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Chapter 2

Alexstrasza waited patiently within the center of the re-grown Ruby Sanctum for the wyrm who she had summoned. She looked around at the surrounding trees and mountains. The sky was in a perpetual state of dawn, the start of a new day, the time in which life woke up to greet a new chance. The sanctums of each flight were separate dimensions, created by their Aspects into such an appearance that represented the Aspect's desires. Typically, entry into a sanctum was forbidden for mortals, but on one occasion in the past there had been a need for adventurers to enter the Ruby Sanctum. The guards outside had been slain by the black dragonflight shortly before Deathwing's return, shortly before the Shattering, and invaded by members of the black flight, who were led by a twilight dragon by the name of Halion. But that was only the first incursion.

She looked to her left, towards the ledge upon which she remembered her last clutch of eggs had been resting. She swallowed, and fought back the desire to weep. She remembered the vision that Go'el had shown to her in her despair at Desolace. She remembered how her beloved had looked carefully after their eggs, only to find them twisted by the Twilight's Hammer...to find that he himself was starting to be twisted after touching one of them.

No. She could not dwell on it. She _would_not dwell on it. He had saved them all. He was the best of them all, no matter how undeserving he always believed himself to be of such praise. Her head turned, and she looked at the crisp red leaves that stayed permanently in the boughs of the trees surrounding this place. The Ruby Dragonshrine to the west of Wyrmrest Temple was not unlike this place, though it served a very different purpose. She closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. She could still hear his laughter, even if it was just a memory.

"Beloved..." she whispered.

The sound of footsteps broke the silence and her fiery eyes opened. Varathaelstrasz walked away from the waygate and stopped some distance away from her. She watched as he sat down upon his haunches, and bowed his head in reverence.

"You wished to speak with me, my queen?"

She regarded him with a mixture of relief and sadness; relief that he had come; sadness that he seemed distant from her both physically and emotionally. She could see it in his red-orange eyes; his thoughts were divided.

High Overlord Saurfang's words must have resonated deep with him.

The Life-Binder forced herself to smile in spite of herself. Perhaps it would help him to relax, if he believed that she was not so emotionally drained herself.

"Yes. You are having a hard time with recent events, and are no doubt tired. After all, you and your comrades did have to cut a swath through much of Deathwing's forces. Come closer, you need not be so far from me, child."

He flinched visibly at the word. He was over six thousand years old, an age at which a dragon was considered to be fully matured, and yet the sheer disparity in their ages was insurmountable. She was over fifty-nine thousand years older than he, and so to her he must surely seem as a child in comparison.

Regardless, he could not decline a request made by her. She was the Queen of Dragons, and also the leader of his flight. He stood from where he sat and walked closer to her. Even standing tall, the difference in their size was considerable. She was easily more than twice his size, as all Aspects were compared to those of their flights. The only dragons to have ever been larger than even the Aspects were the monstrosity created by Nefarian's experiments and given life by the traitor Arygos' blood, Chromatus; and the father of the Aspects himself, Galakrond.

"I wish for you to tell me about all that you experienced when you stormed Icecrown Citadel."

"My queen, I--"

"Please. I must know. I must know about what it is that you faced. I need to know about what I failed to assist with, and failed to notice."

The male wyrm let out a sigh. It was not a time he enjoyed thinking back on. He supposed he could not blame her, however, for wanting to know. Varok Saurfang had backed her into a corner earlier with his accusations, and he could not help but wonder if she could sense the disquiet that had been in his heart and mind that she had not, at the time, asked about what had happened.

"I will not go over every minute detail, but I will tell you of the most significant events. When we entered the Citadel, we could hear Arthas mocking his prisoner, mocking Bolvar Fordragon, specifically. As Highlord Fordring and High Overlord Saurfang heard his voice, they immediately came to the conclusion that they must save Highlord Fordragon, that they might end the fighting that had erupted between the Alliance and Horde following the disaster at the Wrathgate of Angrathar. The breakdown in the truce came as a result of King Wrynn of Stormwind refusing to trust the Horde again after the apparent death of Fordring at the hands of Putress. Bolvar is now the Lich King, and swore everyone at the summit of the citadel to secrecy. I, my company, Tirion, and now you are the only ones who know what happened."

