Dawn of the Aspects: Part II (2 page)

Kalec . . .

He was jolted. The second calling of his name had not been done by Anveena but by
Jaina
. It was enough to bring him back to consciousness.

Kalec wrenched himself away from the artifact. He was covered in sweat. He also noticed that, as in the dream, he had
hands
, not paws. At some point, Kalec had changed shape without even noticing it.

At that moment, Kalec felt the presence of another blue dragon. Somehow, the knowledge that he was no longer alone in the Nexus enabled him to pull himself together. Whirling away from the artifact, Kalec left the chamber to see who had returned and why.

It was not until he was nearly at one of the entrances that he saw movement. Kalec marched toward the newcomer without saying a word.

The smaller blue dragon—a female—had her back toward him. Kalec hesitated. “Tyri?”

The female turned, but she was not the one he had thought her to be. The former Aspect silently berated himself for expecting to see the female blue to whom he had once been promised.

The blue before him stared at Kalec as if seeing an orc. He recalled his transformation; although they were creatures of magic, blues generally retained their dragon forms when in the Nexus.

“Spell-Weaver,” she finally acknowledged. “I thought you were away.”

This time ignoring the use of a title no longer his, Kalec resumed his draconic shape. Now peering down on her, Kalec could not help blurting, “And you hoped to be about your business and depart before I returned?”

She looked as aghast as a dragon could. “No . . . no, Spell-Weaver! In truth, I am pleased you are here. I wanted to tell you of an anomaly I sensed near the Dragonblight recently, very near Wyrmrest Temple—”

Kalec knew immediately that she referred to the artifact's stirring. “I know of it. There's nothing to concern yourself about.”

The female looked slightly embarrassed. “I should have known that you would be aware of it.”

That should have been the end of it, but the other blue dragon simply remained where she was, looking vastly uncomfortable.

Kalec made an assumption about what ran through her mind. “I am grateful for your concern. You were on your way somewhere else, though, weren't you?”

“Yes. I thought I would explore—”

He let her get no further. “Then, by all means, you should continue on. Again, you have my thanks for coming back to give warning.”

She gave him another uncomfortable look, then, bowing her head, departed.

Kalec paused in thought for a moment and turned from the entrance—just in time to catch a glimpse of a shadowed figure the size of a night elf or a tall human in the darkened passage from which he had only just come.

The dragon surged forward, moving with more than enough swiftness to catch up with any intruder. However, even though he reached an area where the long passage would have prevented anyone from hiding or escaping into a side tunnel, there was no one. Kalec probed the area with magic, but there was definitely no trace of another.

Only as that knowledge sank in did the blue also see better in his mind just what that intruder had looked like beyond his mere height. The image that formed made Kalec certain that his sanity was indeed crumbling, and crumbling fast.

It was the same cloaked and hooded figure from the visions.

TWO

THE GATHERING

Kalec did not try to deny what he had seen. It had been either the product of his overstressed imagination or some new facet of the artifact's magic. Neither was a pleasant alternative. The first was an indication of just how unstable he might already be; if it was the second, it meant that the accursed object likely had some new game it wished to play with him.

He chose to consider it the latter and immediately raced back to where he had left the relic.

Unfortunately, the darkness caught him first, sending the blue tumbling against the passage walls. As great fragments of stone showered Kalec, the dragon—already barely conscious—pitched forward halfway to his sanctum.

But even before his body struck the floor, his mind found itself soaring in the sky. Kalec was once again a part of Malygos, but this was a Malygos much more subdued, much more driven.

In the distance, a thundering roar that could only have erupted from the jaws of Galakrond shook Kalec and his host. Fortunately, as the roar trailed off, its fading made it evident that the gargantuan proto-dragon was headed in a different direction.

Malygos pushed on, his thoughts so buried by his urgency that Kalec had trouble ferreting anything out. Kalec saw glimpses of Alexstrasza and Ysera, a handful of proto-dragons of the same family as Malygos, and flashes of Neltharion fighting something that was too small to be Galakrond. After much delving, Kalec discovered that at least one of the memories involved Malygos staving off an undead proto-dragon with faded red coloring.

Kalec remembered the earlier struggle and knew that there had been no red proto-dragon other than Alexstrasza. For a moment, he feared that she had perished at some point and risen as an undead, as other corpses had, but then he realized that could obviously not be the case.

Yet . . . even if the undead proto-dragon had not been Alexstrasza, it still meant that once again, the dead had risen. Kalec did not know why, but he was certain that somehow the answer would be found with Galakrond.

It was something, he sensed a moment later, that Malygos also believed. Indeed, Kalec finally learned that Malygos had only just fled—
fled
—from the undead. There had been more than the one. There had been seven. Worse, Malygos had not been alone. He had been accompanied by two of his proto-dragon family.

They
had not escaped.

Guilt washed over Malygos, and Kalec understood that he felt he should have stayed. Yet it was clear from what glimpses Kalec had of his host's memories that Malygos had only fled after the other two had been lost already.

