Pandaria: Wrath of the Warchief

by CII

(changing the title because I'm cutting the story in half) Neltharion's home in Theramore gets nuked by the Horde. In retaliation, he causes a gigantic ash cloud to cover most of Kalimdor, blocking out the sun and threatening to cause a winter the likes not even the Lich King could create. Complete.

25. XXV

XXV

It was midnight and the mists clung heavily to black foliage of the tall pines. Silver and blue light danced through the shadows. The White Lady and the Blue Child were full once again. Prisms of moonlight filtered through the shimmering, slender crystals dotting the land, rainbows shifted their hues.

Velen could not rest in the silence of the night.

Far beyond the lip of the island, eastward towards the sea, he saw a faint rise of silvery clouds. It was where the Earth-Warder had crashed after his talk with his wife.

All about the Prophet, the lovely gardens his people had maintained were in ruins. The crystals that grew all around the edge of the forest had been melted where Neltharion took off and flew over. His trail marked by ash, smoldering trees, and crackling wood. The rest of the trees were bent, broken by the gush of wind from the Aspect's massive wings.

"Prophet," called a Draenei guard. "The Earth-Warder and the destruction…"

"This was not deliberate," said Velen. "The way he took off. He knew if he stayed any longer, he would cause more damage, even threaten innocent lives. The garden, the park can be rebuilt. But lives can never be replaced."

"You knew that this would happen…"

Velen turned slowly as Vindicator Maraad walked slowly up to him from behind.

"I foresaw it," said Velen. "How fortunate I made the suggestion that they should be left alone to discuss their personal problems. The planet is tied to his emotions, as we had seen from the Cataclysm. The planet split apart because of Deathwing's unrelenting rage. Though if it is true that Deathwing was some parasite, then he must have attacked Neltharion with pain upon pain, agony, sorrow, and the planet responded. They are one, this world and the Earth-Warder. When he is sad, it is said, when he is happy, it is happy. Even if he wanted to prevent the destruction, because he is still not in control of his emotions, he would still have destroyed the park." He dipped his head. "And knowing that he is the cause of this destruction, he beats himself up, inflicting even more sorrow, more depression, more misery upon himself. A cycle of misery. His soul does need healing and I wish I knew how I could possibly heal it."

"If only we all had your grace, Prophet," said the Vindicator as he dipped his head, lowering his eyes.

"Everyone does," said Velen, placing a hand upon his old friend's shoulder. "But not many show it, unfortunately. It takes someone with great strength to even love and understand those we call enemies. But Neltharion is not an enemy. Misunderstood, seeking guidance after living in darkness for so long. This world was not the one he remembers. The one he remembers is a world of peace and tranquility. Perhaps not unlike our world before the Legion came."

His hand slipped as his mind turned towards thoughts he held deeply in a dark place.

"I wish I had not arrived so late," he said. "I wish I was there…he coming to me for help instead of flying to Orgrimmar or Theramore the day Thrall redeemed him. I knew of Deathwing. I knew of what he did to Draenor, helping a misguided Ner'zhul to destroy our new home, but that evil pales in comparison to what we had endured with the Burning Legion for twenty-five thousand years. But when I heard the tales, learned of what he was or what he used to be, what he now tries to be…that a soul could be wrenched from Darkness like that…" Velen looked towards the lights of the moons. "That anyone could be saved. Hope, Maraad, that is what I saw. Hope. There is another way. A part of me wanted there to be another way. But all paths led to death. Kill those who had been cast into Darkness. We have no choice. We believe we are saving their souls when we kill them, but I know we are not. They must be alive to be saved. Redemption cannot be granted with death. We lose them even when they die. We tell ourselves stories that we are giving them mercy. It aches my heart to believe such a lie."

His face darkened, his eyes hiding under the shadow of his white, bushy brows.

"No more of that lie," Velen softly whispered. "All life is precious and it can be spared if we only try. I will try."

"Prophet…" Maraad said with a start, but was swiftly silenced by a clicking sound. The sound itself hastened louder and louder like rain on a tin roof.

Velen's eyes lit up, glowing brighter when heard the sound from one of the workers holding up a strange, yellow, metallic box and a cylinder attached to a black cord, connecting to the box.

The young worker turned to the Prophet an the Vindicator, slowly stepping away from a bulbous, gray, shiny rock.

"What is that?" asked Maraad. "That rock?"

"I believe it came from the Earth-Warder's blood," said the worker. "The Earth-Warder bleeds lava, Vindicator."

"Lava," said Velen. He smoothly walked towards the worker and held out his hand to take the device from her. "That is a particle detector. Why do you have it out?"

"My foreman ordered me to check the crystals," she replied. "The ones created by the Exodar's engines when we crash landed. The cameras showed they had grown since the Earth-Warder's destruction of the park. I was checking for perhaps a leakage around the hull. That was when I discovered the readings coming from the Earth-Warder's blood."

"By the Grace of the Light," Velen gasp as he took hold of the device, reading gauges as they flickered rapidly. "The Earth-Warder's blood is radioactive!"

"This area must be decontaminated immediately," said Maraad. "Before the sickness comes. Workers, done your protective suits! Those who have been exposed, you must get to the decontamination showers! Hurry!"

"Radiation," said Velen. A spark of insight and he held his breath. "That explains it!"

"What?" Maraad asked.

"The dwarves of Ironforge," he replied. "The sickness they felt. Neltharion flew over with his wings alight. The same thing happened with Deathwing's many flyovers. People getting sick because of radiation from Neltharion's blood. Of course. His blood is made of the material of the mantle and core of this planet. The heat is generated by radioactive materials. I wonder if Neltharion even knows about this."

"There were tales of lead poisoning, mercury, and a few others besides the radiation burns," said Maraad. "His entire blood must be filled with heavy metals. It would account for his great weight."

Velen called for his workers' attention: "I want samples of those rocks brought in with proper shielding and feed them into the ship's systems. I want to know what materials are in the rock." He looked to Maraad. "If we know what those materials are, we can properly dispose of them." Then he returned his attention to the workers again. "Have the healers on standby if anyone shows the acute symptoms of either chemical or radioactive poisoning. And get them to the medical bay immediately!"