Alexstrasza closed her eyes, and remembered clearly the day of that ill-fated attack. Even now she wondered if she had made the right choice that day.

"With all due respect, my queen, why did you elect to keep the Alliance and Horde in the dark as to what had happened to Bolvar Fordragon? Why did you decide it was better for them not to know that he had been resurrected, albeit irrevocably changed, by our flight's fire?" Varathaelstrasz asked.

His voice was strained; she could tell it was taking every fiber of his being not to be angry.

"It purged the plague from him and restored him to life. The war that broke out anew between the Alliance and Horde could have been completely avoided if we had told them the truth! Arthas could have been stopped much sooner than he was."

The Aspect of Life opened her mouth to speak, and then paused. It was a question she had asked herself, at least in her own mind, constantly. Her charge was to protect life. Yet by deciding consciously not to tell the two factions the truth, all that had resulted was the loss of yet more life in their conflict that arose over the paladin's seeming demise.

"It...was a severe lapse in judgment on my part. There are many things that, now that I think back on them, were far more foolish than I had believed they could possibly be at the time." She watched him cautiously. To admit fault was often something difficult for any leader to do. At times it was something that a leader could not do, lest it undermine their authority. "I have taken our kind's longevity for granted...and failed to consider how mortals would react to such events. My tendency to take a long view of things blinded me to other potential perspectives. I believed that the mortals, when they learned that the paladin was alive, would cease hostilities on their own, as that was the catalyst for renewed warfare. I did not foresee that Bolvar would become the new Lich King and swear you to secrecy, nor did I foresee the war continuing regardless of that truth being discovered."

He lay down near her, and his mind began to race. Was she admitting her mistakes? It was almost unheard of from her.

"Afterward, we gradually made our ascent up the citadel. Dranosh Saurfang, High Overlord Saurfang's son, who was cut down at the Wrathgate by Arthas himself, was among those we faced. He was raised into undeath to serve as a death knight for the Scourge. We were forced to cut him down again, and to this day I can still hear, in the recesses of my mind, the sounds of Varok Saurfang's sobbing as he carried his son's corpse. The other most notable portion of our assault was finding Valithria Dreamwalker trapped inside, captured, with the Scourge trying to kill her so that they might raise her up into undeath as a servant of his."

Alexstrasza froze. "My sister...one of her flight was captured?"

"Yes. I can still remember hearing Arthas' voice issuing a command to the undead. He... commanded them to hasten the destruction of her body due to our intrusion. He... commanded them to leave only bones and sinew so that she might be reanimated. My queen, had we not arrived when we did, Arthas' depravity would have affected not just the blue, black, and red flights, but also the green flight." His voice quavered as he thought of the events; for a custodian of life, to see it made a mockery of was an affront to all he knew and valued.

"You remember, yes, how he raised blue dragon corpses as frost wyrms with the aid of Sindragosa, how his servants plundered the Obsidian Dragonshrine to raise the dead black dragons as magma wyrms? I trust that you remember also that there was the assault on our own shrine to our deceased, murdering the attendants, and raising them as ember wyrms, with even Dahlia Suntouched, one of your Dragonsworn, slain and made into a banshee servant, correct?"

She remembered. She remembered how the champions had brought news of Dahlia's death, of the attack on the sacred burial grounds of her flight, to her beloved who had been standing right next to her. She had shaken with anger and grief then, and started to do so again. His words ripped through her, tore at her. How could she not have done something to actively take justice for what the Lich King had done to her people? How could she not seek justice for what he had done to various mortals, Alliance and Horde?

"Afterward, we put Sindragosa to rest. We brought her essence back here, so that it might finally find rest within the Azure Dragonshrine. But that was only after... after the battle with Arthas at the top of the Citadel, where the Frozen Throne was perched. Highlord Fordring was the first to challenge Arthas, who merely froze him where he stood."

