XXII

As the Alliance became settled in their newly built Northwatch Hold, Neltharion then took Varian to see the damage, which was done to Orgrimmar and the surrounding areas. This was the first the King of Stormwind had ever rose upon the back of the Black Aspect. When Neltharion had landed, Varian still had to take a moment to breathe before he could dismount. Neltharion landed near the now destroyed outpost fifty miles away from Orgrimmar. All around him, he found dead, destroyed, dried, bloody bodies that were once orcs. There was a crater, created by the impact force of Garrosh's cannon. Neltharion pointed at his chest where the bullet hit him to give Varian an idea of just how powerful the velocity of the shell happened to be.

"Considering that the first shot knocked me out of the sky," Neltharion said. "If he had this gun of his mobile, and it was aimed at Stormwind...I would say it could take out about half of the city."

"And this gun shot you in the chest three times?" Varian asked.

"Knocked me down on the first shot, but the second two, I was prepared for it," he said. "He would have shot the fourth, but, I was too close. If he had shot the fourth shell, it would have destroyed the Valley of Strength." The dragon kept his eyes and ears out for any enemies as he explained what happened. He could not sense any approaching orc or any hostile wildlife near them. "I believe the amount of torque coming from that gun, Garrosh at this time does not have a mobile platform strong enough to take the recoil. When I smashed the tower, I saw just how deep the struts were set into the rock. Like roots on a tree. But if I had not taken out the gun, your fleet would have been destroyed with one shot."

"Then, I am more than grateful you did," he said. "That your anger was aimed at Garrosh and not me. I am beginning to see a pattern here, Neltharion. You are the last person I want to be on the bad side of."

Neltharion wagged his head: "I didn't show you this to scare you, Varian. I showed you this to see what sort of weapon Garrosh had built using stolen knowledge from my brain. I did not give that technology to him. That bastard stole it from me. Deathwing, when tormented my mind, he ripped and tore through my subconscious to bring that knowledge out. That parasite drilled into my head so he could make that knowledge flow."

"But you have destroyed it."

"Oh, I damaged it," said Neltharion. "It'll take Garrosh a while to even make new parts for that gun. And given the destitute I've left the Horde, it will be a long while before he can make that thing functional again."

"And how would you feel if I asked you to perhaps send a few shockwaves to make it more difficult for him to rebuild it?" Varian asked.

"King Varian!" Neltharion said in a shocked tone, gasping at the request, and placing his heart upon his chest. "That would go against my neutrality."

Varain shifted and crossed his arms expectantly at the gigantic dragon.

"However," Neltharion continued. "He is using technology that was stolen from me. I suppose I should teach him a continual lesson about not stealing from an Aspect. And he's already stole from two different Aspects. I don't know what Kalecgos will do about the Focusing Iris being stolen and used for that malicious bomb. But what he does about it is none of my concern. Alright, I might let a crustal plate slip in the area. After all, Durotar is tectonically active."

"It is just an simple question," said Varian. "I am against using such methods...but...I suppose if Garrosh has escalated things, then I must match him."

"Don't play his game," said Neltharion. "Let me do it. I can take whatever he dishes out. You can't. After all, that was what I was built for. Prior to Deathwing's actions, I am in fact the shield of Azeroth. My job to take whatever punches may come. I'm supposed to protect the creatures birthed from this world. Humans included."

"Good enough for me. For now."

Neltharion rumbled a sigh. He could hear the dismissive tone in Varian's voice. His shoulders slumping heavily: "Of course."

Once everything was squared away with Varian and the Alliance, Neltharion left them to find Kalecgos, Thrall, and the Focusing Iris. They were waiting for him on Frey Island. Neltharion took Jaina with him, landed upon the island and allowed her to leap down. For the first time in a long while, he felt relaxed, calm. As he touched the ground, he heard a striking and yet joyous note. Neltharion held his breath as he was finally able to hear the sound of his world again and his flight once more.

"Neltharion?" Thrall began, his voice catching the dragon in a shock. "What's the matter?"

"I hear the planet again," Neltharion replied as he turned to the shaman. "I couldn't hear the planet before now. The Mana Bomb…"

"The Mana Bomb did something to your powers?" Jaina asked.

