This has to stop!" Thrall called. "Neltharion!"
He shouted as loudly as he could to the dragon who was laying waste to the city he once built. But Neltharion did not hear him.
"Garrosh!" Neltharion roared. "Come out! You hide in your cave like a coward! Let's see how brave you are. Come and face me!"
The dragon bellowed and belched a molten, fiery boulder upon a roof of a store, setting it ablaze. The stretched leather roof toppled, burning easily through. Neltharion heard the screams of his victims, but he did not let them stop him.
"Here I am, destroying your city and you don't want to come out to even stop me!" Neltharion called. As he swung around, his tail slammed thunderously into lodges built along the upper embankment. Rocks showered over the Valley of Strength. Ash rose up in a choking, billowing, sickly gray clouds. A moaning creek and a crash behind as the Aspect of Earth turned to find the half rotted, severed head of his son Nefarian lying on the smooth, rocky ground. He paused in his destruction to slowly lift the head up.
"My son," he said softly.
"And you will join him for this intrusion, Worldbreaker!" called a voice from a high cliff. Coming out from under the twisted metal and broken rock was Garrosh Hellscream.
"Intrusion?" Neltharion asked. "You intruded upon my land! You destroyed my home. Your bomb killed my flight, killed those who I have grown to know as friends. I gave you the chance to stop this, to surrender peacefully and no one would be harmed. You chose this. I have come to repay you for that crime."
"It was you who chose!" said Garrosh, pointed a thick, brown finger at the Great Black. "You, Deathwing. You chose to live in that city. You brought it all upon yourself. I still would have attacked whether or not you were there. You put yourself in the way of my goals. The death of your flight is upon you! It always has been and it always will be."
"And you brought this upon yourself," said Neltharion. "You knew I was there."
"Yes," he said. "I knew. But like I said, whether or not you made Theramore your home, I still would have attacked. Your presence in that city made no different to me."
Neltharion gently set Nefarian's head down and snorted black ash and soot from his nostrils. His eyes were alight with a fiery glow.
"I have grown weary of you, Garrosh," he said. "I am tired of playing by mortal rules. I am here to show you just what all I can do if I so choose it. And there will be nothing you can do to stop me." Neltharion lifted his head and took in a breath. "I will have your head if it means I pop it right off your body. "
As Garrosh began to step forward, he felt something reach inside of him. Gorehowl dropped from his hand as his body froze. Millions upon millions of fingers latched upon every muscle in his body, every vein. He lifted off the ground, suspended by some force that wiggled its way into his bones.
"You think you have power?" Neltharion asked. "Everything you've created was built upon my knowledge. That cannon you built to fire upon me. Your current airships. Your people are so primitive, they have not the skills to create such devices. But I do. I have the skills, I have the knowledge, and you stole it from me. It was never yours to take. And your precious Dragonmaw has something else that also belongs to me. You are leaching my power because you have none of your own!"
Garrosh grunted, hearing something beginning to crack inside of his head.
"Even if I had not decided to make Theramore my home, I still would have done this," said Neltharion. "Just like you still would have attacked Theramore with or without my presence there. Because I would have found out what you stole. And I would be here now to take it back."
"This knowledge is mine by right," said Garrosh, feeling his arms lift and stretch out. "Because I have taken it by force!"
"You will take nothing!" Neltharion bellowed back.
Then, the orc's body contorted, twisting painfully around. Garrosh slammed into the ground as he felt something begin to crush him, pressure agonizingly slamming upon his ribs. The called out, spittle dripping from his thick lips.
"Do something!" he roared. "You cowards! Attack––attack the dragon!"
Neltharion curled his neck, arching as he leaned back to stand proudly. His broad, enveloping wings spread just slightly, casting their tremendous shadow over the Valley of Strength. Guards and warriors, their spears, swords, and guns ready shank back as the darkness of Neltharion's shadow passed over them. They trembled under the shadow as it loomed and chased them into darkness. The Great Black Dragon lifted a thick, fat paw and then slammed it to the ground, the rock splitting underneath. Warriors fell as the earth split open. Most of them, as fear froze them, could not muster the strength to rise again.
"Go right ahead," said Neltharion. "Attack me. See what happens when you do."
What warriors were brave enough, lunged, their war cries great and proud. As they slammed upon his great foot, their weapons snapped in two. Orcs fell upon his scales and a cry of agony followed. He could hear their bones snap with the force of their charge. Then, Neltharion slowly roved his head back to Garrosh, and a smile spread across his lips.