He paused, and his body started to shake. She could not help but watch him, and pangs of remorse shot through her, arrows of admonishment for her failure to act.

"We fought. And we fought. It seemed to go on forever, though I know it was just a short skirmish. He had been toying with us. In one swift, tremendous surge of power the twenty-five of us besides Tirion were slain. Our souls were... they were ripped into the very blade of Frostmourne itself. I could hear the countless screams of everyone killed by that accursed runeblade. Uther the Lightbringer, Terenas Menethil, Anasterian Sunstrider, and Arthas himself were among those voices. I could hear the screams of my comrades as they were tormented in that tempest of souls, and I remember my own voice joining that chorus."

His trembling grew stronger. His voice had cracked as he spoke of his own death. Alexstrasza wanted to do something, to say something, but she could not find the words nor think of what the proper thing to do in this situation was. What could she possibly offer or say to one who, unlike her, has actually died and somehow returned to life? Worse, someone who has had his soul ripped from his own body and cast into a maelstrom of other souls?

"Varathaelstrasz..." she said gently after a moment of consideration. "I... forgive me. Forgive me for never considering the immense danger you had put yourself in, on behalf of our charge. Forgive me for not acting in that conflict myself. And... forgive me for having never thanked you or asked after your health after that battle. But... what else happened?"

"He planned to raise the twenty-five of us as his greatest servants. Somehow, Highlord Fordring was freed from the ice, and had cleft Frostmourne in twain. Our souls and the rest that had been trapped within Frostmourne were unleashed and Terenas did... something. I don't know what he did, but our souls were returned, and the twenty-five of us struck Arthas down and brought him to an end."

A gentle breeze swept through the lush area, as if in response to its creator's change in mood. It felt somewhat soothing to the pair of dragons as they waited in silence. As the seconds turned to minutes--and as there was no further attempt by either of them to speak--the calm started to change to awkwardness and restlessness. Neither was sure how to proceed from here.

"My queen, is there something else you wished to speak to me about? Or, if there is nothing left, may I be excused? I am certain that my comrades are rather... eager to ply me with questions about my deception."

The male wyrm did not wish to be disrespectful to her; she was the Dragonqueen, after all, the Aspect of Life. To turn his back on her was not wise; the traitor Arygos had nearly incurred her wrath for his continued defiance and insolence before he had shown his true colors. Before that fateful day when Lord Korialstrasz--

He shook his head. It would not do to dwell on the past. If not for the late Consort of the Queen's sacrifice, it was very likely that all dragons would have been twisted into Chromatic dragon monstrosities.

"There is an announcement that I plan to make to the Accord itself in some time from now. I would say a week. I will need that time to recuperate after how taxing it was to save Neltharion from the corruption of the Old Gods. During that time, I also wish to speak with him... and to see if there is anything I might do to heal the many cracks and wounds in his body."

Varathaelstrasz looked at her blankly.

"Life-Binder, great though your powers may be, those wounds were inflicted by the Dragon Soul itself, which held the power of yourself, Malygos, Ysera, and Nozdormu. He couldn't even bear to hold onto it for very long before it started to tear his body apart. You would need as much power as you used to free his mind, and that only came when the other Aspects assisted you."

He stood from where had sat, and looked cautiously at her. He needed to be very cautious with his words. Compassionate she may be, but she was also not one to brook disrespect. Even with her lying upon the ground, she was still far larger than he.

"Much of your power has been spent... I can feel it, for I feel that my own strength has waned. Our flight's power comes from our Aspect; when you weaken, so do the rest of us."

Alexstrasza simply smiled in response to his rebuttal. Though not as old as she was, or as old as her Beloved had been, he understood well the implications of what had occurred.

"You speak true. It is likely that I will not be able to heal the injuries to his body created by the Dragon Soul. Not on my own. I will need the assistance of my sister, of young Kalec, and of Nozdormu. But I must try. However, your own point about you being enfeebled is all the more reason I ask that you remain here and rest, to recover your strength. Your companions can wait, I think, for you to be better rested. I will call the rest of our flight here. We have all earned the rest."