"Yes, it's why I couldn't even sense Calia," said Neltharion. "Why I couldn't even hear my flight."

"Can you sense Calia now?" Jaina asked.

"She is just as Varian told me," Neltharion replied. "The Azuremyst Isles with Velen." He settled upon his belly, giving a long stretch to his great wings and pawed the sandy ground. "She will be safe there. I have crippled Garrosh's plans. So, I know he cannot make an attack anytime soon, at least not without my knowing of it." He turned to Jaina. "I have figured out the frequency that he attempted to block my senses with. And I can counter it if he attempts to do it again."

"At least we'll know we won't be attacked on surprise again," she said.

"I...do not know about you," said Neltharion. "I know I won't. Besides, I intend to take my dragons somewhere he cannot reach without specific permission from the Earthen-Ring." He dipped his head and wagged it with regret flavoring his words. "I should have never thought about living in Theramore. This was my mistake. I could have lived there, even with Garrosh...but it was not safe for my already nearly extinct flight."

Jaina came up to him, touching the pebbly black scales upon his paw, attempting as she could to comfort him.

"I feel this was my fault," she said. "I should have known that something like this would happen. You and your flight was made to suffer for my own arrogance."

Neltharion lifted his eyes to her: "No, Jaina. No. This isn't your fault, it was mine. It really has been ten thousand years since I've had to care about my flight. When all you have is yourself and the demon who torments you, you tend to forget the outside world exists. Though I hate Deathwing with all my being for what he has done to me, to you, to Calia...everyone...he has given me a body that is hundreds of times stronger than I ever had before. I keep thinking everyone is...impervious like me. Even my flight. And I forgot they aren't. I survived that bomb because of what Deathwing did to my body. I highly doubt I would have lived if it went off twenty thousand years ago."

"Where are you going to take your dragons?" asked Thrall.

"Perhaps into Deepholm," said Neltharion.

"What about Therazane?"

"I don't care about Therazane," he replied. "And I am more than capable of handling her if she wishes to be an impolite neighbor. I was her jailer, Thrall. If she becomes a problem, I will be her jailer again."

Neltharion looked away and rumbled deeply. Jaina walked around him to the front as he stared aimlessly towards the east.

"I can feel my flight again," he said. He tilted his head to Jaina. "Some of them are still alive."

"Your eyes have cleared," said Jaina.

Neltharion leaned down towards the surface of the glassy sea. Suddenly, the surface of the sea solidified into a sheet of ice, becoming reflective like a mirror. He gazed upon his own reflection to find that his eyes no longer glowed brilliant blue white. They were green again. But the white streaks in his beard had not faded away. He reached out and pulled at one of the white locks.

"Everyone was saying I'm going gray," he said. "I never figured it would be this bad, though."

Jaina knelt to her knees and looked at her own reflection in the mirror-like ice sheet. Her eyes had also cleared, no longer glowing brilliant blue-white. They were just their crystal blue color again. But her hair was still silvery with only one lock of blonde left in the front.

"You and me both," she said.

Neltharion chuckled, dipping his head down and nuzzling Jaina's back very, very gently. She giggled and patted his huge snout.

"I'm sorry that it just couldn't work out," she said. "But I'm glad you came to live in Theramore even if it was for such a short time."

"Me too," said Neltharion. "But...um...I think perhaps you could go to Dalaran. Before...before Rhonin passed away, he received a message from Krasus detailing who the next leader of the Council of Six would be."

"A message," said Jaina.

"He told me," said Neltharion. He sniffed and felt the sting of his tears as they started to flow. "He...he knew that he was going to die. I didn't want it to happen. Not...not another one...but he said it was meant to happen. Jaina, Krasus' prophecy states that after Rhonin, you will be the next leader of the Council of Six. He knew it was his time to go. He saved you so you would carry on in his absence."

Jaina lowered her her knees and cupped her hands upon her face. Neltharion moved only closer to again gently nuzzle her back. She could feel the Aspect's hot breath. Then, his eyes came to Kalecgos and he leaned up. With a jerk of his head, Neltharion motioned for Kalecgos to move in closer.