"I can stand here all I want," he said. "And there will be nothing you can do about it." He stepped forward, his left paw slamming upon the ground, not even taking care to look if there were orcs in the way. And if there were, they were soon squished into jelly. "Now see who's powerless to stop whom? Eh? Come on, Garrosh, I am calling you out now like you called me out. And I intend not to hold back. So, stop me. Try and stop me."
Garrosh grind his hands upon the neck of Gorehowl, his palms becoming rough and raw. His heart thumped in his chest. His yellow eyes wide. Neltharion chuckled.
"There's the look," he said. "Now I have your fear."
The brown-skinned orc swallowed as the dragon leaned closer to him, his jaws filling Garrosh's vision. He could not see anything else but the fangs of the Earth-Warder.
"I am going to eat you," Neltharion said with a soft, yet stinging whisper. "And this time, I shall be sure to chew thoroughly. I want to make sure not even your bones are left between my teeth."
"And why would you do such a thing?" Garrosh asked. "That's a little off for a dragon who wants everyone to be friends with him. You kill me, the Horde will curse your name!"
"You've given me a reason to not care anymore," said Neltharion. "Perhaps I was right all along about mortals over ten thousand years ago. Perhaps you are trouble and must be controlled by those superior than you. Because clearly you can't handle yourselves or you would have taken my offer in Theramore. And none of this would have happened. Blame yourself for the deaths of your people. I am the Earth-Warder, I was created to protect the world from those who threaten it. Right now, that be you, Hellscream. Your death may harm any relationship I wanted with the Horde, but only because their minds have been so fouled by propaganda. I am a creature who is immortal, I can wait for the day when they finally forget about someone like you."
"I will chop off your tongue if you dare devour me!"
The Black Dragon chuckled: "I hope you fight all the way down, to the very end, Garrosh. So, here we are, again. You didn't give me much of a choice, and neither am I to you." His jaws parted as his pink tongue rolled out between his fangs. Embrace your fate, Garrosh Hellscream.
Neltharion felt something pelt against his cheek, breaking upon his scales. Rocky dust clouded his eyes. Slowly he turned, a heated sneer crept through his lips. Below him, right at his feet, stood Thrall. The Great Black shifted, backing just slightly so he could get a better view of the orc who so dared to toss a rock at him.
"What is the meaning of this?" he asked.
"Don't do something you will regret," said Thrall. "Don't do this. You are not this."
"Why?" Neltharion asked, dejected by the actions of the orc he named as his brother. "Why, why would you stop me? After all that he has done, why would you stop me?"
"Neltharion," began Thrall. "Please. Harming innocents will not bring all you lost in Theramore back."
"I know. I know it won't. But that will not stop me from doing it. Let me have this, Thrall. Let me have this. Sacrifice one life for the good of thousands."
"You've already sacrificed the thousands just to get to this one man," said Thrall. "How many more will it take just to kill him?"
Neltharion lowered his head, his eyes ablaze with his ire, glowing bright blue-white. His breath quickened, his huge chest heaving. The glowing rips between his scales reopened with his building enmity. Thrall backed from the dragon, raising his hands to his eyes, shielding them as he felt the heat rise around the Black Dragon. It radiated, rippling through the air, distorting everything around him. The glowing rips pulsed with rising intensity.
"Neltharion," said Thrall. "Please, I am asking you to let it go. Let it go."
"And let the Garrosh continue with his evil?" Neltharion asked.
"Yes, go, coward," boomed Garrosh from the iron-grated ledge. "Go with your tail between your legs. You are soft, you slothful fat, dolt."
Thall snapped to Garrosh Hellscream as he heard Neltharion's deep thrumming changed its pitch.
"You are not helping!" Thrall shouted. "I am trying to save Orgrimmar, Garrosh. And for what little thanks I may get from you, I am also trying to save your life as well."
"Oh, please," began Garrosh. "Do try to talk to the Worldbreaker. And maybe after both of you have a good cry after your little bonding moment, you can pick flowers on the way out of my city. Yes, spare the Worldbreaker as you did before. This is all your fault that he is here. Let's see how well you can fix it."
Neltharion rose up, the growl rolling up his lips as he locked his fangs.
"Neltharion!" Thrall called. "No! Don't do this! Is this what the Earth-Warder does? Is destroying cities what the Earth-Warder does?"