Curiously—and most worryingly to Kalec—his host had blocked out all thought of just how the other two had perished.

There was no sign of any other proto-dragon along Malygos's path. While that meant little to Kalec at first, he gradually sensed Malygos's concern about this point.

It was with relief to both that another winged figure came into view a few minutes later. Neltharion still radiated a bit of his bluster, but even he watched the air around them with the utmost caution.

“Friend Malygos! Ha! You did come! We survive! We are fighters!”

Despite his bravado, Neltharion's tone hinted at relief that Malygos still lived. Kalec wondered how many others had not survived.

What is going on here?
Kalec asked, although, of course, no one could hear him. Dragon legend said nothing of this evidently critical time period for the proto-dragons. The age of the dragons had yet to come, but with Malygos and the other future Aspects alive, that shift from proto-dragon to dragon dominance had to be imminent. Yet what Kalec had witnessed thus far pointed toward extinction for all. Even a true dragon could not stand against a horror like Galakrond.

“The others?” queried Malygos.

“The fire one, she is well. The little sister, she barks much.” Neltharion paused, then less brashly added, “Zorix . . . he was taken.”

In Malygos's mind, there appeared the image of a male proto-dragon with darting eyes and a shining golden hide. Even though Kalec had not seen this male before, both Malygos and Neltharion apparently had known him for part of whatever period of time had passed since the last vision. His loss disturbed the blue's host immensely.

“Talonixa speaks as him. Talonixa speaks too well as him.”

Of this Talonixa, Kalec only sensed that she had been Zorix's mate and was a female proto-dragon of strong will. Among those proto-dragons who had made the sudden leap to intelligence, she was evidently considered one of the most cunning.

But for all that apparent cunning, Kalec's host did not have the greatest trust in Talonixa. It had nothing to do with her being a female—Alexstrasza's quick wits and courage had already raised her high in Malygos's eyes—but he considered other aspects of her manner dangerous. More, Kalec could not divine at the moment.

Neltharion's eyes narrowed. He looked past Malygos. The other proto-dragon quickly followed his companion's gaze but saw only empty sky.

The gray male exhaled. “Nothing. Not him. Not them.”

A shudder ran through Malygos, but Kalec's host blocked out all thought of what caused it. “The others gather?”

“Yes. Follow.”

Both proto-dragons flew hard and fast, as if Galakrond himself snapped at their tails. Kalec became caught up in their urgency even though he knew only half of what was happening, at most.

Malygos continually glanced around, often focusing on the ground far below. Gradually, Kalec understood what bothered Malygos about the landscape. It was devoid of any visible animal life except for a few birds. No large beasts roamed any of the places over which the proto-dragons flew.

Eyeing Neltharion, Malygos asked, “We are close?”

“More to fly. Other roost fell.”

It took Kalec a moment to decipher the last. Whatever previous site the proto-dragons had chosen to gather at had become too dangerous. They had been forced to move farther on.

A rumble from some distance behind stirred up both flyers. The gray proto-dragon glanced back. Malygos instinctively followed suit. There was no sign of Galakrond, but even Kalec was aware that the gigantic fiend could cover tremendous distances in the blink of an eye.

Hissing in frustration, Malygos started to turn his gaze back to the path ahead. Four winged forms coming from the north caught his attention. Eyes narrowed, Malygos studied the oncoming proto-dragons. “Others,” he warned Neltharion.

His companion stared at the newcomers. “No one is north. North is bad.”

Malygos hissed again. “Yes . . .”

The four proto-dragons drew near enough for some details to become evident. To Kalec's relief, though, they were not what he expected. These were living, breathing proto-dragons.

But Malygos was not at all pleased, and Kalec quickly saw why. At the head of the formation flew a familiar blue-green proto-dragon. Coros. Kalec also recognized one of the others who had joined in the first attack on Malygos.

With a sneer at the four, Neltharion rumbled, “This fight, I like.”

To both the gray's and Kalec's surprise, Malygos shook his head. “We fight the not-living. We fight Galakrond. Not one another.”

“Hmmph! Coros know that?”

The other proto-dragons slowed as they approached the pair. Coros surveyed Malygos and Neltharion. “You live. Good!”

“Yes,” returned Kalec's host calmly. “We live, and that is good. Coros also lives . . . and that is good, too. No fights between us. Fight only Galakrond, yes?”

Malygos's rival dipped his head as if taking the sentiment to heart. The sly grin ever remained in place, though. Both knew that only the dire circumstances kept them from concluding their bloody feud.

“The north is not good!” interjected an impatient Neltharion. He looked disappointed that there would not be a fight. “Coros should not be north.”

“We scout. Talonixa asked.”

“Talonixa?” Malygos repeated with some trepidation. “Why?”

“Talonixa plans!”

The icy-blue male refrained from snorting, although it took a struggle to do so. Kalec felt Malygos's growing concern over the female's overwhelming command of the other proto-dragons. Talonixa's kind were headstrong, impulsive, but also dominating. It was not a combination for which either Malygos or Kalec cared, especially now.