The red leviathan rested her head upon the grassy field again, the gentle breeze sweeping over them again. She let out a great sigh as her fatigue grew ever stronger. It was soothing, and the need to rest was increasing. Her entire body ached.

"Besides, you look as if you can barely stand yourself. I strongly suggest you give yourself time to recuperate, and I would hate to have to make it an official order."

He winced; he'd been hoping it wasn't that obvious, but one would be hard pressed to keep signs of fatigue hidden from arguably the most powerful healer on Azeroth. He knew she had him in a position where he had no more room to argue; it was either agree to her implied order, or be given a more overt one which he could not refuse in any case.

He inhaled, and then let out a great sigh.

"Yes, my queen."

He lay down on the ground, keeping somewhat away from her. He was not her consort; it was not his place to be close to her. He heard voices coming from the waygate as others of their flight came inside to join them, heeding her telepathic call to rest. The war was over: the Destroyer was no more, but now the Earth-Warder restored to lucidity; and the Hour of Twilight that her sister had foreseen in a vision had been averted. Now was the time to begin the healing process.

***

It was four days later, in the Chamber of Aspects, that the five stood together, each positioned near their respective sanctum's waygate. Neltharion easily looked the most uncertain of them all. Each had rested within their sanctum to recover, yet while Alexstrasza, Ysera, Kalecgos, and Nozdormu had others of their flight with them, Neltharion was alone within the Obsidian Sanctum. His flight was in tatters; he more or less abandoned them in favor of the twilight dragonflight that had been forced to flee, but the war between his flight and the other four had all but destroyed the black dragonflight.

Even now he could practically feel the youngest Aspect, Kalec to his left, staring daggers at him. He could hardly blame him.

"What is thisss about, Alexstrasza?" Nozdormu asked.

The Aspect of Earth closed his eyes, that familiar lisping voice of the Bronze Aspect jogging memories of over ten thousand years ago, before his betrayal.

It was one of the last times he had spoken in friendly tones with his best friend, with Malygos. But that was a façade, for by then he had already succumbed to the whispers. And he had all but destroyed Malygos' flight not long after. He let out a wistful sigh.

"Forgive me if this sounds impertinent, but I must echo Nozdormu's sentiment. What is the reason for this summons?" he asked.

Alexstrasza looked to her left, first to her sister close at hand, then to Neltharion, next to Kalecgos, and finally to Nozdormu.

"I apologize for the abruptness. I am sure each of you is still recovering from the battle four days ago, but I have need of your assistance with something. Namely, I need your help with the healing of Neltharion's wounds."

Kalecgos quirked a brow, puzzled by such a request.

"Are you not the greatest healer on Azeroth, Alexstrasza?"

The red wyrm looked to him and nodded. "There are things which even I cannot heal alone, as we all know from four days ago. This is in relation to that; Neltharion's scars, the bleeding of magma and the splitting of his scales, were caused by the chaotic energies of the Dragon Soul during the War of the Ancients. The immense power in them threatened to tear him apart. He had to discard it, eventually, for fear it would destroy him. Because the Dragon Soul had the powers of we Aspects, and of all dragons in our flights save for Neltharion, the injuries it dealt are beyond my power alone to heal.

"This is why I need your help. Even so, there will still be scarring; wounds that have bled for ten thousand years will not simply be healed and leave nothing to show how deep they were."

Kalecgos, in particular, looked concerned by this proposal. He fixed his eyes on the Life-Binder.

"What benefit is there to such an action?"

The red leviathan peered at him.

"The ability to start rebuilding his flight. Several of his consorts, save for Sintharia, were killed when they attempted to mate due to the magma he currently bleeds."

Nozdormu could not help but snort at the prospect.

"There remainsss a sssignificant barrier to your plan: the lack of female black dragonsss. There but remainsss himssself, Wrathion, and Neltharion'sss few living children in Outland. Sssurely you do not sssuggest inbreeding?"