"Jaciv rigluinic wux," he said softly in the ancient tongue of dragons. "Jaciv rigluinic vi thurirl."

"Vucoti," said Kalecgos. The Great Blue settled himself down, placing Jaina between the opening of his forelegs. He nuzzled her back with his snout and Jaina rose up to throw her arms around his chest. Kalecgos looked to Neltharion and smiled softly. The Earth-Warder dipped his head again.

"See?" he said in the common tongue. "Jaina, I think Kalecgos needs you to take care of him. Can you do that for me? He needs a friend."

Jaina sniffed: "Yeah, I think I can. Also, about the Focusing Iris…"

Kalecgos sighed and looked to Neltharion.

"Despite the fact that Neltharion felt I was in the wrong to move it," he began. "I still feel it should. I just don't have a proper place to put it."

"Dalaran," said Neltharion. "If you are that worried about it, then since Jaina is going to be the new leader of the Council of Six, who better than her to trust its safety with? Take it to Dalaran. They've got traps in Dalaran so nasty it could turn your insides out. It could turn me into a pile of pulsating pudding of lava. I wouldn't want to mess with anything there."

"What about Malygos?" he asked. "He doesn't trust the Kirin Tor."

Neltharion rumbled a sigh, spreading his wings slightly and then snapping them to his back in a very draconic version of a shrug: "Malygos is not the Spell-Weaver anymore, is he?"

Kalecgos smiled, realizing the confidence Neltharion finally was handing him. The Earth-Warder bowed respectively to him, dipping all the way down, lifting his right paw out and spreading his wings just slightly. As Neltharion straightened out, he looked down upon Kalecgos and smiled.

"No," said Kalecgos. "He isn't."

"You are the Aspect, Little Kalec," he said. "The Iris belongs to you now, not Malygos. It falls to your responsibility. If you feel it should be moved out of the Nexus, then do so. I just hope you would take this old Aspect's advice of moving it to Dalaran. After all, that's what the other dragons did back then, you know. It didn't matter what color of scales they had, they always came to me for advice."

Kalecgos nodded: "Then, I shall heed the wisdom of the Earth-Warder. Jaina, is that alright with you? I wouldn't do it if you say no."

"No," said Jaina. "That's fine. Please. I think it would be safe in Dalaran. Neltharion is right in that."

Kalecgos dipped his head down to allow her to mount upon his shoulders. When he felt she was comfortably between the triangular shoulder blades of his wings, the Blue Aspect picked up the Focusing Iris in his paw. He took one last look at Neltharion and once more and the Black nodded again. Kalecgos spread his shimmering, azure, shear wings and then bounded off over the Great Sea, flying north back to Northrend. Thrall came walking up to Neltharion, looking up with a half smile on his thick, green lips. Neltharion rumbled and huffed, turning back.

"I'm still mad at you," the Black Dragon quickly snapped. "I am not going to easily forgive this."

"Neltharion, you can't blame everyone in the Horde for Theramore," said Thrall.

"No, you're right, I can't," said Neltharion as he shifted around. He lowered his head until his snout was directly above the orc, staring him down with intense green eyes and smoking nostrils. He heard Thrall cough from the noxious smoke and a piece of him found satisfaction for the orc's discomfort. "I can't. But I can certainly blame you. I can also blame Garrosh and any orc that wishes to remain loyal to him. Because until Garrosh is dethroned, that will never change! Right now, the Horde has my children, the Dragonmaw have my children, using them as slaves. Tell me I have no right to attack for that. Go right ahead and tell me."

"You have every right," said Thrall. "As a father. You're right. I would hunt the scoundrel down for harming my children, for kidnapping them and enslaving them. I'd hunt them down until their blood drenched my hands." His head lowered. "I wish we wouldn't part like this, Neltharion. I wish it didn't have to be this way. But if it must, then, I will not stop you if you decide to let those loyal to Garrosh feel the heat of your anger. The Dragonmaw included. I…I can't stop you, can I? I can only tell you how I feel about it."

"I've told Garrosh how I felt," said Neltharion. "You think he cares?"

"No, he doesn't," said Thrall. He looked back up at the dragon. "But I do. I care. I care about you. I care and I worry what this might do to you. After I've helped you be rid of that monster, I just don't want to see you walk down the same path as he."