"With proper decontamination procedures," said Maraad.

Velen knelt down to peer upon one of the lumps of harden lava.

"Don't get too close," said Maraad, holding his hand out.

"There's some yellowing around the rock," he said.

"Sulfur?"

"I am no student of rocks, and neither are you," said Velen. "Nobundo. Send for Farseer Nobundo and a few of our own from the Earthen Ring. They can help with this."

"World Shaman Thrall may be with him," said Maraad.

"He is not of the Horde anymore," said Velen, taking a hint off of Maraad's sharp tone when he mentioned the former Warchief. "And Nobundo respects him. And I respect Nobundo. If he is with our Farseer, then bring him too. Besides, he is the one who brought this world its protector back. Nobundo said they were connected by the heart…"

Velen breathed softly as he turned back towards the east and the still rising steam cloud.

"He must be very…hot," said Maraad. "To produce so much steam."

"He needs to get into the water," said Velen. "Deep…into the cold abyss. It will cool him down, maybe bring his temperature back to…normality."

"What ever that be for a creature like him," said Maraad.

Velen's eyes peered back with slight scorn and concern for what his Vindicator had said.

"I didn't mean to insult," said Maraad, seeing the cold, blue glow of Velen's eyes.

"He may not be life like we are," said Velen. "But he is life nonetheless. I will go to him."

"You can't! He could be dangerous to be around. His blood is radioactive, you could get sick. The minerals of his body are indeed toxic. With him open, venting all that heat, it's not safe, Prophet."

"Then I will watch from afar in an area that is safe," said Velen. "An wait until sunrise."

"Sunrise?"

"Sunrise, the wind has an easterly direction," said Velen. "It will blow the poison over the water. It will be safer to try and help him then. And he needs his body to be healed, those rips closed so that he will not leak anymore of his toxins." He hefted a heavy sigh. "I want to make sure that he understands I am not there to harm him, not here to place blame. I want to let him know that no one was hurt during the incident. If Neltharion learns of this news, he will calm down. It is the distraught of not knowing…wondering if someone he might try to reach out as a friend would spurn him because of an accident. Neltharion must know that we would not do such a thing. He may find himself safe on this island. When he knows that, it will lessen any further damage that could happen."

"I see," said Maraad. "If he isn't upset, he is less likely to spin out of control."

Velen tilted is head: "If that is what you wish to believe, Vindicator, then do so."

"I cannot allow you to go unaided, Holy Prophet."

"I should expect no less."

Gathering a small company, the Prophet made his trek east towards the sea. The closer he came, the smell of the salt and kelp filled his gray-blue nostrils. The chilly, night wind blew his silvery hair about his shoulders.

Pausing just upon a small cliff, Velen at last viewed the ocean. There, lying with the high tide encroaching in, was a dark, mountainous form. Focusing upon the shimmering flair of an eerie blue glow as the waves crashed upon the black form, Velen could see the wings folded tight against the swollen titan. A tail sank into the sand, heavy an immobile. Silvery flashes of elementium armored plates still attached its back, though a few appeared to be warped, others dangling loosely by warped nails. Velen could see the wide cracks along the dragon's sides and the splits etching up the foreleg facing him. The head rested upon its forepaws. Neltharion's great head faced the sea.

Velen was an insightful and empathic being. He could feel the waves of distraught and sorrow radiating out from the Dragon Aspect's form as he laid there alone. A wing twitched and Velen registered the great form seizing up. Shoulders trembled. Steam exploded out from a new crack opening up in the scales. The Prophet, lifted his taloned hand to his face. He could feel the dragon's pain.

"He is…ailing terribly," he whispered.

"Do we approach?" asked one of his guards.

"Not yet," said Velen. He cast his eyes towards the moons, following their slow arc towards the western horizon. "The sun should be rising in three more hours. That is when it shall be safe to approach." He settled himself down upon the sandy cliff and crossed his legs. "I must meditate upon Neltharion's troubles."

§§§

Neltharion rumbled, staring aimlessly out over the waves. The horizon held a green luster and the moons looked sallow yellow for the White Lady and pale color of jade for the Blue Child. He knew exactly where he was, the Emerald Dream. He was truly asleep, not of in some strange vision. Of in the distance, he could see the rim of Kalimdor, Kalimdor as it was before the Sundering, as it is in the Dream itself, before mortals changed it as well.

Here he could at least see the world as it once was even if he could not do anything with it. It was a hazy green what could have been for him, and he longed to have the world return to this tranquil state. His heart quivered, heavy sorrow falling upon his brow. Neltharion curled his body as best as he could.

Though his mind was in the dream, it was aware of the changes going on in the physical world. His body, he could feel the painful cracks of his bones as they started to slowly fill in, compositing for his extensive muscular swelling growth. Neltharion whimpered, his eyes shutting tightly. He heard another crack and his tail's vertebrae descended into the cavity.

His nerves were on fire. His talons were aching.

I want it to stop. I just want it all to stop.

His begging and pleading went unheeded. His body had a mind of its own, becoming more an more alien with every length he gained.

But it could not numb the aching loneliness, the hole in his heart Calia had left behind in her wake. She was not there. No matter where he searched, either here or in the physical world, she was not there.

Droplets ebbed out from the lower rims of his eyelids, leaving his cheeks like trickling waterfalls. Grief held her icy grip upon his heart.

Calia…I want Calia…she can make it stop…

The silence, no matter how far he searched for her, there was the cold silence. Another serge of heat, his black scales cracking open. His insides flare blinding white and steam shot forth. Even in the Dream, his body shimmered with the heat.

Stop it…just stop it. Damn body…why was I given a cursed body? Why was this handed to me? Why, Father? Why did you make me like this? How can I get it to stop?

"Big brother…don't cry anymore…"

Neltharion clinched tighter, tucking his feet under his wings. He could feel inviting warmth of love and compassion for him, caressing his sides. He wanted to relax, but the fear of his body taking over prevented him.

"Big brother."

