Dawn of the Aspects: Part II (4 page)

Yet another attacker might have suffered the same ghastly fate, if not for Neltharion dropping down on the undead just as it was about to unleash a blast. The future Deathwing seized the corpse's head with both hind paws and ripped it clean off. A small gush of the deadly gas poured forth from the open neck but touched no one. The charcoal-gray proto-dragon roared with laughter as he tossed away the head and began to rip into the torso, which continued to fly in a haphazard circle.

Malygos shook his head at his friend's enthusiasm. For Kalec's host, the sooner this ended, the better. He had no love for what they were doing. Like Alexstrasza and Ysera, Malygos still saw the living in the faces of these abominations. These were victims, too. They had to be destroyed, but there was little reason to take joy in the effort.

Talonixa struck the last blow, exhaling hard at a lone undead. The bolt of lightning she unleashed set the dry flesh ablaze. The animated corpse managed to stay aloft, but a second bolt shattered the already crumbling body, sending ashes scattering everywhere.

With the destruction of her foe, the huge golden female roared triumphantly. Her cry was taken up by many of the others, causing Malygos to wince as he thought of how loud they were. It had been in part their cries that were used in the first place to help lure these not-living to them. Malygos marveled that Talonixa and her supporters did not think this through, but he knew better than to try to speak the truth. Talonixa did not abide those who did not agree with her and had already scarred a copper male in the face for questioning her. She also had several zealous followers willing to do worse to any other naysayers.

For now, the sisters, Neltharion, and Kalec's host were going along with Talonixa's decisions while they argued over what better choice to make. What that choice might be, none of them had as yet been able to suggest, and all knew that time was quickly running out.

Kalec could also see the disaster looming and did not think this brief triumph foreshadowed the same against Galakrond any more than Malygos did. Kalec silently railed at his own defenselessness in the matter, and at that moment, he realized that he felt more attuned to these ancient events than to his own troubles in the present.

This is not right
, Kalec thought.
This is a reflection of the past. It's done! The future is the only battle left to be fought!

But still, Kalec felt as much a part of this small band of proto-dragons as Malygos was. When Alexstrasza and Ysera spoke to his host, it was as if they spoke to
Kalec
. Even more surprising, when Neltharion stood at Malygos's side, fighting along with him as any true friend and comrade would, Kalec experienced the
same
kinship Malygos had developed with the charcoal-gray male.

Kinship with Deathwing . . . and through a host who would someday become almost as much of a threat to Azeroth. The notion shook Kalec, and he railed anew at what had happened to him, hoping that somehow he could return to his own time and body.

Young Malygos, ever ignorant of Kalec's plight, was more concerned with his friend. He noted Ysera rapidly descending into the canyon, her flight path somewhat erratic. Seeing no sign of Alexstrasza, Malygos chose to follow the yellowish female himself.

With what was obvious effort, Ysera alighted just a few yards above the bottom. The scorched, torn remnants of undead lay scattered below her. As Malygos dropped near her, he saw that Ysera's breathing had become labored. Within Malygos, Kalec—his own distress momentarily forgotten—shared his host's concern for the other proto-dragon.

Ysera did not notice Malygos until he was almost upon her. Even then, she only looked up at him with sullen eyes, then continued her efforts to regain her breath.

The icy male landed beside her but did not speak. Observing Ysera, Malygos noted her gaze drifting from one ripped piece of dry flesh to another. Neither Malygos nor Kalec could make sense of her observations; the fragments were from a variety of families, including both Malygos's and Neltharion's but not, upon closer inspection, Ysera's.

“Not here . . .” she finally murmured as her breathing calmed. “Not here . . .”

After a moment, Malygos asked, “Who?”

“Dralad.”

The name meant nothing to either Kalec or his host. Malygos waited, and both were rewarded a few breaths later as Ysera clarified. “Clutch brother . . .”

Malygos hissed low, then muttered, “He is dead.”

“These were, too.”

That had occurred to both Malygos and Kalec, but not what Ysera was implying.

“Saw body,” Malygos offered.

She looked up at the male, her gaze steady and demanding. “Not burned by my sister. You destroy it?”

Malygos shook his head. There had been no thought of destroying the dead at that point. Even though this generation had seen proto-dragons leap to a level of intelligence far in advance of anything they had developed before, the notion of a proper burial was not something the creatures had yet conceived. Even dragons, Kalec knew, simply preferred to come to their final rest near the temple.

And, oddly, near
Galakrond
.

“Watched every not-living,” Ysera went on, stretching her wings. She looked recovered from her bout, although she was clearly still somewhat weary. “Not found. Not found.”

“His body—”

“Not there!” the female snapped. Then, looking more tired again, she shrugged off their conversation and took to the air.

Kalec's host watched as she ascended. What he recalled of that discovery had made him believe that Ysera's clutch brother had not risen as so many others had. Other early victims had remained dead. Alexstrasza had no doubt said something to that effect to her sister, but Ysera's own search and its lack of success bothered Malygos . . . and Kalec. Was it possible that the older dead were also rising? If so, then the threat to the living proto-dragons was far worse than they had imagined.

Malygos shook his head, far too many thoughts assailing him. He was still a proto-dragon, no matter how clever he had always regarded himself to be. That he believed Alexstrasza would have been just as pressed by all these concerns did not make Malygos feel any better. Kalec, with so much going on in the present but now trapped in this vision of the past, could again easily sympathize—

A low, barely audible hiss from the southern end of the canyon drew Malygos's attention. It was so short that neither the proto-dragon nor Kalec was certain that he had heard it, and yet Kalec, at least, knew that both
had.

Keeping low, Malygos cautiously crawled south. His eyes darted to every shadow, observed every large shape, be it the remains of an animated corpse or what simply proved to be a rock. He listened carefully for a repeat of the hiss but heard only the wind coursing through the canyon, a sound
both
knew was not the same one heard earlier.

Possible answers ran through the proto-dragon's mind as he moved. A not-living that had managed to hide from the hunters? But these corpses did not hide. They only knew their relentless hunger and thus ever searched for prey; they did not run away from it. Another potential source for the sound was an injured member among the attackers. This made more sense, but why had no one noticed the wounded fighter missing?

Kalec watched with Malygos but saw nothing. He questioned the wisdom of the proto-dragon's determination to find the noise, but there was no stopping Malygos.

Shadows filled the area ahead. Malygos paused, then plunged into the darkness. His eyes began to adjust to the change in lighting—

Something touched Malygos on the back.

The proto-dragon's head twisted around. Both he and Kalec caught sight of a smaller, flowing figure.

Malygos hissed as his head suddenly pounded. For Kalec, though, it was as if all the thunder that had ever raged over Azeroth gathered for one fantastic storm. Had he paws of his own, Kalec would have clamped them against his ears. As it was, he could only roar as the pounding rose beyond bearing—

And for once, Kalec was grateful when darkness finally claimed him.

FOUR

SHIFTING REALITIES

Once again, Kalec woke covered in sweat and gasping for air. He also again woke in his half-elven form. Those things did not surprise him as much as what he saw when his eyes finally focused enough to see his surroundings.

It was, as far as he could ascertain, the same canyon in which he had just left young Malygos.

Rubbing his eyes, Kalec looked again at the rocky landscape. There were many changes, yet somehow Kalec was certain that this was indeed the same location.

And the fact that he was so certain also bothered him. Kalec had visited hundreds and hundreds of places during his lifetime, and while some, such as the Sunwell Plateau—where he had last seen Anveena—and the Nexus, were obviously memorable to him, there was no reason he should be so certain that this was the same place. True, Kalec had just visited it through Malygos a few moments ago—assuming it
was
only a few moments ago—but countless millennia had passed since the proto-dragon had actually been there, and in that time, nature and possibly other factors had remade the canyon over and over.

Yet Kalec could have sworn on his own life that this was the same place.

He spun, expecting to find the accursed artifact on the ground next to him. While it surprised him not to see it, he also had no doubt that it was responsible for this little incident, too.

What devilishness are you up to now?
Kalec demanded of the unseen relic. He did not expect an answer, of course. He expected only more questions, only more mysteries. Only more madness.

The calm, almost detached attitude that he had developed while part of the past had once again vanished with his return to the present. Now all the stresses struck Kalec so hard that he abruptly drove his fist into a nearby rock wall. Had he not also instinctively shielded that fist, it would have been his bones, rather than the wall, that cracked. As it was, the shattering rock still splattered him in the face, making the former Aspect step back in surprise.

And only then did he see the footprints in the hard soil.

A hundred thousand beasts and a fair number of sentient beings had no doubt traveled through this canyon during the vast length of time since Kalec's previous sojourn, and these prints could have belonged to any of those, but once more, Kalec knew that these were not random footprints. The first ones were those of some fairly giant creature of a reptilian appearance: a proto-dragon. They came from the same direction from which Malygos had come in those last moments before Kalec had been thrust back to his own time and form. He even recognized places where the proto-dragon had paused before the barely seen flowing shape had fallen upon them.

Thinking about that other figure, the former Aspect turned his attention to another set of prints a little behind those he was certain were Malygos's. Smaller prints. The prints of a booted or sandaled two-legged form such as an elf or a human.

It brought to mind the cloaked and hooded shape that Kalec had caught a brief view of more than once, a being somehow tied to the artifact.

As the blue studied the footprints, he noticed that they went on beyond those of Malygos. Despite the ages, Kalec found it easy to follow them for as far as he could see. They continued on to the south, each step seemingly seared into the rock just for his benefit.

With a bit of trepidation but even more determination to find
some
answers, Kalec traced the footprints. They quickly moved beyond those marking where Malygos had stood. Kalec wondered what had happened at that point. Had the proto-dragon turned? Had he discovered whatever it was Kalec now headed toward?

That he was still concerned for what had happened so long ago frustrated Kalec. All that should have mattered was to find some escape from the artifact's incessant intrusions into his mind before it destroyed his already wavering sanity.

Kalec did not know why he had transformed into his current shape, but at the moment, he found it comforting despite having to climb over several parts of the rocky path. He had spent so much of his recent past in his humanoid guise, especially when he was with Anveena or, of late, when dealing with Jaina. Once, when he had known Alexstrasza's legendary consort, Korialstrasz, Kalec had wondered why the crimson male had spent so much time in a humanoid form, pretending to be the wizard Krasus. Now Kalec no longer questioned that preference.

The path led into a shadowed region that reminded him that much of the area through which he had tracked had also once been shielded from the sun. Yet, despite the obvious upheaval needed to bring down so much rock, either the prints had remained uncovered, or someone had taken time to clear the rubble away.

Before he could follow that line of thought, the trail turned toward the rock face to his left. Kalec frowned, then saw a narrow cut in the rock, an opening just wide enough for him to slip into in his present form.

For some reason, he did not think that a coincidence.

The slit proved even narrower than Kalec first calculated, forcing him to wriggle to get through. The darkness within stirred uncomfortable memories of the utter blackness that overcame him almost every time he slipped from reality to the visions and back again. Kalec shivered but pressed a few steps deeper before finally summoning a glowing sphere.

In its purple light, the withered visage of a proto-dragon glared down at him.

Kalec flung himself to the side, at the same time sending the sphere at the looming monster. The former Spell-Weaver's efforts changed the simple illumination spell into a full attack. The sphere exploded as it hit the proto-dragon's chest, searing into the dry flesh.

A musky scent assailed Kalec as the magical energy burned into the proto-dragon. The former Aspect summoned a new and larger sphere, fully revealing the cave's interior.

More than a dozen additional proto-dragons, all as withered, peered at Kalec. He readied a potent spell, then paused when he realized that neither they nor the one he had attacked had thus far moved.

These were
not
, he finally recognized, the undead that Malygos and the others had fought. They were merely dead proto-dragons.

Merely? As Kalec observed them closer, he saw differences. Each of these proto-dragons was in some way misshapen. Yet it did not look as if those defects were the results of something that had happened in the egg. Kalec eyed one proto-dragon who appeared to have a fifth limb starting to grow out of his side. Another had a third eye just above her right shoulder.

What sort of macabre display is this?
Kalec stared at the group and saw that each also bore some injury. As he studied one corpse after another, he saw that those injuries had certainly impaired these proto-dragons, if not killed them outright. Moreover, the former Aspect saw that the dead actually lay sprawled against one another, as if they had been gathered in haste.

Kalec paused again. It was clear to him that he had been steered to this place by the relic or whatever power it served, but what was he supposed to learn from this grotesque spectacle?

A creaking sound set his nerves on edge and made him summon yet another spell. He turned to find the first proto-dragon tumbling forward, the damage done by the altered sphere too much for him to maintain his stability. The towering corpse struck the rocky floor and broke into pieces.

The head rolled closer to Kalec, and in what remained of the second sphere's light, he finally recognized the reptilian countenance.

Malygos
.

Kalec retreated in shock, shaking his head all the while.
This can't be true! It can't be! It's not Malygos! That's not possible—

His mind spun. Kalec fell against one of the other corpses, which caused it to tilt into another. Suddenly, all the proto-dragons began falling toward him.

In desperation, Kalec shut his eyes and concentrated his power all around him. The cave filled with brilliant white energy, so bright it blinded even its caster.

Gasping, the former Aspect dropped to one knee. Head down, he waited for the corpses to bury him underneath them. When that did not happen, he cautiously looked up . . .

 . . . and found himself kneeling in his sanctum.

At first, he dared not move. Kalec shivered as he tried to verify that what he now saw around him was the truth, more than the cave had been. He felt absolutely certain that he had been in the canyon—except that would mean that the relic had transported him from one part of the world to another with less effort than it required Kalec merely to breathe.

A rapid thumping sound echoed in his head. It took a moment for the blue to recognize his own heartbeat. He tried to slow his breathing, also causing his heart to shift to a more normal rhythm.

His surroundings did not change. Still kneeling, Kalec touched the floor. It felt solid, but then, so had the corpse against which he had fallen and the rock through which he had slipped.

“This is real. This is real,” Kalec muttered, the next second feeling uncomfortable at the fact that he needed to speak out loud while he sought to convince himself.
But the cave was real, too! It was!

He could not say which was worse, the notion of being tossed about the world or simply being made to believe it had happened. Either way, the artifact continued to intrude too thoroughly into his thoughts. The present had become a series of moments whose lengths of stability he could no longer trust, while the visions were becoming more and more what seemed the true reality. Kalec knew, though, that if he allowed himself to become too attuned to the visions, he might at some point
never
return to the here and now.

The former Aspect gritted his teeth.
If this even
is
the here and now.

Kalec rose and turned. The continued bane to his existence sat where last he recalled it, still gently emanating its own magical illumination.

“I'm tired of all these games!” he shouted at it. “Tell me what you want!”

But although it could do so much, although it could manipulate him in so many ways, the one thing that the relic apparently could not do was speak to him.

Kalec?

The blue male jumped. Eyes wide, he glared at the artifact, waiting for it to speak again.

Kalec?

The voice came from inside his head, but the relic was not the source of it, he finally understood. Someone was calling to him. Kalec knew that he should recognize the speaker.

“Jaina . . .”

Despite earlier misgivings about letting her potentially discover what was happening to him, Kalec now grasped at the chance to answer her call. The archmage represented part of that stability he fought to maintain.

“Jaina!” Kalec called to the empty air, only belatedly realizing how desperate his reply sounded. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “Jaina, I hear you. Wait.”

Steeling himself, he re-created the gap in the air that enabled him to communicate face to face with her. Through it, the vision of Jaina's chambers appeared. Although she had called to him, when the spellcaster first formed, she was leaning over a wide wooden table, inspecting some parchment.

“Kalec . . .” Jaina's initial smile faded as she looked over the former Aspect. “Are you sure you're well?”

He had thought that he had adjusted his appearance appropriately, but clearly, in some way, he had not entirely hidden the incredible stress he was going through even at that moment. “I'm more . . . I've been under more pressure than I wanted to admit,” Kalec began, thinking how best to keep vague but not too vague. “The Nexus . . . you understand.”

“You don't have to say any more, not unless you want to. I'd be willing to listen, if it would help.”

It was an offer he seriously considered, if only for a moment. However, Kalec quickly came to the conclusion that this was a matter he could not involve Jaina in. There was too much risk that she might fall prey to the artifact, just as he had.

“Thank you for that,” Kalec finally answered, trying to sound more relaxed. He remembered that he had heard her call to him earlier. His concern for his sanity briefly receded to the background as he concentrated on whatever dire problem the archmage confronted. “But enough of me. You need my help with something. What is it?”

Jaina looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“You tried to reach me before. I wasn't able to answer as I was this time.”

Her expression grew more troubled. “I don't understand. I've only been trying to answer
you
.”

“Me?”

She leaned so close that if she had actually been in his sanctum and not merely a projection, he could have touched her. “You've called to me twice since our last conversation. I responded both times, and you finally answered just now—”

“I called to—” slipped from Kalec's tongue before he managed to catch himself. His mind raced. He could not recall reaching out to Jaina either time, instead only hearing her voice in turn. While she might be mistaken, Kalec doubted that. More likely was the possibility that some part of his subconscious had sought help from the only one he thought he could trust to understand his situation. He did not even want to approach the other former Aspects, aware that they had some reason for making no mention of all that Kalec had learned thus far from the visions.

It came to his attention too late that he had been standing in silence before Jaina, his gaze now turned to the empty air to his right. Not at all to his surprise, she was staring at him with even greater worry than before.

“Kalec, tell me what's wrong.”

Struggling for an answer, he blurted the only thing he could think of. “The collection is more massive than I could have imagined, and the Nexus's protections are failing at the same time. It's proved to be a monumental task.”

Her eyes narrowed in understanding. As a sorceress—and especially the leader of the Kirin Tor—Jaina Proudmoore could appreciate the tremendous wealth of magical knowledge and power contained in the Nexus. She also understood the danger of leaving all that unguarded. “I know I offered this before, but please listen this time. I can gather a number of trusted magi and lead them—”