Alexstrasza shook her head.

"No. But perhaps, with time as he regains trust, members of our flights might find him to be suitable."

She ignored the blank stares of the other four.

"There is no reason to believe such a thing is not possible. Malygos forcibly made my daughter--Keristrasza--his consort during the Nexus War. She was killed before she could bear him any progeny. Chromatus posited that chromatic dragons might be able to be produced with more stability if he mated with Kirygosa. Mating outside our flights may be possible, though it may be inadvisable to combine the bloodlines of all five flights."

Neltharion looked at her, the most surprised of all.

"The years have made you wiser."

"I was left little choice, Neltharion. However, I still have much to learn. I am not infallible by any means. I failed you and Malygos both. Furthermore, there is still the threat of the Burning Legion. They can still return at any time. Having a black dragonflight on the rise will greatly aid our fight to defend Azeroth."

Ysera said nothing, only marvelling at the soundness of her sister's logic. Such an argument from Malygos would have been expected, but less so from Alexstrasza. She looked around to Nozdormu and to Kalecgos, and saw that they, too, seemed to see the soundness of her argument.

"Is there anything else on your mind, sister, before we help you heal Neltharion?"

"What I have to say will be made known three days from now, before the entirety of the Accord. Come, we have much work to do."

They remembered well the ritual they had participated in with Thrall when fighting Chromatus and the twilight dragonflight. They remembered how they united their purposes, become as one, and let the boundaries of their powers fall away to become greater than they, individually, could ever hope to be. And as he looked on, and observed, the understanding filled Neltharion as well, and his own boundaries fell away. Red, green, blue, bronze, and black all blended to become a bright, white light that surrounded the five. If interwoven, all one might have to do was pull at the strings of one part for it all to come undone. They had to blend.

This light, blinding as it was, made a beacon, one that could be seen far, far to the north of the entrance to the Chamber of Aspects. Several dragons gathered outside, shielding their eyes with their wings. They could not bear to look directly at such pure, unyielding light.

And then, in moments, it faded. All five great dragons lay prone upon the stone floor, shards of elementium littering the ground. Slowly each began to stand, first the Timeless One, followed by the Spell-Weaver. The Awakened Dreamer stood next and, after, the Life-Binder. Finally, the Earth-Warder stood, and the dragons gathered outside looked on in wonderment.

Gone were the plates of elementium fused to his body, repulsed from his body during the healing process. Smaller--much smaller--were the cracks in his hide, so fine now that they were more like scars. His body no longer glowed with fire and magma spilling from the cracks. Lastly, gone was the plate that replaced his lower jaw; once more there was flesh, sinew, and scale. Neltharion the Earth-Warder had returned, in name, mind, and now in form.

Wary, they approached him, not forgetting the last ten thousand years of war and strife that the black dragonflight had caused in his madness. Many could still remember his words to the Aspects, to Alexstrasza especially, during the last stand on the summit of the temple. They recalled that his sanity had degraded even further--to the point that he, who had long been defensive and enraged if any of his children came to harm--regarded his prime consort, his son Nefarian, and his daughter Onyxia as "nothing." And, as if their own thoughts pierced him, they saw rivulets begin to run from his eyes as he looked down at himself.

"I am free... would that my children could say the same. Would that Sintharia could say the same..."

But as they stood, staring at this display, the Aspects turned to them, and saw that more and more dragons were gathering, drawn by the light, and by the emotions that their leaders were feeling. Dragons of various hues--azure, ruby, bronze and emerald--stood outside the Chamber of Aspects, unable to fight their curiosity.

"It would seem that I will have to make my announcement now, given that just about the entirety of the Accord is here," Alexstrasza said.

She let out a sigh, and walked to the center of the Chamber of Aspects, looking out at the opening to the crowd of dragons gathered. She could see, near the middle of the throng, the dragon she had spoken at length to only four days ago.

"You may as well all come in, out of the cold," she called out.