Slowly, Neltharion opened his eyes and turned to the sweet voice. There, shimmering like an emerald angel was Ysera. Her head lowered, her gossamer wings glistened in the moonlight. He touched her sorrow. It washed over him, allowing him to relax enough to attempt to reach for her. Neltharion snatched his paw back as he felt another snap, his joints setting into their new size.

"I might hurt you, Ysera."

"You will not harm me here," she said. "You know this is just an echo of your true self inside the Dream. Your physical body is still down there."

She moved closer to him, laying her paw upon his.

"I am sorry, Neltharion," she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. "I thought…I could…you…her…I did this. This is all my fault."

"Ysera."

Neltharion lifted his head, blinking the droplets of sweet water away.

"I am sorry," she said. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's not your fault," Neltharion's voice was lost to him as only whispers escaped his lips.

"It is my fault," she said. "I wronged you. This pain you have right now…I was wrong. I thought I knew what you needed and…it all shattered before me."

Shadows of emerald wings filled the sky as members of her flight landed. The other green dragons bowed their heads. Ysera laid her head upon Neltharion's shoulder. The sounds of her sobs only made his heart ache more.

"I did this to you," said Ysera. "I was wrong and I…"

Neltharion shifted slightly, allowing his wing to fold over her smaller form. He curled his neck and nuzzled her gently with his snout, letting go a soft, but comforting croon. The sound reverberated through his great chest, vibrating the ground.

"I just didn't want to lose my brother again," Ysera continued in her hushed whisper.

"Lose me?"

"To Deathwing again," she said. "I don't want him to come back…and take you away again."

Neltharion's tongue licked out across one of her lids to gather up her tears. Ysera returned the gesture, lapping up his tears. A smile twitched across his lips as her tongue tickled his lids.

"I don't want him to ever take you away, Neltharion."

"I'm not going anywhere, little sister," said Neltharion. "I'm…I just…"

"It really was my fault," said Ysera. "Malygos blames himself, but it's my fault!"

"No!" The Great Black nuzzled her, hoping his soft thrums would calm her down. "No, none of this is your fault."

"It is, it all is. Even Deathwing was my fault. I did nothing."

Neltharion pealed himself from her, his eyes scanning her face. She allowed herself to open her eyes, revealing their pale blue glow.

"Deathwing isn't your fault, Ysera," said Neltharion. "Why…why would you say that?"

"I remember seeing your dreams," she said. "So horrible at times. I didn't understand. And I didn't press it. Now your dreams are foul again. Full of pain, sadness, despair, fear. Even anger and hatred. I don't want them to take you again, not like before. I didn't stop it then, but I will stop it now. I was so neglectful not to notice my brother was in pain."

Neltharion's head bowed, the words spilling from Ysera only tightened the frigid sorrow that clutched his heart. He could not bare to hear her blame herself for his mistakes. He leaned up and gently tilted her head with a talon.

"None of it is your fault, little sister," he said. "This is my fault. All of it is. I failed you. I failed Malygos. It isn't his fault! Not yours." Neltharion turned away. "I'm so stupid. All of this is my own fault. Because I'm stupid, I'm selfish. I can't make good decisions. What kind of Aspect am I? I allowed myself to be controlled by the Old Gods, I help break the world twice. Why am I so broken? Why make an idiot an Aspect? Why build me like this? I should give my leadership of my flight to someone else. I'm incompetent. I am going to kill my flight off even more than what Deathwing did to them." His head drooped. "Calia was right. Deathwing was more competent than me. I'm lucky enough that I don't chase my own tail like a confused dog. And what's worse is you and Malygos blaming yourselves for my stupidity. I'm the stupid one. It's my fault I'm stupid! Maybe my body became so hot my brain finally melted."

He plopped down, his head resting on his forelegs.

"Maybe it would have been a better idea if you all killed me."

"No!" Ysera shrieked with horror. "No! No! Don't ever say that, big brother! We need you. Even if the mortals don't know it, they need you too. This world can't live on without you."

Neltharion shut his eyes, feeling his sorrow sting them again, gushing over his legs. Gently, he grazed his tongue across his paws. He felt his sister lean her weight against his neck again. Cool drops of her tears splashed upon his scales, running like little streams between the cracks.

"I don't know what's worse," said Neltharion. "You blaming yourself for my troubles or people blaming me for all theirs." He sniffed, feeling loose moister drip from his snout. "But I do know this. I am a failure. I'm a failure."

"No, you're not," said Ysera. "We failed you. I won't hear it anymore." She again grazed her tongue against him, lapping the water that flowed freely from his eyes. "I promise. When you're asleep and dreaming, I will never leave your side. You won't be alone."

"But the Dream needs the Dreamer."

"You're not always in the Dream," said Ysera. "You weren't for the last week since you arrived at Azuremyst. I was worried. I couldn't find you dreaming. You started doing what Krasus did…and myself. You didn't dream. You were awake even when your eyes were closed. You saw…"

"Visions?" Neltharion asked.

"They come and go," she said. "It was how I saw the Hour of Twilight happening. And that I know it still can happen."

"Then, I have truly done nothing."

"What could we do? We can only keep preventing it."

"I am a failure," Neltharion said, his voice ending with a pitiful wail. "And what's worse, that vision said I…Deathwing…he's going to get what he wants. I don't understand. I got rid of him. He's not cursing me anymore." He stuck his head between his legs, shivering with a pout. "But Deathwing will take control again. Why? Why would he? I don't understand." He closed his forelegs around his snout, muffling his sorrowful noise. "Why…"

"I wish I knew," said Ysera. "But they are still down there. And until we have found a way to be rid of them, they will continue to plot to tear us apart. We must be stronger than them."

Neltharion lifted his head to curl his neck around his sister.

"I don't know if I can," he said. "I've heard him. I've heard N'Zoth again. He…he…played to my emotions. He mocked me. He got me all riled up. I was just ready to curl myself, and cry at the bottom of the ocean where Theramore once stood. But he…he…"

"Told you what you wanted to hear so you could strike against Orgrimmar," said Ysera. "Yes. I have seen the nightmares of the orcs who lived to witness your attack, how you trampled them like ants."