The Earth-Warder returned his attention to the green-skinned orc shaman.
"Tell me, Neltharion," he said. "Is this what the Earth-Warder does? Does he do the things Deathwing does?"
"Deathwing?" Neltharion asked with a spat. "I am not Deathwing."
"You are making it hard for me to tell the difference!" said Thrall. "You are making it hard for everyone to tell the difference! You keep saying over and over again that you are not Deathwing. But here you are, doing what he would do. Destroying homes, killing innocent lives that had nothing to do with Theramore! That is what Deathwing does!"
"You have no idea what the Earth-Warder's job happens to be, so do not presume what it should be," said Neltharion. "The Earth-Warder's position upon this world is not as glamourous as you once perceived. There are things that have to be done, even if they seem like an evil, but they must be done for the greater good." He lifted his head to Garrosh. "Somethings must be done for the protection of this world. Garrosh Hellscream, I cannot allow you to continue on. My duties as the protector of Azeroth comes before any animosity I have towards you. You are a threat to what I hold dear. And if you will not stop here, then I will end you now! Either way, it will end. Your foolish desire of conquest will end." His eyes closed as he took in a deep breath. "I made a mistake ten thousand years ago. I let Azshara go. I didn't act. I didn't do anything until it was too late."
Thrall listened upon Neltharion's words, his eyes widening as they hit hard into his heart. This was something much deeper than Theramore, much deeper than the thought of losing Calia. Thrall finally got the reason behind the destruction of the city he built, the lives Neltharion took.
"Because of my slothfulness," Neltharion continued. "Millions of lives were lost. Much more than what I did here. The sacrifice is worth the price. I failed at my duties then, I should have stopped it before it started. I saw the signs and I did nothing. I see the signs again. I will not stand by and do nothing." His eyes roved back to Thrall. "That's what it means to be the Earth-Warder, Thrall. You think you make the hard choice? You think you can do my job? Huh?" The dragon stepped forward, leaning his enormous head down. Thrall backed up as Neltharion pressed forward, his head coming dangerously close to the shaman. "Come on. Let's see you do it. Let's see you make the tough decisions that may very well threaten friendships and distance neighbors. But in the longer outcome, you know it is for the best. You did what you were supposed to do. Let's see you make that sacrifice, Thrall. Do my job. Do it!"
The Black Dragon growled as Thrall stepped out to look upon Garrosh Hellscream. The Warchief held up his father's axe, resting it upon his broad shoulder. Thrall shifted and peered upon Neltharion again. He shook his head in dismay.
"If you kill me," began Garrosh. "Then you prove yourself fallible, Thrall! You said you were giving the Horde a Warchief you believed it deserved. You truly know nothing of the Horde as it was before Draenor's destruction. I am leading the Horde back to its roots, roots you disregarded when you recreated it. The Horde is about war, the Horde is about conquering the weak, feeding the strong! You are weak, Thrall, son of Durotan. You are weak. You are no orc. You created a Horde of weak-willed, soft bodied vagrants. All they want is peace and love. We want to make nice with the Alliance, when the Alliance should be bowing to us! They should be bowing to us, their betters, their conquerors." His golden eyes fell to Neltharion. "And if you think that killing me will stop the avalanche I have created, then you truly are gullible and stupid, Neltharion! I have sown the seeds of conquest within the hearts of every orc on this miserable planet. Where I fall, another shall take up my axe and continue on. For the Glory of the Horde!"
Neltharion snorted, huffing ash and noxious fumes from his nostrils. Garrosh laughed at his attempt of scaring him, knocking him off his guard.
"Go ahead and kill me," he said. "I am giving you the chance to do it. You've tried twice already and you failed each time. You don't have the heart." The Warchief straightened his back, holding his head high. "I know now that you are no Deathwing. Deathwing would have done it a thousand times over. Deathwing would have done it. No matter how big your body is, you are small, meek, pathetic, weak. You are nothing to me, Earth-Warder."
Neltharion roared, his terrible shrill call deafened the crowd. Garrosh bent down, hearing it ring painfully in his ears.
"Yes, give me your wrath!" Garrosh shouted as loud as he could above the terrible roar of the Aspect. "Give me all of your wrath!"