“The north,” Malygos finally said. “Danger?”

To Kalec, who could do nothing but observe, the grin only grew slyer. “No danger. Coros too clever for stupid not-living.”

This was not the first time Kalec had heard the unsettling term used, and despite his own predicament, that concerned him.
How many of those moving corpses are there? How many?

More important, Kalec wondered just
how
they had come into being. In his own time, he lived in a world where, with the exception of the Forsaken—who had sworn their allegiance to the Horde—the undead were a not-uncommon menace, destroyed on sight whenever possible. Yet in such an early era in Azeroth's history, he had hardly expected to hear of such horrors.

“Too much talk!” Neltharion growled. “We all go!”

Coros did not argue, instead immediately veering past the duo. His comrades, all of the same family, followed without any further glance at the gray or Malygos.

“We fly faster?” Neltharion quietly asked Kalec's host.

Malygos nodded. “Yes. Faster.”

And with that, they shot past a startled Coros and the rest. As Malygos pushed, he and Kalec heard Coros's angry hiss.

Kalec was not at all surprised to see that proto-dragons shared more than one trait with dragons. Among dragons, racing had always been a popular competition.

Malygos peered over his shoulder to see Coros and the others trying their best to catch up. However, Malygos and Neltharion set an astounding pace. Kalec could scarcely believe his host still had such strength, then sensed that Malygos had embraced the suggestion not only because of his disdain for Coros but also so that for a short time, the blue-and-white male could focus less on the horrors unleashed upon his world.

Despite the strain, Malygos continued to fly right alongside Neltharion and several lengths ahead of his rival. Try as he might, Coros could not catch up, although he did soon leave his other companions far behind.

It occurred to Kalec, only too late, that spread out as they were, the six proto-dragons made a much more visible target, but fortunately, nothing happened. Still, he felt Malygos also relieved to arrive finally at a bowl-shaped valley where in the shadows it soon became apparent that scores upon scores of proto-dragons warily gathered.

The valley echoed with hisses as the newcomers descended, but not all of the reactions focused on the arrivals. There were members of nearly every proto-dragon family of which Malygos was aware, plus a few that Kalec's host did not recognize. Many were not by nature or by attitude on friendly terms with one another. Only the disaster sweeping over their world forced them now at least to
pretend
to be allies.

The tension was also magnified by the presence of many of the lesser—as Malygos thought them—proto-dragons, those that were essentially little more than animals. They had to be constantly herded or guarded by their more intelligent brethren. For Kalec, it set into stark relief the curious rise of those of Malygos's generation.

A throaty, harsh hiss rose above the din. It cut off the rest. Malygos followed the hiss to its source.

Talonixa dominated not only in voice but also in size and presence. She was a third again as large as most of the males, only a few, such as Neltharion, outweighing her. Her smooth hide glittered gold even under the overcast sky. Talonixa had sharp, gleaming black eyes that, when fixed upon individual proto-dragons, subdued even the most restive.

Malygos and Neltharion moved to where Alexstrasza and Ysera perched. Unlike many of the other proto-dragons, the sisters had kept to themselves and not their family. Some of Malygos's family stared at his choice of companions, but there seemed no surprise on the part of Neltharion's family that he chose such odd friends. In fact, Kalec thought that its members looked a little relieved not to have to concern themselves with the brash gray.

Coros alighted a short distance to Talonixa's left. He was obviously out of breath but did his best to pretend he was as calm as Malygos.

“More have come!” Talonixa roared. “We are many! Say it! We are many!”

A chorus of proto-dragon voices repeated her litany over and over. Kalec shared Malygos's frustration with the proto-dragons now risking their hiding place as they followed Talonixa's lead. Strength was important, but common sense was something obviously not shared by all.

“She talks fighting,” Ysera muttered. “Not good. Peace is better.”

Although looking as disappointed as her sister, Alexstrasza disagreed. “We must fight . . . but not fight like Talonixa.”

“We fight . . . we die!”

As the two females argued, Coros slid up to Talonixa and whispered to her. This snared Malygos's attention. He strained to hear anything but could not. Kalec was also frustrated; he did not trust Coros any more than his host did.

Talonixa listened intently, then dismissed Coros with a short hiss. He moved back to his previous position, seeming satisfied with whatever he had passed on to the larger proto-dragon.

“North is empty!” she proclaimed. “No not-living! Galakrond's trail is also found!”

Most of the other proto-dragons welcomed this news with nods and low hisses. Yet there were several who did not take the information with much pleasure. Malygos radiated a certain satisfaction with this as he studied some of the hesitant ones.

He focused on one in particular, but it was Kalec who first recognized the male with the coarse brown hide as the one who had aided both Malygos and Neltharion during the confrontation with Galakrond. The brown male looked particularly perturbed by Talonixa's declarations and the other proto-dragons' willing submission to her. He turned away, only to meet Malygos's gaze.