"Nightmare?" Neltharion asked. "The corruption…I thought you got rid of it."

"Just as the Old Gods remain a threat and the Hour of Twilight may be in our future," began Ysera, resting her head upon his elementium neck plates. "The Emerald Nightmare is still apart of my realm. We can only combat it. Right now, we can't stop it, we can only push it back. But I won't let him take you. I will be with you. I will guard you when you sleep and when you dream, dear big brother." Ysera licked him upon the cheek. Her deep rumble began to sooth Neltharion. "You are not alone. I will help you bear whatever burden you have."

Neltharion shifted, relaxing himself.

"Rest, brother," said Ysera. "Rest so when you rise in the morning, you'll feel better."

"I…already feel so weak now."

"I know."

Ysera brushed her talons through Neltharion's long locks, catching the silvery strands in her digits.

"It looks good on you," she said.

"Hmmm?" Neltharion tilted his head.

"The silver," she said. "I like it."

Neltharion tilted his body to lay upon his side as best as his bulk would allow him. He wrapped his foreleg around his little sister and rested his chin on her head.

"Rest, big brother," she whispered. "I'll protect you while you sleep."

Neltharion relaxed as he held his sister in his forelegs, closing his eyes. He allowed himself to softly drift to a peaceful rest even in the Dream. He smiled softly. He could feel the warmth of Ysera's love wrap him up protectively like a fluffy, soothing blanket.

§§§

Velen stood as the sky brightened to a bright purple. The wind picked up all around him. He could see right at the rim of the horizon, an orange glow. The sun was rising. The Prophet began his trek down the side of the sandy cliff. The wind blew across the Black Aspect's body and the steam followed it, flowing over the sea like a misty shroud.

Neltharion's wings shifted. Velen could see the Aspect wiggle his feet. His entourage followed behind him, staying close to the train of his white robes.

"Neltharion," Velen whispered.

The dully glowing orange eye popped open, roving down towards him. The pitch of Neltharion's deep, pained rumble shifted to a higher pitch. The sand around his great form vibrating from the sound. Velen could feel the heat even only a few hundred paces from the dragon. His skin tightened from it. The Prophet turned, hearing the sounds from the particle detectors click with agitation.

"Prophet, if you are going any closer to him, you'll need a suit!" one of his guards called. "Or at least a breather mask. Lead plates to protect your organs."

"Where's the boundary?" he asked.

"Where you are is as close you can get safely," said the other guard. "Without protection. The dosage here is the same for being out in the sun on a clear day. Skin irritation may set in about three hours of exposure. Burns develop following it. And depend on how long you stand there, welts might follow."

"I am well aware of what a sunburn looks like," said Velen. "Or radiation burns. I have treated both."

"I know, sir. With the wind working for us, pushing the…contaminated steam east, the safest we can be around him is five hundred feet from him. Once the wind changes, we will need to get the suits on and move back."

"Then, my friends, time is not on our side," said Velen. "I need to work quickly in seeing if I can get those rips closed. That is where a lot of the toxins are coming from. And he needs to get up and head for the sea. The water will cool him off and protect the rest of us from any further exposure until whatever it is happening to him can come to some halt."

Neltharion slowly and stiffly turned his head. Velen held out his arms, his palms upturned.

"I want to help you, Neltharion," he said. "I want to heal you. Will you allow me to do so?"

Neltharion released a soft, agonized moan.

"I do not blame you," said Velen. "I do not blame you. It was an accident, nothing more. No one was harmed. We are cleaning up the mess. Do not worry."

Neltharion's claws raked across the wet sand.

"I cannot get any closer," he said. "The heat is too great. I want to heal you. Close those rips so you can go into the ocean and cool down."

He saw a teardrop run along the groves of Neltharion's pebbly cheeks. Velen clutched at his heart when he felt a hand, invisible to his eyes, reach out from the dragon to touch his chest. He held this empathic entity, the longing from the Aspect to reach for out for anyone.

"I am here to help you," Velen said.

The Great Black closed his eyes. Velen saw his shoulders falling limp. Then, he heard something behind him, the sound of shifting sand.

"Prophet!" shouted one of his guards. Velen spun around to see a form rise out of the beach. The thing was made from sandstone, spreading large draconic wings. A breath of relief escaped Velen's lips and he held up a hand, commanding his advancing guards to pause. There, standing before him was Neltharion, or rather a sandstone golem that looked like him. Two eyes formed from the azure crystals found all around Azuremyst Isle opened in the sockets of the pale, sandy creature.

"I am sorry," Neltharion said through the golem.

"There is no need for apology, my friend," said Velen. "Because there has been no transgression."

Neltharion dipped his head as Velen clapped a hand upon his shoulder.

"All you broke were a few wires, burn a few trees, and level some stones," said Velen. "Hardly anything equal to the countless worlds I have seen destroyed by Kil'Jaeden in his vein pursuit of my people and I."

As he let his hand drop to his side, Velen took in a deep breath, collecting his thoughts to say what he wanted to say.

"Will you listen to my story, Earth-Warder?" Velen asked.

"Story?" Neltharion asked. He nodded.

"Kil'Jaeden," he began. "One who I called my brother. He acted with feverish hostility towards me. This may be something hard for you to grasp, but because I chose to side with the Naaru, my brothers, my people, my very culture deemed me a traitor. I was an outcast. That is what Draenei means. Exile, shunned. But we wear it like a badge of honor. I saw my world become corrupted, not only through my visions, but in reality. And I feared there was nothing that I could do other than run. I saved only handful of Eredar. Barely a fraction of six billion Eredar that lived on Argus."

A prick of regret reflected in Neltharion's crystalline eyes as Velen recounted his story.