"Noted," said Neltharion. "But I have to do this. I have to do it. I can't stop until it is done. No matter what." He swung his head back down to Thrall. "And I am not sorry for anyone who stands in my way gets hurt." He slowly spread his wings. "Farewell, Son of Durotan."

Neltharion kicked off with a mighty downbeat of his massive wings. Thrall was thrown back again by the shear force of wind coming off of them. He rose achingly up to find the Great Black flying off into the parting clouds. The eruption was finally over, the new caldera had settled where Theramore once was. It looked like an enormous crater stretching and covering a good portion of the Dustwallow Marshes. The damage to Central Kalimdor had been done.

§§§

Neltharion followed the sound of his flight's chatter over the Echo Isles. The Great Black banked his wings, flapping them lazily in the hazy air. The sun was finally setting over Kalimdor and the sky over the Echo Isles turned a brilliant, rosy gold. Neltharion could see the movement of the trolls below when they saw his form flying towards them. He could sense their fear. A spark of an idea flashed into his mind and Neltharion ducked down to dive right into the sea. His great form caused a wave to rise up and crash hard upon the rocks. But as the wave raced through to flood the village the water froze instantly before it could. Coming out of his hut was Vol'jin and he stood with silent awe as the water froze before him, preventing any damage to the village. Then, the frozen wave withdrew slowly back into the ocean.

"Spirits watching over us," he whispered almost humbly.

Neltharion slowly rose up out of the ocean, walking upon the solid ice. His form was much smaller, no larger than one of the raptors the trolls rode upon. Wind picked up his flowing locks, blowing them around his neck, adding to the rather haunting majestic way he was walking towards them. As he set foot upon the sand, the last of the icy wave withdrew back into the ocean from whence it came.

"Has anyone been drowned?" Neltharion asked just as a precaution.

"No, mon," said Vol'jin. "You froze the wave before it could get us."

"I didn't want to scare anyone," said Neltharion. "But I sense that you have something of mine…"

Vol'jin nodded as he slowly and cautiously approached the Black Aspect. Neltharion dipped his head down, his attempt to show Vol'jin that he was not there to harm anyone. He tried his best to look somewhat submissive and less dangerous as he could.

"You're not far off from that," said Vol'jin. "Serinar! Serinar! Your…grandpappy's come to visit!"

Neltharion dipped his head down, giving Vol'jin an embarrassed smile. If he was not so darkly scaled, he would be flushing red. A few glowing cracks between his scales brightened.

"I suppose we've never been formally introduced," Neltharion began.

"No, but I know you by reputation," said Vol'jin.

"And I know you as well," said Neltharion. "I am sorry, I couldn't do what you asked me to do. I couldn't eat Garrosh…again."

Vol'jin grinned over his huge tusks, straightening his back and scratching his sides.

"I suppose Hellscream doesn't taste all that great," he said. "But it's alright, mon. Probably for the best you don't kill him. If one of us killed him, it would look a little…better." He leaned a little closer to Neltharion, stretching up to his ear hole. "But I wouldn't talk about Hellscream's demise so loudly here, mon. Hellscream's eyes, dhey be everywhere."

Neltharion and Vol'jin glanced cautiously around. Then, the Black Dragon closed his eyes. He rumbled as he listened to the voice of the hearts of everyone on the island. They beat with friendly warmth and he grinned softly.

"I do not sense the ill intent of enemies here," said Neltharion. "They appear to be in full support of their chieftain. But right now, I can sense a few of them seem rather frightened of me. I will not step any closer, if you don't mind. I'll keep my distance from them."

Vol'jin looked around to the other trolls who kept their distance from the Aspect. He could see their fearful faces, women and children hiding in the huts, the mothers keeping their arms around their children, protecting them. The men watched, eying the dragon with suspicion, some of them gripping their spears tightly, ready to dash to their chieftain's aid if need be.

"You can sense their…thoughts?" Vol'jin asked.

"I can sense their hearts," Neltharion replied. "It's hard to keep anything from me, even true feelings. I think the word is empathy? I am empathic. I can sense the emotions of others."

"Useful," said Vol'jin.

