Authors: Richard A. Knaak
“Yes.” Krasus did not push the point that now was hardly the time for visits. He did not doubt that Aviana knew exactly what was going on in the world and that despite her pleasant visage, she conferred with the other demigods and spirits on how to deal with the Burning Legion.
The sky deity looked to the night elf. “You, you, on the other wing, are one of Cenarius’s…”
“I am Malfurion.”
Aviana twittered, a sound like a songbird. “Of course, of course, you are! Cenarius speaks well of you, youngling.”
The druid’s cheeks darkened.
A question burned in Krasus’s mouth, and he finally had to blurt, “Mistress…how do we come to be here?”
For the first time, she looked surprised. “Why, you chose to come here, of course, of course!”
The last thing Krasus could recall was the worm closing in on them as they reached the gate. He looked to Malfurion for clarification, but the night elf obviously knew less than him. “You say I chose to send us here?”
Aviana raised one delicately-boned hand. A multicolored songbird with a sweeping tail flew through the entrance and alighted onto the back of the hand. The demigoddess cooed at the small creature, which rubbed its head against hers. “Only those who truly desire to come here do. This one found you and your friend lying among the branches, the branches. There was also much scattered flesh of a very large and tasty worm. The children will feast for some time on it…”
Malfurion looked sick. The mage nodded. When he had blacked out, the portal had collapsed, cutting the huge worm in two.
Ignoring his own distaste, Krasus said, “I am afraid that this is the sole time that it was in complete error, mistress. I did not mean for us to come here. I cast a spell that went awry.”
Her petite mouth formed another smile. “So you do not wish to fly again, to fly again?”
Krasus grimaced. “I would like nothing more.”
“Then that, then that, is in part why you ended up here.”
The dragon mage mulled over her words. His continual longing to be what he was had evidently influenced his spellcasting and Aviana had sensed it. “But there’s nothing you can do for me.”
“So sad, so sad.” The demigoddess let the songbird fly out again. “But perhaps I can, perhaps I can…if you truly insist on departing.”
“I do.”
“Very well, very well.” From within the inner plumage of her left wing, Aviana plucked one feather. As she held it up, a silver sheen covered it. The sky deity handed the feather to Krasus, who took the gift with reverence and studied it. Certainly Aviana’s feather had power, but how would it enable him to fly?
“Place it upon your chest.”
After some hesitation, Krasus pulled open the top of his robe, revealing his chest. He heard Malfurion gasp and even Aviana stared at him with wider eyes.
“So, so, you are indeed one of mine.”
He had forgotten about the scale. Taken from his younger self, it felt so comforting that he had forgotten it. Briefly he pondered whether he could have used it to somehow penetrate the barrier, but quickly realized that by the time they had reached the area, Neltharion had sealed off the dragons’ domain from all but his own sentinels. The Earth Warder had wanted no one disturbing his final spellwork. “Will your plan still work?” he asked.
“But of course, but of course! More so now, more so!”
Placing the feather against a part of his chest that was not covered by the dragon scale, Krasus waited.
The downy piece adhered much as the scale had. The silky tendrils of the feather spread flat, and as Krasus watched, the tendrils suddenly grew. They reached along his torso, snaking over it in every direction.
Malfurion looked distraught, but Krasus shook his head. He understood what Aviana intended and welcomed it. The dragon mage’s heart pulsated at twice its normal rate, and he felt the urge to go leaping out of the nest.
“Not yet, not yet,” warned the demigoddess. “You will know when its work is done, when its work is done.”
A peculiar sensation spread across his upper back, near the shoulder blades. Krasus felt his garments shift and heard slight rips.
“There’s something coming out of the back of your robes!” the druid gasped.
Even before they began to stretch, to define themselves, Krasus knew what they would be—huge, expansive white wings identical to the ones that Aviana had worn when transformed into a bird. Thick, white feathers covered them. Krasus instinctively flexed the wings and found them as responsive as his own.
“They are yours for this journey, for this journey.”
The dragon mage indicated his companion. “What about him?”
“He is not born to the sky, to the sky. With learning, yes, with learning. Too long, too long, though. You must carry him, carry him.”
In his present form, Krasus doubted that he had the strength for such a lengthy trek and said so. His concerns did not seem to bother their host, though.
This time, Aviana plucked a single strand from another feather. She brought it to her lips and gently blew it toward Malfurion. The druid looked uncertain, but stood his ground as the tiny bit of feather drifted over to him.
It touched his shoulder, adhering there. Malfurion shook once, then found great satisfaction with his hands, his legs, his entire body.
“I feel—” He jumped up and nearly struck the ceiling. Landing, Malfurion grinned like a child.
The birdlike deity smiled at both, her gaze returning to Krasus. “You will find him no burden at all, no burden at all.”
“I—” Krasus choked up. He had not realized until now how great his distress had been over losing his ability to soar among the clouds. A tear slipped from one eye as he went down on his knee before Aviana and said, “Thank you…”
“No need for gratitude, no need.” She bid him to rise, then led both toward the entrance. “Away you will fly, you will fly. To that high branch, then the right, the right. Through the clouds, through the clouds and descend. Well on your way you will be, you will be.”