The citizens down below scattered, most of them crowding towards the north entrance near Azshara. Neltharion bounded forward, his jaws wide. Garrosh could see the glow of the dragon's throat, feeling the horrible heat radiating from the dragon's body. His skin tightened in the heat, his throat scratchy and dry. His eyes were aching as they started to dry out, his tears crusting in the ducts. He knew he was about to die, but he knew he would die an honorable death, facing his enemy head on, never flinching, never running in fear. Garrosh, the son of Grommash Hellscream, was no coward, not even in the face of a creature that was unbeatable. Neltharion could sense the bravery coming off the Warchief as he was about to make the killing snap of his jaws. Garrosh stood strong, chest out, lip tight, chin jutting forth. Then, a streak of blue flashed across the Valley of Strength. Neltharion was knocked down, his massive weight crashing upon Grommash Hold. Despite the tall structure of iron spikes, it broke upon the dragon's scales. Iron snapped like twigs. Neltharion toppled to his size, his left wing fanning out. Garrosh lost his footing, blown by the wind from the Black Dragon's wings. Cracks laced across the rock, the ground trembled. Dust rose obscuring the tangled forms.
Out from the dust, knocked back against the rock wall was a large Blue Dragon with lavender crystals running along his head and back. Kalecgos, the Spell-Weaver rose up from the pile of red-stained rocks, shaking his scales. Neltharion rose from the twisted, mangled mess that was left of Grommash Hold, his eyes glowing brightly. He breathed heavily and his fury rising even more.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he thundered at the Blue Aspect.
"Trying to knock some sense into you, Neltharion," said Kalecgos.
The Black Dragon turned, his tail sweeping across the broken hold, twisted, mangled beams of iron and mortar showered over the paths cut through the long canyon.
"Knocking some sense?" Neltharion asked. "Perhaps I should do the same for you, Little Kalec! Do not trouble with the dragon who can easily break you in half!"
"Then you really are Deathwing," he said. "I have tried to believe that you and Deathwing were two separate beings, one created out of malice, out of hatred, torture and pain, the other, suffering enduring…I tried to see you as something other than Deathwing. I wasn't born before the corruption, I never saw what you were like in the time before the Sundering. All I've ever seen is Deathwing, and I have tried to put it all behind me because Ysera, Alexstrasza, Nozdormu, they've all told me that Neltharion was different. Neltharion wasn't Deathwing. When it finally came to light what happened to you, I tried to forget Deathwing and only focus upon Neltharion. But is wrong! It is not anyone's fault that Theramore happened."
Neltharion growled and pointed a talon toward Garrosh, looking upon Kalecgos through his heavy brows.
"Alright, it is Garrosh's fault," said Kalecgos. "But no more is it Serinar's fault, Ruthian's fault, Siderion's fault…or even your own for the death of Malygos' flight."
Neltharion's fierce expression soften only slightly.
"Do you remember Crystalsong Forest?" Kalecgos asked. "Do you remember what happened? Were you even awake when Deathwing hunted and slaughtered my own people one by one? Did you see Serinar, or Ruthian, or even Siderion doing the same, enjoying themselves while they spilt the blood of my brothers and sisters, friends, cousins, aunts, uncles…my family upon that forest? And yet I am forced by you, by Alexstrasza, by Ysera to not even act upon my own revenge for the atrocity. I was hurting that day, Neltharion! I wept, I cried. I was so young and I didn't understand why, why was another dragonflight killing my own? Were we not supposed to be allies, equals? Malygos' remaining consort, Haleh told us the story about what happened, why the Black Dragonflight wanted us all dead. And ever so now and then, we would hear a peep from Malygos himself in his own wasting misery, reminding us how it tore him apart. You loved each other, Neltharion. And something happened, something horrible happened and now you hate each other. He used to tell us what the Song sounded like, how wonderful it was to hear the voice of the Aspects of Magic and Earth sing with joyous concert. And how it all went sour, bitter." The lavender eyes of the Aspect of Magic began to water, his azure lip trembling as he tried to fight away the tears. "I wanted to know. I really did. I wanted to forgive, but I couldn't. It still hurts. And it will always hurt. But I fight it every day. There was a piece of me, boiling inside, that wanted to claw your eyes out that night…the night Thrall saved your life. You were so vulnerable and it could have been so easy for me. Twice you were at my mercy, Neltharion. And I wanted to make you feel the pain I felt all of my life, since the day I hatched from my egg."