"We are shunned for believing that the promises Sargeras gave us were nothing more than..illusion. They hated us. But I could not hate them. They are misguided. I question as to why my people would be so persuaded easily by Sargeras' talks of power, peace, knowledge of other worlds. In my travels, I asked myself: What went wrong that my own people would want Sargeras' 'gifts'. Was I not a just and wise guide? Were they so unhappy with me that this was the only option they had to correct the mistakes I did? Most importantly was why Archimonde and Kil'Jaeden decided follow? Did they not trust my wisdom either? I asked if I had wronged them besides not believing this benefactor they favored. What did I do? Even worse was I came to realize my own shortcomings. Kil'Jaeden and Archimonde, the Eredar often favored their council over mine. I wondered if I was…an incompetent leader. My weakness failed my people. Worse yet, because of my failures, other worlds had to pay the price for them. Even this one."

Neltharion's eyes became downcast. Velen shook his head gently and lifted the sandstone golem's chin.

"But there is one thing I know. I can never hate them for what they did. I can never hate them nor curse them. I love Kil'jaeden and I will always love him."

A beat and Velen's lips curled in a sadden smile.

"I cannot hold a grudge for twenty-five thousand years, Earth-Warder," he continued somberly. "I saw what holding such vengeful thoughts does to a person. It poisons the heart." Velen breathed softly. "I heard the words of my advisors as we threw ourselves out into the void. They said that the only we could ever meet the Burning Legion and drive them back is to fight them, regardless if we attack our fellow Eradar brothers and sisters. There was no choice, no second option. But I believed perhaps if given the chance, I could save them. I wanted to save my people. I wanted to save my brothers. As the centuries turned, I could feel the doubt and despair build in me. Only killing our own would we ever ensure their…salvation, their redemption. Death was merciful. But I did not want to believe. That hope was almost lost and I gave up on such a foolish dream. That is until you came."

"Me?" Neltharion asked. "What did I do?"

"It is not what you did," said Velen. "It is what you were given. A second chance. Kil'Jaeden and Archimonde were good people, but then they were corrupted. There was nothing I could do to save them. The only way to save them was to kill them. You showed me that is not so. You rekindled the hope that slowly dimmed inside me. Through the actions of others who saved you from darkness, you made the foolish dream into a sanguine reality. I believed again. There is another way. If Deathwing can be turned, so can Kil'Jaeden? So can the billions of Eradar who lived on Argus? I am willing to make that first step in finding the answer. And I thank you. Compassion, faith, and hope is what saved you. And it is the gift you gave me. I want to see if it can work for Kil'Jaeden."

"I…do not know," said Neltharion.

Velen smiled: "It is a learning processes. I am willing to be a student to it. For now, I must heal you…at least enough for you to rise and head out to sea to cool yourself. Your plates are damaged. Some of them are beyond repair. We can reforge some of the broken ones and make them whole again for you."

"I…I don't want them," said Neltharion, shrinking away from the Draenei Prophet.

Velen turned around as he heard a strained growl coming from the looming mass of scales, wings, and elementium plates behind him. The beach rattled. The seas hissed as the water crashed upon the dragon's form, more billowing white steam erupted. The steam glowed with golden light as the rising sun shined its light through the clouds. A crack and another rip opened up, sending forth another rush of tremendous heat fell upon his back. He pivoted back to Neltharion.

"I know that wearing the plates means people would still see you as Deathwing," he said. "That thought troubles you the most. But the plates do serve a purpose, do they not?"

"Holding me…together," said the golem. "Constraining this…terrible curse that has befallen my body since Deathwing…twisted it."

"Then, perhaps removing the armor is unwise for now," said Velen. "There may be a day when you will no longer need them. That day is not this day, though."

Neltharion hefted a gloomy, slow exhale.

"Will you allow me to heal you?" Velen asked.

"Yes," said Neltharion.

"Thank you for trusting me," said Velen.

The golem nodded again. Then, it turned. Velen followed its gaze to find Nobundo climbing down from the cliff.

"It is good to see you, old friend," said Velen.

"I go where I am needed the most," said Nobundo. His eyes came to Neltharion's sandy golem. "Neltharion, do not worry. I have come to ease your pain, and in tern ease the stress of the elementals themselves."

"Where is…Thrall?" Neltharion asked.

"He was unsure of coming," said Nobundo. "Since you've sent him away. He does not know if being here would call you more stress. He is doing what he can to ease the elements at his location."

Neltharion turned away, and Velen could sense the dragon's spirit. It darkened as if it were hurt or betrayed.

"You've been so upset with him," said Nobundo. "He…feels like he has failed you because he does not understand what it truly means to be you. As you told him."

"He doesn't," said Neltharion. "I do not know if he ever will. It isn't easy to just sit there and do nothing. Calia told me her version of Thrall's argument. The one I wanted to hear…her say to him, perhaps. Not to me. I…I…truly don't know what I want anymore." His paw reached up to touch the side of his neck. "I'm tired. Perhaps all that I do is protect…dirt. But without that dirt…where would life be? I am so tired. I just…for once…" The sandy golem tilted his head up as he lowered his paw, looking directly at Velen. "I just wish for someone to understand…not forgive…just understand…me." Neltharion's face bunched up as if the golem itself was about to weep. Though Velen could hear the soft, sobbing sounds coming from the massive, steaming dragon behind him. "I lost so much. I…don't understand myself. I don't know myself. And I don't know why."

"I want to understand you," said Velen. "We do not know each other, have not known each other for long. Perhaps that is what you need. Not someone who knows you and has a preconception of who and what you are, but someone who does not. I have no preconception. I only witnessed the Cataclysm. But I did not ask anyone to go out and fight Deathwing, I asked everyone to help their brother and their sister in their time of need. I want to know who Neltharion is and during the Cataclysm, no one could tell me. I barely even knew when Thrall saved you. And when you came to visit me, I still did not quite know. Perhaps because I did not know what to ask. Yet what little I learned then, answered many of my questions that I had asked those who did not want me to know. You are like me, an outcast. You blame yourself for the wrongs of this world. I blame myself because I was too…feeble to help everyone. I could only save a small few. We believed we both failed, Neltharion."

Neltharion's head dipped.

"Earth-Warder," began Nobundo. "We are all outcasts here. I am…further more an outcast to my people then Velen is because of what the fel mist did to me and others like me."

"Broken," said Neltharion. "Eredar further mutated…by fel energy."