"Serinar!" Neltharion bellowed loudly. "Confn tenpiswo! Svaklar re wer vrantvrakic?"

"Confnir, naflopsola!" replied a forest green-skinned orc who came running up from behind a hut. "Si itrewica astahi. Astahii re tokeq."

Neltharion tilted his head to the black dragon disguised as an orc.

"Wux re vin ghik?" he asked.

Serinar chuckled: "Axun."

Neltharion huffed an approved snort: "Coi ui vi oupyiki vorq."

Serinar turned around, allowing his grandfather to get a better look at the disguise. He smiled again.

"I'm hoping Serinar has been behaving himself at least," Neltharion said to Vol'jin.

"He has, mon," said Vol'jin.

"I wonder sometimes…" he said. "Let's just say since my return to the side of sanity, it's left a few of my dragons a little off. Serinar used to be very cold, but hot tempered. Now he's…"

Neltharion looked on as Serinar started smoothing back the straight, heavy locks on his head.

"Well…" he began, motioning to how the dragon was acting, preening himself and then rocking back upon the heels of his feet. "At least he remembers how to open doors."

"It's alright, mon," said Vol'jin. "Listen my trolls and I know about not getting on your bad side. I don't like Hellscream. I don't like what he is doing. But…right now, I can't…"

"I understand," said Neltharion. "You can't risk the safety of your people for a coup d'etat. I get that. But if it ever arrises, let me know. Because I can back you up. A lot." He paused and exhaled. "A lot, a lot."

"I will make sure," said Vol'jin. "Thank you."

"Now, if you don't mind," he began. "While I do appreciate you taking care of my unborn children, I must take them to someplace safer. Best you don't know where. I can't ask you to do anymore than what you've done already. Thank you, Vol'jin. I…I appreciate it a lot. You didn't have to do this."

"I don't have to be turned to cinders either," said Vol'jin.

Neltharion nodded with a small smile: "It's…after all that happened…it's good to know there are some people out there willing to…do something nice for me regardless. And I won't forget it. The Darkspear Trolls are safe…with me."

"Thank you," said Vol'jin, though his voice held some awkwardness, but relief as well. "Dat is very nice for you to say that."

Neltharion nodded again: "I want to return and have another chat with you. If that is fine."

"No problem, just come a little more quietly," said Vol'jin. "I don't want Garrosh getting any ideas."

"Right," he said. "If any of the Kor'kron ask, just say I threatened to rip your head off or something. You know, make it believable. Less they ask, the better."

"No problem, mon," said Vol'jin.

Neltharion watched as Serinar and a few trolls came walking up, pulling a covered wagon full of eggs. With that, Serinar then returned to his true form. The black dragon gripped the wagon gently with his paws and took off. Neltharion then gave one parting dip to his head and walked back into the sea. A few moments later, he exploded forth from the water and flew off, following Serinar. Vol'jin waved goodbye as the two dark forms disappeared into the rusty clouds. One of his trolls came walking up behind him.

"Chieftain…dhe Earth-Warder, is he going to come back and attack us?"

"Why would he do dhat?" Vol'jin asked. "No. He's gonna be like an ally for now. It's be alright, mon. He won't be grievin' us here. He come back, we have another little chat, dhat all. He sounds like a nice guy, you know? He just wanted to come pick up his grandkid and his unborn kids. Nodhin' wrong wid dhat. I should give him a chance. Just to see what dhis will be. I give him no trouble, he gives me no trouble…and if it continue to be like dhat, then…it'll be fine. I'm not gonna call him brodda, if you be dhinkin' that!" He leaned back and scratched his bearded chin. "Maybe cousin. Second cousin, twice removed. On me mudda's side. Neltharion. He's gonna be me second cousin. Dhere we go. And if'n it all goes well, dhen, he can be first cousin."

§§§

They all gathered as they were ordered to do so, at the Maelstrom. The water swirled around to a central point and ribbons of orange and gold energy shot forth from the rocky teeth. A storm above, swirling violently with dark, gloomy clouds. Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled forth. The water lashed out, spraying upon the jagged rocks of what was left of the ancient city of Zin Azshari. And below, at the Rift itself, what used to be the Well of Eternity. To this day, its arcane energies seep out skyward, in a column of glimmering light. About the jagged rocky teeth were black dragons. There were whelps, young drakes, and fully grown dragons. None of them seem all that bothered by the pelting relentless rain from the hurricane above. Circling around them protectively was the leader of the Black Dragonflight, Neltharion the Earth-Warder.