Neltharion's jaw became slack, hearing the words from Kalecgos. The worst yet, he could feel, the sting that pierced Kalecgos' own heart. He could feel it inside of his own. Neltharion's great heart trembled, ached as he became awash with Kalecgos' emotions.
"You can feel my emotions, Neltharion," said Kalecgos. "You can feel them coming from me?"
"I can feel your heart," he replied. "The pain, the bitterness. Everything."
"Since the hearts of others," said Kalecgos. "Their emotions become yours. Deathwing couldn't do this, could he?"
"It wasn't the same," said Neltharion. "He absorbed them and twisted them, turned them foul. He never felt them."
"Then feel everything," said Kalecgos. "The days after that night, you again were so vulnerable to me. It would have been easy to hurt you the way you hurt me. You hurt my flight."
The Black Dragon dipped his head, his eyes closing to fight back the tears.
"What right do you have now to say you can punish them when I have to leave you be?" asked the Blue. "The hurt you want to deliver to Garrosh, I've wanted over and over again to deliver to you."
Neltharion wagged his head: "No, this isn't the same. I'm not doing this for personal gain. This is different." His eyes lifted to Kalecgos. "I failed in my duties, Kalecgos. I failed to stop one threat. And because of that Sargeras nearly came and destroyed this world. I didn't stop Queen Azshara and her Highbourne. Why do I have to explain this to you when you could have figured it out on your own? Don't you feel what he is doing? I can! I can feel it in the dirt even inside of this canyon. It is festering. This world is already fragile and Deathwing made it even worse. I am trying to do what I can to fix it. But I can't do that if the hurt keeps coming. I can't keep up, Kalecgos. I can't keep up with it. So, I intend to stop it at its source. Surely you've heard the horrible sound his Mana Bomb made over Theramore, the disruption to the leylines he has caused."
Kalecgos' eyes widened and he shook his head.
"Do I have to do your job too, Young Spell-Weaver?" Neltharion asked. "Do I have to do everyone's job? Am I the only one willing to do his job? I can't carry that kind of burden, I already carry the weight of this planet on my shoulders as is plus the weight of the people on it. Even you! I carry your weight too. But to do your job as well as my own will break me. Sooner or later, you'll start listening." He growled as he sighed with frustration. "You are just a piece of twine trying to hold together a heavy iron door, Kalecgos. You weren't made for your job like I was. Like Malygos was. We were never like you or the other dragons. We are like…constructs…don't you understand? We're made specifically to do what we were meant to do. You can't be appointed Spell-Weaver, you have to be made. You were only granted the power, but you don't have what it takes to use it or even understand it. That's why another Earth-Warder cannot be appointed. One has to be built."
Neltharion turned to Thrall.
"That is especially why you cannot be Earth-Warder either, Thrall. To truly even wield a fraction of my power would rip even the most powerful of mortal shamans apart."
Neltharion's eyes came to Garrosh.
"Which is what you figured out! To even wield a fraction of my power, you have to spread it across multiple shamans working in concert. But I will tell you this now, Garrosh, there aren't enough shamans on this planet to wield all of my power. Not even close to wielding half. You will never have all of it no matter how hard you try."
He straightened his back.
"The other reason is because of how I am made. I am strong enough to carry the weight of this planet upon my back without even tiring. I am built to withstand the pressure of this planet's iron-nickel core, for such a force would squeeze the very minerals of your own bodies out right after it killed you. You crumple like paper if you did not burn first. My dragons cannot even survive that…at all. They can barely even survive the pressure of the deepest sea trench on this planet. I hear everything that creeps and crawls upon the surface and down below and by some measure of my father's expert creative skills that I am not driven mad by the sound. I can see everything that creeps and crawls as well, like ripples splashed upon a pond." Neltharion returned his thoughts to Kalecgos. "That is why you can never be the Aspect of Magic that Malygos was, Kalec. You cannot even wield the power he had nor seek to understand it. You were not made for it. I recalled someone once calling we Aspects machines, built and programmed. That is what we are."
His eyes looked upon Thrall one more time: "Now I must do what I was programmed to do. If Malygos was here, he would do the same."
Do not presume so much…to think that you would know what I'd do, dear little brother.
Neltharion's breath was stolen by the smooth tones of his brother Malygos' voice interring his mind. He could hear the struggle in Malygos' voice, as if the ghostly entity was fighting just to pull himself together. Neltharion could feel warmth all around him, inviting, loving, caring, but sad, and ashamed.