"I have to work even harder than my Draenei brethren to keep my wits about me," said Nobundo. "Or I may fall further…becoming like those Lost Ones we left on Draenor…lost whatever sanity they had."

"Many would call them savages," said Neltharion. "Broken down…even further."

"You are not the only one who says he's broken, Neltharion," said Velen. "And believes it to be so. Nobundo is not broken. Changed, but not broken. Neither are you." He placed his hand upon the golem's shoulder again. "And I did not turn my back on my old friend and vindicator when he needed help, unlike many others who did. I listened. I want to help you, Neltharion. And I want to listen. Your body is not the only thing that needs healing. I want to understand you. Perhaps, you can one day return the favor and help me understand the plight of my brother." The Prophet bowed his head, fighting off a sting of a tear in his eyes. "I love him, Neltharion. No matter what he has done, I still love him. And I have forgiven him, even after all this time."

Neltharion leaned over, lifting his foreleg to the Prophet, scooping him up in a thankful embrace. Velen wrapped his arms around the golem's neck. He felt the golem tremble, hearing the sounds of his anguish escaping from its mouth. Though he felt no moisture dripping upon him. Still, Velen held him close. As he pulled away, he saw a small smile appear upon the sandy golem's face.

"Thank you," Neltharion muffled a broken squeak from his lips, trying to fight back another sob.

"There is one final thing I must say before I can begin," Velen began. "It is important…and it has troubled me since I've met you. I wish to ask you, Neltharion, would you answer a question of mine truthfully?"

"What question?" Neltharion asked.

"I am afraid I am not quite ready to ask it," Velen said. "For now, I do not know how to ask this question and I wish not to cause you anymore stress at this time. I just want to know when I am ready to ask the question, would you answer it for me truthfully?"

Neltharion tilted his head, staring upon Velen with puzzlement. There was silence between them, only the rush of the wind and the crash of the wave made any sound. Then, the Earth-Warder nodded slowly.

"I…will try to answer your question…truthfully, Holy Prophet," he replied. "As best as I can."

"Then, that is all I can ask for," Velen said. "For now. I will know the day when I am ready to ask my question. I hope by that time, it will be the answer I seek."

Velen came to Nobundo.

"My friend, I have been a gracious student to the Earth-Warder just as you have," he said, his voice light, filled with honor. "He has taught me something that I never knew one who wielded shamanic power could teach a priest."

"And what has he…taught?" Nobundo droned slowly.

"Something that will help," said Velen. "A mergence between the healing powers of the Light and the healing powers of water. I cannot do this alone though for I lack his unique skill. But I can ask for no other shaman than you to assist me. If you would please."

"Of course," said Nobundo.

"While the wind is still on our side."

"The Wind is on our side, Prophet," said Nobundo.

Velen nodded, understanding the shaman's meaning. Nobundo held the power of the wind and he commanded it to continue to blow the steam out across the sea despite the sun's arc towards noonday. Nobundo smoothly move his hands and the waves of the sea arched up around the towering mass of the dragon before him. The golem stood aside and gave the shaman room. As Nobundo took hold of the wave, Velen raised his arms. He felt the warmth of the joy of creation filled his heart just as a soft, golden glow appeared around his outstretched hands. The glow intensified, only strengthening this feeling. Velen did not command it to go forth, but asked it softly to bless and to heal the ailing dragon. The Light, hearing his soft prayer, extended out in a shimmering curtain towards the curling wave. The wave and the Light merged into one, a fluid golden mass. Together, the shaman and the priest, their powers joined by this union of joy, pulled the radiant blanket over Neltharion's form. Velen reached out through the Light, through the water, and his essence gently caressed the painful rifts along Neltharion's sides. He touched the muscle, and seeped into the bone. He guided them, weaving them, and then knitted the wounds closed.

The large gashes along the dragon's body slowly began to seal up, at last trapping the heat inside. Velen could feel the uneven structure of Neltharion's bone at last able to fill in the gaps where his muscles swelled. At last, when the task was done, the golden wave crashed down upon the dragon, washing away the last of his pain.

Still, Velen could sense the heat coming from Neltharion. He needed to be cooled and quenched. He watched as the dragon dared to rise upon his shaky, heavily muscled legs. He could tell Neltharion was still not well adjusted to his new size, nor his new girth. The massive paws began to sink into the sand with his great weight pushing down as he rose up.

"I am sorry," Velen called. "I can heal your wounds, but your mobility…"

"It's…fine," said Neltharion's golem. "I am not used to the weight again. I've gained another thousand tons…maybe? I know I've gained another hundred feet or so. This body is strange to me once more…"

"I understand," said Velen. "I will find what I can to by chance mend the armor."

"As you've stated, I do need it," said Neltharion. "Whether or not I want it."

"All things must come slowly in time."

The golem cracked and fell apart, collapsing upon itself into a mound of sand and sandstone. Velen swung back and craned his head towards the titanic Dragon Aspect. Neltharion looked to be struggling to even stand stately, let alone straight. His head hung low, his neck, despite being more muscular and thicker than it once was, could not keep his head upright. Velen could see the strain within the withered lines of the dragon's visage. Though the eyes set within the darkness were no longer smoldering orange, but cool, emerald green.

Neltharion's temperature was cooling down, but he was not yet safe enough to approach. The dragon attempted to spread his wings, though Velen could see he was struggling to do even that. The wings themselves had grown even more massive than they once were, compensating for the new size the Earth-Warder had. He most definitely surpassed Deathwing's Cataclysm size, twice over. Velen felt his heart leap into his chest and he took a step back as digit by digit, Neltharion stretched his black wings. Heat came off of them like a shimmering cloak, distorting even the sun's light above. Neltharion staggered forward, his wings crashing down to his sides. The dragon could not keep them up for long. They trailed behind him like a wrinkled, leathery cape. He lowered to an elbow, closing his eyes tightly.

"I…can't do it," he said, his voice breaking with shame and sorrow. "I can't."

"Please," said Velen. "Try. The sea will cool you off so we can get close enough to help repair the damaged plates. Please, Neltharion. I can't help you anymore than this if you are still to hot to be near."