All had been gathered, all were called save for Ruthian, Dannathion, and Siderion. Even Siderion's sister Nameria rested upon the rocks, watching the Lord of the Black Dragonflight fly above them. Finally, Neltharion spoke, his voice louder than the thunder above or the crashing waves below.

"My children!" he bellowed. "I have forsook you. I've made a grave mistake and many of you have been made to pay. I am sorry. I am so sorry. It was my error to have many of you in Theramore. And I miscalculated. We are right now so very fragile, so weak. We are so few. Though, I am happy that many eggs have been recovered despite the tragedy. But I must send you all away, for your safety. To Deepholm."

"Deepholm?" asked Serinar. "What about Therazane? She doesn't exactly like the idea of black dragons coming down to keep her company."

"Don't worry, I am going with you," said Neltharion. "I will make sure all of you are safe before I return above. But you all must stay down there, only for a while. Only until I can make us strong again. I can take whatever Garrosh may dish out, I have proven that twice already. But you, all of you…" He paused, the words ached in his heart. "You're…not me. You're not as strong as me. And it would break me further if I knew none of you were safe. I can't do that here. I can't make you all safe here. But I can down there. I'm not asking it to be permanent."

"But, Father, we need a broodmother," called a black drake female.

"I will find one," said Neltharion.

Nameria stood up, spreading her wings wide: "I shall volunteer, my lord! I will be your broodmother. I have already said you can mate with me. Our children will be strong!"

Neltharion turned and hovered upon the swirling air.

"I will not rob the cradle!" he called. "Besides, you are related to me, Nameria. Even with the seed of an Aspect, our children will be inbred. Such evil has been done already with Nefarian and Onyxia and I will not have it now. It has damaged my flight enough. I must seek black dragons who are not directly a descendant of mine."

"I hate to rain on the party, Gramps," said Serinar. "But black dragons who aren't related to you are still quite nuts. They don't have your genes to cure themselves with. Nalice is a good example. She's no way related to you. I think her ancestors existed before the Titans introduced the Aspects to the five different dragonflights."

"And she is also dead," said Neltharion. "Killed by…I do not know who. And I will find that answer as well. I will find who it is that has been killing members of my flight."

He heard all sort of disagreeing murmurs from his flight. They all passed glances of insecurities between each other. The whelplings huddled close to a few of the older drakes.

"Look, I…don't want anything to happen to any of you," said Neltharion as he saw the fear in the little whelplings' eyes. "I'm not…all together just yet. And I'm going to be making a lot of mistakes because of that. I just don't want any of you to be harmed by my mistakes." He landed off upon one of the sharp pillars of rock jutting out from the frothy sea. "Too many people have been harmed because…I'm still not my self. I'm not Neltharion before he was corrupted by the Old Gods. And I am not Deathwing. I am what is left of that pain and torment. I am…broken. I can only thank that my father gave me such a strong body to couple with my stupidity. At least he had enough foresight to give me a helmet for my head." He dipped his head low enough to bang upon his skull with a limp, but curled fist. That at least got some giggles from the young ones. "I know I'm very, very stupid."

"You're not stupid, Gramps," said Serinar. "Absent minded at times, but not stupid. Look, we all get it, you need therapy. I'd probably be needing therapy too if I went through the hell you did for ten thousand years. Hardly any of us can touch you without you shrieking in pain."

Neltharion lowered his head, staring listlessly upon the glowing orange center of the spiraling whirlpool.

"We'll go," said Nameria. "If you believe it is best for our safety, my lord."

Neltharion nodded his head slowly.

"I don't know what I would do if I lost anyone else in my flight," he said.

"We'll go," said Serinar. "But, you know, we care about you too. All of us here. We worry about you, Neltharion. All you do is worry about whether or not we'll be safe, but you make some of the worst decisions for us…"

Neltharion huffed, lowering his head between his paws as he listened to his grandson reminding him of his failures.