Oh, Neltharion, is this why you are hurting inside? Is this why you wish to make so many innocents suffer? Queen Azshara? I never knew how much you carried that inside, how much it tore you up. But Azshara wasn't your fault, dear little brother. She was mine.
The world itself seemed to freeze all around Neltharion as his eyes looked upon the wavering, ghostly form of his fallen brother. Malygos bowed his head as he landed upon the ground and reached out to touch the Black Dragon's chest.
The Well of Eternity was my responsibility and I abandoned it. I allowed everything that has happened to happen. I ignored the warning signs, I dismissed them as foolery. I didn't take it seriously when my own dragons warned me time and time again what the Night Elves were doing. To think that so many have died because of my own procrastination. The Nexus War was my way of trying to fix an already destroyed chance. It was a mistake that I could never repair.
Malygos turned his attention to Garrosh, his orange eyes narrowing with intent.
But this you cannot stop either. I take so much blame for even the coming of the Horde through the Dark Portal because if I was of a sane mind then, I would have stopped Medivh. But so much goodness has come from it since.
He sighed and a wisp of blue-white frost appeared at his ghostly lips. His eyes fell upon Kalecgos.
You were so young then, Kalecgos, Malygos said. And I was so gone in my own world, trapped, that you could not make sense as to what I was saying. I wept not because Deathwing killed my flight time and time again, I wept because I knew what was happening to the one person on this world that I loved more than anything else. I knew what was destroying him from the inside out. I heard it, the cries, the pleads. I heard him, through the Song we shared together. He wept and he was so alone and I turned my back on him! Neltharion…
Both Kalecgos and Neltharion froze, their eyes darting between each other and then back to Malygos.
"What are you trying to say?" Neltharion asked. "Malygos…I don't understand…"
I stood by and I did nothing to save you, Neltharion! I did nothing! I heard it, I heard you call for my help while that monster inside of your heat beat you, ravaged, you tore you in two and I stood by and watched. I didn't raise a claw to help. When you needed me the most, I abandoned you. I hated Deathwing, I hated for what he did, even more now because of what he did to you, Neltharion. You called out to me, over and over again, and in the end, even after the deed was done, the betrayal set…I did nothing. For ten thousand years, I did nothing!
Neltharion looked down upon the apparition as Malygos leaned his head upon the Earth-Warder's chest. He lifted a paw to the ghost.
I murmured, trying to figure out why my flight deserved such death, whatever did I do to you? It was only now in my death, alone, cold, in the Nexus, did I not see how blind I was. I heard it, your warning. I heard it. You tried to tell me. You tried. I heard the Song be filled with so much pain, so much sorrow, so much…humiliation. And I let it happen, Neltharion, I let it happen to you. I have wronged you, my brother. I was not there when you needed me the most. I was not there when Azeroth needed its Spell-Weaver the most. I failed you, I failed Norgannon, I failed Azeroth. Forgive me, brother.
He returned his gaze upon Kalecgos one more time.
Crystalsong Forest was not his fault. It was mine, Kalec. Because I could have saved him, I could have. And now you must bear the weight of my failures. You must be there for him when I cannot.
Neltharion looked to Garrosh, his eyes narrowed with hatred and malice. As Malygos unloaded his heart to the Earth-Warder, Neltharion's hot temperature plummeted down. He was cool enough once more to touch. He felt a tiny touch to his foot and he peered down to see Thrall there.
"Neltharion, you're right," he said. Thrall decided to say what Neltharion wanted to hear, even if it stung upon his tongue as he spoke his message. "I don't know what it means to be you. I don't know what it means to be the Earth-Warder for it is a charge that is far greater than I could ever understand. And I cannot take your place. I…thought I could. I thought caring for this world and wanting to protect and speak for the elements was enough, but it isn't. That is why Azeroth needs its Dragon Aspects for they can bear the weight that would destroy a man, even an orc such as myself. But at least heed me when I say now is not the time for violence. Even Aspects need to step back from their positions long enough to grieve like everyone else. You need that time, Neltharion. You've done so much, trying to swiftly piece together the broken world Deathwing shattered, but it just can't happen so quickly. Not in two years. Please, just step back and allow yourself to grieve. Please."