“The feather. How will I—”
She put a gentle finger to the mage’s lips. “Hush, hush. It will know, it will know.” As Malfurion joined Krasus, Aviana grew more solemn and said to the druid, “Your shan’do wishes you to know that he is with you, with you. We do not ignore the danger, the danger. Our will, our will, is strong…”
“Thank you. That gives me hope.”
“Gives all of us hope,” added Krasus. “If only we could do something about the dragons.”
She agreed. “Yes…even we do not understand what goes on there, what goes on there.”
Her two visitors eyed each other, Krasus saying, “They have a plan, but there is a threat to—”
Suddenly, his mouth felt as if full of cotton. His tongue seemed to twist. Aviana waited for more, but Krasus could give her nothing.
Seeing his silence as some hesitation of his own, the demigoddess gave him a respectful nod, then bid the dragon mage to step through the hole.
Krasus did so immediately, almost leaping into the sky. The wings instantly reacted, carrying him aloft. Around the area, birds twittered and sang out in recognition of a fellow flying creature.
The heady experience made him momentarily forget Malfurion and his mission. The sensation of having his own wings was so spectacular that Krasus had to fly up among the branches, then dive around them before rational thought returned.
Somewhat chagrined, the mage finally dropped down to where the druid and Aviana awaited him. The night elf had an awestruck expression and the demigoddess smiled like a proud parent. She indicated to Malfurion that he should step out and, after a cautious glance down, the druid obeyed.
Coming up over the night elf, Krasus took him under the shoulders. He felt as if he carried nothing.
“Are you comfortable?” the mage asked his companion.
“Not until my feet touch the ground,” Malfurion muttered, “but I’ll be good enough until then, Master Krasus.”
“Go then, go then,” Aviana said to the pair. To Krasus in particular, she added, “And when the end of your days comes, youngling, I will have your nest here ready, your nest here ready.”
Krasus blanched. He looked around at the endless number and variety of birds; so many species living together, even though they should not be.
And the reason that they could live together here…was that they did not live at all. These were their spirits, brought up here by the demigoddess. Somewhere there would be larger flying creatures, perhaps the hippogriff that had been slain and…and, of course, those dragons who had seen the end of their days.
“Go now, go now,” the white figure cooed. “You shall return soon enough, soon enough…”
Put off guard as he had never been before, Krasus swallowed. “Yes, mistress…thank you again.”
She smiled, which in no way eased his mind.
Rising up several yards, Krasus studied the direction in which she had told him to fly. He adjusted his grip on an anxious Malfurion, then started off.
As they flew, the night elf asked, “What did she mean by that? What did she mean that you would return?”
“We must all die someday, Malfurion.”
“We—” The druid shivered, the truth finally dawning on him. “You mean…all of this—?”
“All of it.” Krasus refused to say more, but, his curiosity aroused, he dared look back at the nest. His eyes widened as the mage realized that he had seen only a tiny bit. For the first time Krasus saw the structure in all its immensity. It ran everywhere and at each turn a huge, rounded chamber stood. The dragon mage studied the entire edifice, then the towering tree that dwarfed it. High up, he noticed winged creatures that even he could not identify.
And then, while he was still caught up in the sight…they entered the clouds.
T
he night elven host met the demons again just beyond Suramar. The Burning Legion held them there for a short time, then fell back toward Zin-Azshari. Midway through the next evening, the battle intensified, and once more no ground was gained or lost. Night elves and demons perished horribly, either through the blade or the magic arts.
Ravencrest could not stand this repeated stalemate, and so he had summoned Rhonin and Illidan again.
“Magic looks to be the deciding factor in this!” he said to the human in particular. “Can you do anything?”
Rhonin considered. “There is something that may be possible, but I’ll need the full cooperation of the Moon Guard to put it into effect. It may backfire, too.”
“I doubt it can make anything worse. Well, Illidan?”
“I eagerly await to aid Master Rhonin in whatever spell he crafts, my lord,” Malfurion’s twin said with a bow to the wizard.
Rhonin kept his expression neutral. He hoped that Illidan would maintain control and not try to build on what the redhaired spellcaster planned. If he did, chaos might ensue.
And chaos meant defeat.
“We’re going to draw upon the Well as deeply as we can,” Rhonin informed Illidan as they made their way to the Moon Guard. “I want to try something that the wizards of Dal—that the wizards of my homeland discussed doing, but were unable to try before things fell apart.”
“Will it be that complicated, Master Rhonin?”
“No. They spent weeks preparing it, but I have in here—” He tapped his head. “—all that they completed. It may take us a few hours, but we should be successful.”
Illidan grinned. “I have the utmost faith in you, Master Rhonin!”
Again, the human wondered if the night elf would be able to follow orders without attempting to turn the spell into something of his own rash design. More and more, Illidan appeared unable to not be the center of any casting. He lived for his sorcery, and cared not that much of his prowess had to do with the forces fed into him by the Moon Guard.
By the gods! Rhonin thought suddenly. He almost sounds like a demon that way…
But in so many other ways, the amber-eyed night elf was a potentially more terrible threat. An Illidan who sought to dominate…there, indeed, was a path to destruction.
I’ll keep him under control. I have to with Krasus gone. He could only hope that his former mentor had succeeded in reaching the dragons. If not, Rhonin did not know what might happen. He had not planned on utilizing such a very dangerous spell, but with the knowledge that the outcome of this war was anything but set, there seemed no other choice.