"I'm not trying to pick on you," said Serinar. "I...maybe I should just shut up right now…" He raised his black claw to his head, giving it a scratch. "Alright, I see your point. If anything else screws up, at least we all won't feel the heat of it."

"Right," said Neltharion. He slowly rose up. "I'm not going to leave right away. Calia is safe with Velen, I can…stand to be away from her a couple more days." He kicked off from his rock ledge and took flight. "I'll stay with all of you to make sure you're safely settled in."

The Great Black dove towards the swirling vortex of water below and every one of his dragons took flight to follow. They all dove into the Maelstrom, passing through torrent water and deep into the Rift. The Rift itself was a raised crevasse of bedrock at the center of the vortex itself. Through the water, Neltharion could see toppled and tattered remains of the ancient Night Elf city of Zin Azshari. Below him laid a black void and streams of golden and orange energies. As Neltharion and his flight hit the void, their world suddenly was filled with stars and wispy azure nebulas and bursts of purple flashes. Below them was a large rocky expanse that went on forever in the void of stars and an enormous hole right at the center where the streams of energy still flowed out from. As he dipped down into the fractured hole, Neltharion leveled out and hovered aways from the hole itself. He waited as he watched his flight shoot down from the hole in the ceiling, each one of them gliding in a graceful spiral towards the gigantic piece of ancient architecture at the center.

The Temple of Earth, also known as the Temple of the Earth-Warder. This gigantic building was created by Khaz'Goroth, the World Shaper for Neltharion to keep watch over the Elemental Lords during the Organization of Azeroth. The temple itself was built to accommodate a dragon of his size. It was his true home. From here, Neltharion was charged with the protection of the World Pillar, created to help him carry the weight of the core of Azeroth and mind the gravitational forces and electromagnetic field that protected the planet from the solar winds and held everyone to the planet. With just a nudge in either direction, Neltharion could stop the rotation of Azeroth and fling every living thing off the planet, or slow it down to where days and nights would last six months or more at a time. Or speed the rotation up to where they could last 14 hours. Deathwing destroyed the World Pillar during the Cataclysm, which caused the entire planet to start imploding in upon itself. Luckily, it was stopped before further damage could be caused.

The great temple was carved in the finest of stone from Deepholm itself and decorated in colorful crystals of amethyst, diamonds, citrine, bloodstone, and even moonstone. Sapphires and emeralds dotted the walls inside and vaulted arches of gold lined the halls and corridors. It almost looked like an earthy version of Wyrmrest Temple for its familiar Titan architectural design. The Titans loved barrel vault arches and decorative, angular buttresses.

But this grand temple was made to house a being whose size rivaled that of the mountains themselves and his children.

"To the Stonecore," Neltharion called to the long flight of black dragons.

They all swung around towards the entrance to Stonecore over off on the side. They all flew around the entrance until Neltharion entered himself first, making sure it was cleared. He lead them through the dark corridors of the interior of Stonecore, passing pillars of purple and blue crystals. He padded as lightly as he could with each step. His flight also were just as quiet as they could be. Many of the little whelplings rode upon the backs of the elder dragons. The drakes were trying to keep as graceful and silent as they could, pulling their wings tightly to their sides.

The deeper they went, the stranger Stonecore became. Neltharion paused and looked around at the hard surfaces of the ceiling, floors, walls, the spiky rock formations and crystals. His body trembled, the spiky scales along his neck raised up just slightly. He moved away from the traveling mass of black dragons to curl up into a shivering mass of scales. Serinar looked behind him to find his grandfather with his wings wrapped around him, trembling.

"Gramps?" he called. "You okay over there?"

Neltharion refused to answer.

"Grandpa?" Serinar called again. "Come on! I think I see the light of the forge you were lying in when the Twilight Hammers hammered the elementium plates on. What's the matter?"

He slowly walked over to Neltharion.

"Hey, come on."

"It's too…hard…in here," Neltharion finally was able to speak, but each word was dripping with fear. "Too spiky."

"What the crystals?" Serinar asked. "You love crystals. We had crystals all over the old home in the swamp."

"Not like this," he replied.