"And…I suppose you expect me to fix Orgrimmar after I have broken it," began Neltharion. "That I need to. I should start right now, I can bend the gate back into shape…"
For a moment, Thrall thought about Neltharion had said. He recalled Neltharion reminding him time and time again that he bore the responsibility for Deathwing's malice. He would not just shove it away, blaming Deathwing only. The dragon wanted the world to see that he was willing to correct all that had gone wrong. Now, Neltharion himself caused this destruction, the earthquakes, the ash cloud, the death toll in Orgrimmar and in the Barrens. He caused every last bit of it. Then, the orc's lip frowned heavily, his dark eyebrows furrowing.
"No," he said. "Do not fix it. Let Garrosh clean this mess up."
This was a reply Neltharion was not ready for. The Black Dragon's mouth hung open with astonishment and confusion.
"What?" Neltharion asked.
"Let this be a lesson, to him," said Thrall. "If he so wishes to tangle with such a powerful force, he must understand that…that force will return in kind, and he will lose the fight. Garrosh must understand that there are things too great, too powerful for him to control…to even understand. It is a hard lesson his father, Grom Hellscream had to learn. Grom Hellscream killed Mannoroth, but even in death, the demon was too powerful for him and he died because of it. He dealt in powers beyond his understanding and he paid the price." He closed his eyes and crossed his arms. "I now know why the water elementals did not want me to control them when I fought back against Jaina. Garrosh Hellscream, you tamper with the power of the Earth-Warder and this is what you wrought from it." Then, he sent a silent message with the beat of his own heart to Neltharion. If he does this again, if he tries to use such power again…I will not stop you if you decide to act upon it. His path will bring dishonor to the Horde. Garrosh had a taste of what you are capable of doing if ever he steps out of line. Let it linger.
Neltharion took in a deep breath, his chest swelling. He exhaled. His eyes came upon Nefarian's rotting skull still lying in the middle of the Valley of Strength.
"I will leave," he said. "And you can rebuild your city, Garrosh. But know this, I will be watching you closer this time. However, my son's head, I'll be taking that with me, with or without your say in the matter."
"Then leave," said Garrosh. "Leave my city. I grow tired…"
"Not another word," said Thrall. "Not another word, Garrosh! Hold your tongue and do not say another spiteful thing to him. If you do, not even I will be able to stop him a second time."
Garrosh snorted and turned away, heading for the metal door in the floor. He opened it up and climbed down, disappearing into whatever dark chamber he had hidden away below Orgrimmar.
Malygos let go of his brother as Neltharion slowly lumbered towards Nefarian's head. The Black Aspect gathered his son's head into his jaws ever so carefully. He gave Garrosh one last glimpse of the ire inside of his eyes and then headed for the broken gate. He could not gain the revenge he wanted for the lives he lost, nor to catch one Azshara before the fall. There was a lingering satisfaction inside his mind with the knowledge that Garrosh and those loyal to him will have a difficult time trying to recuperate from his attack. The ash cloud itself was also another obstacle to the Horde. Their grass plains and water supplies have all been contaminated by volcanic ash. There will be famine and much struggle for them. Neltharion at least hoped this struggle would prevent Garrosh from returning to any plans of conquest quickly.
Kalecgos, Thrall, and Malygos followed Neltharion out of Orgrimmar. Kalecgos allowed Thrall to ride upon his back as the dragons took flight and distanced themselves farther and farther away from Orgrimmar and Garrosh. They flew over Frey Island, Kalecgos spied Jaina still there, still waiting beside the Focusing Iris. The two dragons landed a little ways from her, the wind of their wings nearly knocking her down. Jaina held her ground, bracing herself against the Iris.
"I could feel the earth tremble all the way from here, Neltharion," she said. "Orgrimmar…"
Neltharion set his son's head down and Jaina looked upon it for a moment with curiosity. Then her face brightened and she once more looked upon the Black Dragon.
"You destroyed it!" she said. "And you got your son's head back."
"One more member of my flight dead that I truly failed to give a proper burial," said Neltharion somberly. "But yes, parts of Orgrimmar were destroyed. I tore down their gate."
"Has anything else happened?"
"He did not kill Garrosh Hellscream," said Thrall. "And only the Valley of Strength and Grommash Hold were damaged by Neltharion's anger."
"I am sorry, Jaina, I couldn't do it," said Neltharion. "I wanted to, but I couldn't. I…decided to let him go, despite feeling foolish for doing so. Go ahead, call me an idiot, weak, a jackass."