The dragon said nothing, but nodded. Velen could see Neltharion still struggling to even manage such a simple gesture. Neltharion's lips were parted, his tongue hanging out. Then slowly, the dragon backed away. He turned slowly heading for the horizon. Waves continued to crash along his body as he walked deeper and deeper into the water. Velen stayed, keeping his eyes on Neltharion as the Earth-Warder dove down below the frothy sea, sinking into the deep. He at last took a sigh of relief and then turned back to Nobundo.

"I believe we have a few summons to make," he said.

"Yes," said Nobundo. "I believe so. Who would be the first of those summons?"

"Perhaps Alexstrasza," said Velen. "I wonder if I should involve King Varian in this. But I do not have blacksmiths who know how to work with elementium well, and he does."

"We must be careful in who we ask," said Nobundo. "However, would Neltharion's flight not know how to care for him?"

"Yes, we can do that," said Velen. "Where do we look?"

"Alexstrasza," said Nobundo. "The Wyrmrest Accord has a black dragon ambassador. Siderion, I believe. We can ask him."

"That would be a step in the right direction," said Velen.

"The other is the Earthen Ring," said Nobundo. "As we have devoted our attention to the calming of the elements, we must realize that the Earth-Warder's ties to those elements can make our duties more difficult. Our task at the Maelstrom, thanks to Neltharion's assistance, has done in weeks what would have taken another five years. At last I can honestly say, Prophet, that next week, we can finally leave the Maelstrom. But so long as the Earth-Warder remains emotionally distraught, what we have done will mean nothing."

"The planet is tied to his emotions," said Velen. "As I suspected."

"Unfortunately," said Nobundo. "I know he does not mean a lot of what he does when he becomes upset, but…we cannot have anymore of these 'accidents'. What you saw at the park pales in comparison of what I saw happening at Stranglethorn."

"What happened?"

"Another tsunami," said Nobundo. "One that traveled north…fifty miles in. It was caused by an upheaval of the plate a thousand miles south."

Velen raised his thin hand to his mouth, his lips trembling with the shock of this news.

"And…Booty Bay?" he asked.

"Washed out to sea," said Nobundo. "And half the population with it. The boats there have been ripped to shreds. Another earthquake, its epicenter was the Alterac Mountains. I have sent my shamans there to assess…the event. A third one in the Stonetalon Mountains. It explains the choppy seas this morning. Not enough to produce a tsunami, thank the elements. I suppose the…mountains buffered a lot of the shockwaves."

"This is…most disturbing," said Velen. "All of that from yesterday."

"What precisely upsetted the Earth-Warder, Prophet?" Nobundo asked. "That would cause this level of destruction?"

"Someone…broke his heart," said Velen as he turned somberly away from the sea. "And I have no idea how to mend it."

§§§

Orgrimmar required a lot of repair since the Earth-Warder's attack. They slaved for weeks to repair the damage to the main gate. However, the rail gun would need even further repair. Garrosh knew it was time to start calling upon who owed him back taxes. He paced up and down the grand hall of Grommash Hold. It was the first to be rebuilt since Neltharion had slammed into it. Though the construction continued, Garrosh at least was able to sleep in his own bed for the first time in a long while.

Amid the hanging gas lamps and torches, laid a large map showed together with various colors of leather and lined with sheep pelts. The map itself took up all of the circular floor. Each of the pieces of leather were pieced together in familiar shapes, representing the continents of Kalimdor, Northrend, and the Eastern Kingdoms of Azeroth. At the center was an embroidery of leather thongs in a swirl to represent the Maelstrom. Red X's marked areas where the Horde had witnessed successful victories over their foes.

Theramore and Northwatch were the most prominent.

However, today was not about discussing new battle plans. Garrosh was running out of funds quickly. The ash cloud had left much of his lands of grains devastated. Food was becoming scarce, clean water even more so. Shamans were busy cleaning up the mess left by the Earth-Warder's rampage, priests were busy purifying food and water for the refugees who came flooding in.

The mood in the hall was not very cheerful. Most people huddled in blankets, shivering. A gigantic pit was ignited close to the Warchief's throne, giving warmth to those commuting with the Warchief. Outside, though, Orgrimmar was seeing its very first snow, at the last days of summer.

All this was caused by the Earth-Warder.

Garrosh paced around the enormous map, surrounded by his advisors and his Kor'kron. General Nazgrim stood proud, though it did little to lighten Garrosh's sour mood. His Master of Coin, as it were, a short, sallow green goblin who jingled with bags filled with gold and a little topknot at the top of his crown sat on a silk, tasseled pillow with quill in hand, going over the numbers of debts to be paid by the other main Horde cities across the globe.

"Thunder Bluff, two thousand sixty-three in arrears," he said. "Undercity, five thousand and twenty-two in arrears."

Garrosh's eyes were locked upon him as the Warchief continue to pace the map.

"Silvermoon," the goblin continued. "Over nine thousand…"

"Enough!" Garrosh roared. He stamped his foot, sending a tremble through the loose wooden boards. "The realms will carry their weight or crumble beneath mine!" He pointed to the goblin. "I will take all that I need to rebuild the damage that fat dragon left! Gold or workers, it does not matter!"

He thundered across the map to the goblin. The Master of Coin bowed down, dropping his pen and spilling the ink across the floor, shaken by the Warchief's wrath.

"They have two moons to pay their debts," Garrosh continued. "Make it known!"

"Yes, O Mighty Warchief Hellscream," the simpering goblin said as he swiftly gathered his things and scampered away.

"Nazgrim!" Garrosh boomed again, turning his attention to his general. Then, he continue on a little softer, his voice seemed almost strained. "Lift my spirits with news of victory."

"At once!" General Nazgrim said. He walked out to the center of the map, standing upon the spot of the Maelstrom. "Despite the…setbacks Deathwing accorded us with his…attack upon our fair city…I am please to report the battle goes well, Warchief."

The general pointed down upon the little wooden ships lying about the coastlines of the map. Horde steam-powered dreadnoughts were marked by the little models carrying the Horde banner and Alliance steam-powered dreadnoughts were marked by the models carrying the Alliance banner.