At her command they filed into the cavernous chamber, glancing to each other, and then to her and the other Aspects. Whispers surged throughout the crowd, as they had not missed the word "announcement" when she had spoken to the other Aspects. Once all were inside, she walked back to her place beside Ysera.

"I trust that it is much more comfortable for all of you, now that you are in here instead of the snowy Dragon Wastes. Now, to get to the announcement that I had planned to make in a few days, but have decided to make now, what with all of you gathered to see Neltharion's healing..." the Dragon Queen started.

The eyes of every dragon were now fixed upon her, none more so than her fellow Aspects'.

"Reflecting on the words that were spoken here in this chamber four days ago, by my fellow Aspects and by the mortals who helped us prevent the Hour of Twilight, I have come to a decision. I am stepping away from the Wyrmrest Accord on a leave of absence for the foreseeable future."

At this utterance, activity and voices swelled within the gathered dragons. Ysera and Kalecgos looked at her, especially stunned by this decision.

"I have spent too long sheltered from the mortals whom I must safeguard as custodian of Life. For the majority of the past ten thousand years, I have retreated from them. I am, as Varok Saurfang said, out of touch with the children of this world. And so I have decided to venture out into the world, to be among the mortals, and to try and understand them from their own perspectives."

"But, my Queen, who will lead the Accord in your absence?" asked a red drake; by the sound of the voice, this one was female. "Lady Ysera and Lord Nozdormu have their own duties they must attend to; they cannot watch over Wyrmrest Temple. And the Earth-Warder has his own duties, especially with there being only himself and the black whelp, Wrathion."

A pang shot through Neltharion at this.

"Not to worry," Alexstrasza began, smiling at the young red dragon, "I have already considered this. Remember, if you will, that the monitoring of the temple traditionally belonged to the Blue Dragonflight. With the Nexus being not far from here, Kalecgos is the one best able to keep watch. In addition, there will still be Lord Afrasastrasz to command the defense, and Tariolstrasz as steward. The Ruling Council is also still in place, with Lord Itharius, Chronormu, and Kalecgos among them, and I would place Torastrasza as my own representative on the council. She has served ably as its majordomo, after all."

Everyone continued to stare, caught off guard by the pronouncement.

"You would go alone to these mortal demesnes?" Neltharion asked, dumbstruck. "To Teldrassil, to Darnassus for the night elves and the worgen, I see no issue. The kal'dorei have ever been friends to you. The members of the Alliance in general, such as the dwarves and gnomes of Ironforge, the humans of Stormwind, and the Draenei of the Exodar, are friendly to your flight. But the orcs of the Horde? You would go to Orgrimmar, as well, with Garrosh Hellscream as the Warchief of the Horde?"

The red Aspect looked at him, her face inscrutable.

"Your concern is appreciated, Neltharion. I sense a desire to make amends for what the Old Horde was able to do with Deathwing's help. It was only nineteen years ago that I was freed from captivity."

The Black Aspect bowed his head in shame at the memory.

"However, I will not be leaving alone. I will be accompanied by a member of my flight, of my choosing. One who has been among mortals, and understands them better than I do as a result."

There was a marked increase in interest and activity among the red dragons gathered. Who would she choose to guide her?

"I have already chosen, based on careful consideration of the experiences of my flight's members. And my choice..." the Dragonqueen started. She looked through the crowd of dragons gathered, and smiled good-naturedly. "Is Varathaelstrasz."

Immediately the dragons turned, and the red wyrm in question looked at her, struck senseless.

"Me, Life-Binder? But...why?"

"It is because you have been among these mortals and fought alongside them, both Horde and Alliance, against threats to all of life. You know the workings of these different races better than I, and so I would have you accompany me, and assist me in my journey."

All eyes were on the two as she beckoned him forward. They watched as he bowed low.

"It would be an honor, my Queen. When do we depart?"

"In three days. To allow us time to rest, and to prepare."

"Your will be done."

He couldn't help but wonder just what difficulties could, and likely would, crop up.