"I know this place kinda reminds me of what Therazane's cunt looks like," said Serinar. The black dragon shivered. "Yeah, I see your point. This place looks awful. Maybe we can…you know, put up some drywall. Little curtains. Maybe a pool. Fix the hole in the roof you caused when you blasted out of this place two years ago…I mean when Deathwing did it, whatever. We could turn it into a nice, little cozy place. It just needs some work."

Neltharion stared down upon Serinar, his face still twisted with much distress.

"Don't look at me that way, Gramps," said Serinar. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any of those plush blankets you had in the longhouse. Or the fur pelts. Or that big comfy mattress. I bet it's all ruined by the ocean by now."

Neltharion slumped over, letting loose a pitiful, sorrowful whimper. Serinar sighed deeply and bumped his snout against his grandfather's massively muscular foreleg.

"You don't want to be in here, do you?" he asked.

Neltharion wagged his head.

"You know, for all the bad decisions you've made, Gramps," Serinar began. "This was not one of them. You were right to have us all come down here. This is the safest place for us. We are out of the way of the mess upstairs. We can just relax here in peace. Hopefully Therazane won't try to evict us."

Neltharion nodded as he rose up again, attempting to put on his best brave face. They walked deeper into Stonecore.

He could feel the heat of the heart of Stonecore. It not an inviting warmth, not even to the Great Black who could withstand the heat of the core of Azeroth itself. To him, Stonecore felt cold and forbidding. Too many dark memories of this place, too many boiling inside of his head. It made Neltharion only sicker to look upon the pool of lava that Deathwing forced his body to rest in so the Twilight Hammer Cult could tear off the old, mangled and broken adamantine armor and bolt the more durable, superior elementium armor.

Deathwing delighted in feeling every bolt and nail drilled into his back. He delighted in it even more when he made Neltharion feel every agonizing pierce of metal. Coming back, he could hear the horrible sounds of metal banging upon metal from the mighty, heavy, swinging hammers, ramming the bolt into his sides. Deathwing told them that he screamed because of the pathetic, doomed piece of him that still vied for the Titans, still hoped, still loved, still cherished goodness and civility. And with every hammer-swing, the Cult was destroying the last of it.

Destroying him.

Destroying Neltharion.

He stood there, amid the foundry. Large heavy cranes made from elementium draped over the pool. The sound of roaring lava churning and frothing was the loudest of all, but it was dampened by the memory of sounds echoing through Neltharion's mind.

His mind was not on his flight anymore. He could not hear them call his name. The little whelps crying for their father, not understanding why he suddenly was afraid. The more adult dragons knew, of course, and their hearts ached. Neltharion backed up against the wall, pressing his plates firmly upon the warm surface. Then, his black scales began to meld with the black stone of the vast chamber itself. Piece by piece, he became one with the rock until there was no separation, no where the rock ended and Neltharion began. His head was about to sink in, until Serinar shouted.

"Gramps, don't flip out on us now!"

Neltharion turned his head. Serinar rumbled.

"I think we'll be alright here," he said. "Doesn't look like this place has been in use since two years ago. I think Therazane has been so disgusted with you, with us, that she would not touch the Temple itself. Maybe you should go back to Azeroth and check up on Calia. We're…all worried about her."

"I…I shouldn't abandon any of you," said Neltharion. "That would…wrong for me to do."

"Grandpa, you're in no condition right now to stay here," said Serinar. "You're not quite together. Damn it, if I didn't know any better, I'd say the Earth-Warder is claustrophobic."

"I'm not claustrophobic," said Neltharion. "That's…incredibly silly. I'm just…"

Serinar settled upon his haunches, draping his wings loose over his body.

"You're afraid of this place," he said. "Look at yourself. You are afraid of this place."

Neltharion's lip trembled, fighting a losing battle to keep his tears from flowing.

"I…I don't…I…"

"Go on, go see Calia," said Serinar. "If anything happens down here, we'll let you know."

Neltharion silently nodded in reluctant agreement and then his head finally sank into the wall.

Serinar turned to the others.

"Come on," he said to the other black dragons. "Let's toss these remnants of bad memories into the lava. Tear these machines down and melt the old armor."