"No," she said. "No, I won't. I suppose sitting here on my own, I started to think about what I was doing. If Garrosh is going down, then we will do it the right way. I'm not going to play his game, it only makes my grief worse." She turned to Thrall. "But I will not stand by and allow the Horde you created harm anymore innocent people. I am not going to back away and just vanish either. I still want to fight."
"Then fight the Horde," said Thrall. "Fight them when they come to slay the innocent. For Neltharion and Malygos, Queen Azshara was their hubris. I know Garrosh may be mine. I still want to help you, Neltharion. The Dragonmaw have your children. And if Garrosh kidnapped my children, of course I would be determined as all hell to walk through fire and get them back. No matter the consequences."
"I don't need your help," Neltharion said with a deep, vibrating growl. "Now though, I do not know what to do. I still can't get this sinking feeling of wanting to crush those responsible for murdering my family and destroying my home."
"I feel the same," said Jaina. "Letting him go, there is no satisfaction."
Then perhaps, do not…fight Horde innocents and civilians. Fight their warriors, their soldiers.
Neltharion looked to Malygos and nodded with agreement.
"So be it," he said. "I know that Calia wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I didn't avenge her in some form or fashion. And I know my flight would feel the same. I cannot let the Horde go unpunished."
"Neltharion, as I was flying here, I saw a fleet of Alliance ships making their way to Darkshore," began Kalecgos. "If a battle is what you need to air your grief, then go to a battle."
"If I cannot deter either of you from the path of war," began Thrall. "Then at least aid those who fight the Horde. If orc blood must be spilt by either of you, let it be blood of warriors. Garrosh will have his time coming." He craned his head up at Neltharion. "I just hope in time you can forgive the misguided for the actions of their Warchief. Neltharion, know that Garrosh hurt me with this action as well. When I heard the news, I too wanted to crush Garrosh's head with the Doomhammer. This action is truly dishonorable, even upon me." He came to Jaina. "I am sorry. I was ignorant in my choice. Garrosh has hurt those I hold dear as well and I will find a way to make it all right again."
Neltharion rumbled softly and leaned down to Thrall: "At last, World Shaman, we can now understand each other. But that will not heal the divide between us. You stood in my way, arrogantly thinking you knew what was best for the Earth-Warder to do. And though you took it all back with your words, I know in your heart many of those words you did not truly mean. I…cannot call you brother anymore."
This revelation hit Thrall harder than he ever felt. The dragon leaned in closer to Jaina.
"Hop upon my back again, Jaina," he said. "I will take you to the fleet."
Kalecgos stepped a thick foot forward, his eyes belying his protest.
"I could carry her," he said.
"I know," said Neltharion.
"Kalec," began Jaina. "Let Neltharion do it. We both needs this right now."
Jaina scaled his black scales and climbed upon his elementium-armored back. As Neltharion rose upon his paws one more time, his eyes turned towards Malygos. The ghostly dragon appeared to be growing fainter and fainter with each passing moment.
"Malygos?" he asked.
I am sorry, old friend. I…the Mana Bomb has…taken much out of me. I must…return to the Nexus and rest. But I will be alright, Neltharion. I will be alright. Kalecgos, please take care of the Focusing Iris for me. And do a better job of it.
The ghost faded away with a breathy sigh of the wind. Neltharion bowed his head. He stared upon his son's head, placing a gentle paw upon it.
"Kalec," he began. "Could you watch over this while Jaina and I find the fleet? It…would mean a lot to me."
"Of course," said Kalecgos. "I will make sure no harm comes to Nefarian."
Neltharion dipped his head and spread his great wings. The Black Dragon, a gush of rushing, cyclonic wind, took to the air. He angled himself out over the Great Sea, gliding northward up the coastline. Jaina held as tightly as she could while the dragon's great speed swiftly sped them towards Darkshore. On the distance, in the hazy horizon, Neltharion could see flashes of light, black smoke, and black pointed shapes upon the water. His ears picked up the sound of cannon fire, of spells being cast, elementals called to aid, and the clash of steel. With each pump of his wings brought him closer and closer to the sea battle before him and for Jaina, a sense excitement and anxiety. Already, he could feel Jaina preparing her spells, the energy radiating from her. Neltharion too readied his own machinations. The water started to pool together all around him as he flew, tendrils forming. They hardened like ice, but moved as if they were alive and fluid. The icy tendrils began to spiral all around him as he flew closer to the battle.
It was time for the Earth-Warder to make his grand entrance.