"Our forces report major victories off the coasts of Tanaris and Tol Barad," he said. "However, I do regret that our supply route to Booty Bay had been caught…short."

"How so?" Garrosh asked, his golden eyes seething with anger. He set his jaw and wrinkled his nose.

"A tsunami," said Nazgrim. "Our ships have been found all along the coast, torn to metal bits by the wave."

"How was this tsunami caused?" Garrosh asked.

"The shamans are…pointing at Deathwing for the cause, sir," said Nazgrim.

"The god-damned Earth-Warder again?!" Garrosh bellowed, kicking the wooden boats across the room. One of them toppled into the roaring pit and burned. "First he slaughters my troops as they were returning home from a great victory. Then he curses my land with ash, mudslides, famine, and makes the last days of summer, the hottest days of the year turn frigid as if we were in Northrend. It's snowing outside! Then to add further insult, he destroys the Valley of Strength, tears down the Gates of Orgrimmar, murders more of my orcs, and now, he spits on my victories with a tsunami?!"

"They shamans say that it is obvious Neltharion wishes to make it clear, Warchief," Nazgrim began. "That Azeroth does not belong to you."

"I DON'T CARE WHAT THE SHAMANS SAY!" Garrosh roared, causing those who heard him draw back into the shadows. "That bloated lizard freak will not stand in my way."

"Then, perhaps," began Nazgrim. "We should look to other ways of getting around the Earth-Warder's…attacks."

"How?" asked Garrosh. "How do we do that, General? I have tried to use the Twilight Hammers skills in blinding his Seismic Sight, but he found a way to see despite that. I destroy the city he was housed in, and he commanded the world to open its great maw and swallow my troops. My rail gun couldn't take him down. He got back up and kept charging no matter how many times I fired it. There is NOTHING I can do to stop that monster! He will just keep coming. It doesn't matter what part of the world I am in, Neltharion's reach is everywhere!" He straightened his back, allowing his rage to turn inward. "There is nowhere I can go, Nazgrim. No where I can be safe…except Outland. And even then…I would be a coward for running from him. It is as he said that day to me, when he first came crashing into Orgrimmar two years ago, he is making this world reject me…like a host rejecting a parasite. There must be something in this world that can stop him."

"I bet there are things the Earth-Warder does not know, Warchief," began Nazgrim.

"And you would be losing that bet, General," said Garrosh as he sat upon his throne. "But humor me anyways."

"A land," said Nazgrim. "A land beyond the mists towards the south pole. The mists are magical, so the old sailors' tales say. The mists seem to devour all who enter them or…send them away as soon as they came. There were old tales of a land in the mists, a continent, towards the south that broke off when Old Kalimdor sundered ten thousand years ago."

"Caused by the Well of Eternity and the Earth-Warder's little trinket," said Garrosh. "Yes, I know the story. Even ten thousand years ago, Neltharion makes things difficult for us. Puts a giant ocean in the middle of the world, and a swirling vortex to trap anyone who dares to sail it."

"This land may hold secrets that we can use against the Earth-Warder," said Nazgrim.

"I am listening," said Garrosh.

"Something happened," said Nazgrim. "One of our cargo ships making for Booty Bay when the tsunami hit, did not wash upon the shore, but out to sea…south…through the mists."

The general turned around to find another goblin come hobbling in.

"Speak to the Warchief your news, goblin," said Nazgrim.

"Yes, sir," he sniveled as he shuffled closer to Garrosh.

"What do you have to report?" Garrosh asked as he stood up from his throne.

"The wave…it threw the ship out to sea, further and further from Booty Bay, south, sir," said the goblin. "That was when we lost radio contact with it. It was…caught in a storm…the strange mists that lie at the southern sea closer to the…pole itself. We…always thought there was nothing in there…but…we were wrong." He lifted his hands up, writhing them together nervously before the Warchief. "After three days of radio silence, the ship finally answered. They found a solitary Alliance ship, also washed out to sea…ran-a-ground…on a sharp rock. And land. What we found, this Alliance ship was carrying something…important. It looked to be a flagship…" He swallowed hard. "We did not know what it was carrying, but the Alliance had gotten to this new land to the south first."

"You let the Alliance mark this land before me?" Garrosh asked as he snatched the goblin up from the floor. "Unacceptable!"

His fury finally at its peak and Garrosh held the goblin by his head. His great hand closed in, cracking the bones in the goblins skull, watching as the goblin's eyes bulged out. The goblins hands flailed, one trying to grasp Garrosh's large forearm, hoping to pull away. Inky red blood slowly seeped from a nostril. One final push and the skull cracked, the eyes rolled back, blank and dead. Garrosh roared again and tossed the corpse to the other side of the room like a limp rag doll.

"I will not accept anymore failures!" he thundered.

"With all due respect, Warchief," Nazgrim said, raising his hands.

Garrosh turned back, his eyes wild, and breathing heavily. His lips trembling and his heart thumped in his chest.

"What's done is done," said Nazgrim. "We must now focus on where we must proceed next."

"Next?" Garrosh asked. "I shall tell you how we shall proceed next, General. You will round up your best warriors and find my ship!" He came closer to the general, leaning down, locking his golden eyes to Nazgrim's brown ones. "And if you do come across this land where the Earth-Warder appears to have no hold upon, then you will take it in the name of the Horde and paint its shores red with the blood of Alliance soldiers!"

§§§

I'm waking up,

I feel it in my bones

Enough to make my systems blow

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive

I'm waking up to ash and dust

I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust

I'm breathing in the chemicals

I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus

This is it, the apocalypse

Whoa

I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones

Enough to make my systems blow

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive

I raise my flags, don my clothes

It's a revolution, I suppose

We'll paint it red to fit right in

Whoa

I'm breaking in, shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus

This is it, the apocalypse

Whoa

I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones

Enough to make my systems blow

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive

All systems go, the sun hasn't died

Deep in my bones, straight from inside

I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones

Enough to make my systems blow

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I'm radioactive, radioactive

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons