The Sundering (25 page)

“Greetings, Rhonin Redhair!” boomed the antlered being. The female figures eyed the wizard with curiosity. “We come to join the fight for our precious realm…” He studied Jarod Shadowsong. “Is this the one with whom we must coordinate our actions?”

The human glanced at his companion, who sat openmouthed.
“
He is. Forgive him! I find myself a little astounded by your coming as well
…
Cenarius.
”

“Cenarius…” muttered Jarod. “The forest lord?”

“Yes, and I believe he’s brought some august company with him.
”
Rhonin added, peering beyond the mythic guardian.

It was as if the tales of his childhood had come to life
…
and, indeed, perhaps that was the most apt description. Rhonin and the night elf gazed up—often high up—at giants known only from the dreams of mortals. For all his height, the forest lord was dwarfed by some of his companions. A pair of twin, bearlike creatures like veritable mountains flanked Cenarius, one eyeing Rhonin with particular interest. Beyond them and only slightly smaller, a being resembling a wolverine with six limbs and a serpentine tail eagerly surveyed the distant battlefield. His breath came in hungry pants and his massive claws raked the ground, creating massive grooves.

Towering over almost everything else was a humongous, tusked boar with a mane of sharp, even deadly thorns. A name came unbidden from Rhonin’s early studies
…
Agamaggan…a demigod of primal fury…

Some were not so overwhelming, but were no less stunning. There was a beautiful yet dangerous-looking bird woman around whom flocks of avians abounded. A tiny red fox with a sly yet gnomish visage scurried between the legs of the giants and darting around many of the demigods were minute, sword-wielding men with butterfly wings
…
pixies of a sort.

A shape pure white flashed by at the edge of the wizard’s gaze. He immediately sought out the source, but found nothing. Yet, an image remained burned in his thoughts, that of a huge stag with antlers that seemed to reach the heavens
…

And on it went. Male figures with hooded faces and whose flesh—what little there was visible—was oak bark. Hippogriffs and gryphons fluttered in the air and creatures resembling giant stick bugs with humanoid forms swayed patiently in the wind. Further on, there were scores of other unique figures, some of whom the wizard would have been hard-pressed to describe even while staring at them—but all of whom bore marked resemblance to some particular aspect of the natural world.

And even from where he stood, Rhonin could sense the energies surrounding each, the natural forces of the world embodied by those created first to protect it from harm.

“Jarod Shadowsong…” the wizard managed. “May I introduce to you the demigods of Kalimdor…all of them.
”

“At your command,” Cenarius added respectfully, his front legs falling to a kneeling position. Behind him, the others followed suit in their own manner.

The new leader of the host swallowed, unable to speak.

Rhonin took a quick look behind himself. Everywhere, soldiers, tauren, furbolgs, Earthen, and more watched the tableau in awe. Most now recognized that these newcomers were beings of tremendous age and power
…
all of whom were now acknowledging Jarod as the one from whom they would take their cues in battle.

Cenarius rose, eyeing the night elf as one did an equal.
“
We await your word.
”

And to his credit, the former Guard captain straightened, replying,
“
You are all very welcome, elder one. Your strength is greatly appreciated. With any luck, we have a chance, a good chance, of surviving.
”

The forest lord nodded, his eyes looking beyond Jarod to the other mortal defenders. A determined expression steeled Cenarius’s bearded countenance.
“
Yes. You have it right, Lord Shadowsong
…
we have a chance
…”

A
s Malfurion stirred from unconsciousness, pain struck him over what seemed every inch of his body. It was almost enough to send him back to the darkness, but a sense of urgency pushed him on. Slowly, the druid began to register sounds and, just as significant, the lack of sounds.

He opened his eyes and was greeted by the soft shadow of night. Thankful for once to avoid the glare of daylight, Malfurion pushed his aching form up to a sitting position, then surveyed the region.

He let out a gasp.

Some yards beyond and half-buried in a crater no doubt caused by the collision, the dragon Korialstrasz lay still.

“He—he lives
…”
managed a rumpled figure rising like a specter from the grave.
“
I—I can readily assure you of th-that.
”

“Krasus?”

The mage stumbled toward him, looking more gaunt and pale than ever.
“
Not
…
not the circumstances I had planned for our reunion.
”

Taking hold of the elder spellcaster, Malfurion guided him over to a rock and made Krasus sit.
“
What happened? How do you come to be here?
”

Taking a deep breath, the robed figure explained how he had led the black dragon on a chase, trying to buy time for the night elf and the orc. As he spoke, Krasus seemed to recover much of his strength, something the night elf attributed to the other’s amazing background.

Then, Malfurion recalled mention of their other comrade.
“
Brox!
”
he blurted, looking around.
“
Is he—”

“The orc lives. I think his hide and skull even stronger than a dragon’s. He came to me just as I stirred. I believe he is out trying to locate food and water, our own destroyed in the crash.
”
Krasus shook his head and continued,
“
We may also thank Korialstrasz for our relative health. He did what he could to protect us—including a hasty spell—at cost to himself.
”
The mage said the last proudly.

“Shall I try to heal him as I did once before?”

“No…the last time, you drew upon the strength of a healthy land. Here, you might have to draw too much on yourself. He would understand. There is another way.” Krasus did not explain what it was, though, instead saying, “As to how the two of us came to be together, Korialstrasz found me as I lay recuperating from a narrow escape from the black one. He had slain a guardian of Deathwing’s, then feared—rightly, as it turned out—that something had gone wrong with our plan to steal the disk.
”

With Krasus astride, they had taken a circuitous route to avoid both Deathwing and any other sentinels he might have stationed, then had followed as best they could the tell-tale trace magic Krasus detected from the Demon Soul. Unfortunately, they had not found the pair until after those from the palace had captured them and taken the disk.

“That was your brother with them, was it not, Malfurion?”

The druid hung his head.
“
Yes. He
…
I don’t know what to tell you, Krasus!
”

“Illidan bears their taint,” the mage said pointedly. “You would do best to remember that and remember well.” There was something in his tone that hinted of more knowledge in respect to Malfurion’s twin, but Krasus did not elaborate.

“What do we do now? Do we go after the Demon Soul?”

“I think we must…but first, you need to tell me everything you can about what transpired before my arrival.”

Nodding, Malfurion detailed his and Brox’s capture, the taking of the malevolent disk, and the arduous journey. Each time it was necessary to mention Illidan, Malfurion nearly choked.

Krasus listened stone-faced, even when the night elf described as best as he could recall for what purpose they hoped to utilize the Demon Soul. Only when Malfurion had finished did the mage respond.

“It is an even more foul scenario than I had imagined…” he muttered, half speaking to himself. “They will have planned this…and yet…and yet, in it there may be some hope…”

“Hope?” Malfurion could hardly see any hope in what he had told the other.

“Yes…” Krasus rose. Steepling his fingers, he rested his chin on them as he considered further. “If we can only make them listen.
”

“Who?”

“The Aspects.”

The night elf was incredulous.
“
But we can’t! They’ve shut themselves away, even from you! If Korialstrasz were conscious, then—”

“Yes,” interrupted the dragon mage. “And it is Korialstrasz who, in part, may aid us in bringing them out…if I know She Who is Life as I do.”

His words made little sense to Malfurion, but the druid had gotten used to that somewhat. If Krasus had some plan in mind, the night elf would do whatever he could to help.

The rattle of loose rock presaged Brox’s return. Unfortunately, the orc returned empty-handed.

“No stream…no puddle. No food…not even insects,” the warrior reported. “I have failed, elder one.”

“You have done as best as you could, Brox. This is a dismal land, even so far from Deathwing’s domain.
”

At mention of the black scourge’s new name, Malfurion tensed.
“
Do you think that he might still come after us?
”

“I would be astounded if he did not. We must attempt something before that happens.” Krasus peered over his shoulder at the unmoving form of Korialstrasz. “I give thanks that this Captain Varo’then used the Demon Soul in haste, or else we would all be ash. Korialstrasz can recover—and I know that—but, it is up to us to make contact first. And by us, I mean you, night elf.
”

“Me?”

As Krasus’s eyes narrowed, Malfurion noticed for the first time how reptilian they were.
“
Yes. You must walk the Emerald Dream again. You must find its mistress, Ysera.
”

“But we’ve already attempted that since the dragons were driven off by the Demon Soul and she’s refused to respond.
”

“Then, this time you must tell her that Alexstrasza must know that Korialstrasz is dying.”

Aghast, Malfurion looked at the huge body, but Krasus immediately shook his head.
“
No! Trust me
…
I would be the first to fear that. Just tell Ysera. She cannot but help alert She Who is Life of this.
”

“You want me to lie to the mistress of the dream realm?
”

“There is no other choice.”

Thinking about it, the druid saw that his comrade made sense. Only a warning of such magnitude might gain one of the Aspects’ attention. They would not think Malfurion so foolish as to risk their wrath with a false story.

There remained only the question as to what would happen when the dragon discovered that he had lied.

But Malfurion could not think about that. He trusted in Krasus’s judgment.
“
I’ll do it.
”

“I will try to watch over you. Brox, I leave it to you to protect both of us, if necessary.”

The orc bowed.
“
My honor, elder one.
”

As he had done in the past, Malfurion sat with legs folded and cleared his mind first of all outside disturbances, then worked on easing the aches of his body. As the pain receded, he focused on the mythic realm.

Even despite his present condition, the night elf discovered it easier than ever to enter the Emerald Dream. The only unsettling sensation was a warmth at the points where the two small nubs on his forehead were located. Malfurion wanted to reach up and touch them in order to see if there had been any change, but knew that his first priority was finding Ysera.

He considered searching for her across the elemental landscape, then realized that, being who she was, all he had to theoretically do was call out to her. Whether or not the Aspect responded was another matter entirely.

Lady of the Emerald Dream, Malfurion called in his mind. She of the Dreaming
…
Ysera
…

The druid sensed no other presence, but knew that he had to continue. She was here, somewhere
…
or everywhere. Ysera would hear him.

Ysera
…
I bring dire news for She Who is Life
…
the consort of Alexstrasza
…
Korialstrasz
…
is dying
…
Malfurion pictured the scene, trying to give the one he sought to contact some notion as to where the male dragon lay. Korialstrasz is dying
…