Will You Do Nothing?
He wanted to put out the sun.
Its blinding, joyous light burned his eyes, the unwanted brilliance illuminating the wreckage of the room. His thick, black-scaled foreleg draped over the edge of the bed, shifting the torn blankets and ripped sheets. The twisted remnants pulled and tore against his horns as he shifted to block the rest of the light.
Scattered about him were torn tissues, ranks of fallen soldiers. A bare handful had made it into the receptacle in the far wall.
Most had not.
The rest were scattered, unrecognizable lumps, lying where they had fallen forevermore.
His half-lidded eyes stared at nothing, saw nothing. He did not eat, he did not sleep, did not move.
She had destroyed him.
One of his great wings twitched, its crumpling, twisted form carving a canyon through the splinters of broken furniture. His other wing folded about his body, replacing some of the ruined blankets. He laid there, still, stiff.
Don't feel.
Don't make the swelling come.
Don't make the world writhe.
Don't let them fall in the shadow of his wings.
Stay still, stay away, and no one will suffer anymore.
She was gone.
He should be gone too.
The wisp of reflection dissipated. He stared into darkness of his covers and thought no more.
The soft whoosh of the door opening marked an intrusion. The lack of sight was no impediment, the vibrations of the intruder's feet painting his image to the Black Aspect. The images revealed the intruders identity as they kneeled by his side, Velen's hand a soft presence on the mass of pillows by the dragon's head.
"Neltharion," he said softly. "It has been two weeks. You have not moved since you returned from the sea. You have not eaten anything, drunk anything. I am increasingly concerned."
There was no reply. Velen pressed on.
"I want to help. As I promised. But I cannot if you will not allow me."
Neltharion curled tighter at the Prophet's touch, his paw reaching up to fold around his snout. His great tail flicked languidly, a soft scraping as his tail blade drew curls of metal from the lavender walls. His breath was shallow.
"Neltharion," Velen said, his tone soft and soothing. "You did not harm a soul in the Exodar. What damage done was cosmetic, easily repaired."
Velen reached out to his draping foreleg, cupping the paw in his hands. He ran his fingers over the dragon's thick knuckles.
"I feel that I have wronged you in some way," Velen said. "I have not tried hard enough to sooth your pain. And I want to. But I cannot unless you allow me to do so."
He said nothing.
Velen took in a deep breath and slowly lifted the pillow from his head. He stared back, expressionless, drooping, lethargic. No sound of protest escaped at the removal of the pillow.
He stared ahead, unblinking.
"I will give you your space," Velen said with a soft whisper, long long nails combing into Neltharion's matted, salt and peppered beard. "But I will have you know, I will not give up on you. I will not."
For a brief moment, he responded, eyes squinting slightly as a tear dripped from the grooves of his scales. Velen rested a hand upon his great, spiny horns.
"Even if it is sorrow," he said. "We all must feel something. But it should never be hopeless, fathomless."
He briefly clenched his paw around Velen's hand. The Draenei smiled softly.
"I am here if you need me," he said.
He gave a nod, grip loosening as Velen rose and departed, closing the door behind him.
Velen's concerns gnawed at him as the day wore on. Neltharion had not moved an inch. He began to wonder if the dragon would ever move. He resolved to check up on Neltharion one more time past mid-day. Perhaps talking to him, touching him, comforting him would get him to move.
Maraad came in, followed by two raven-haired human women. The Vindicator bowed respectfully to the Prophet.
"Holy Prophet," he said. "These two wish to see you. They say they are representatives of the Black Dragonflight."
Velen rose and nodded, dismissing Maraad.
"I am sorry if I seem to have taken your Aspect," said Velen. "I do not mean to. But I cannot turn him away in his time of need."
"It's fine," said one. "We understand why it has happened."
"We're sorry if Lord Neltharion has been a bit...troubling for you, um...your...Holiness?" the other said.
"Please, call me Velen," he said.
"Jace," said the first female.
"Nameria," said the second. "I am Ambassador Siderion's sister."
"Ah, yes, I know of the Dragonflight ambassadors," said Velen. "Frankly, I am glad you are here. Perhaps seeing family might make him feel...better. He drowns in his sorrows, I am afraid."
He led them through the halls of the Exodar, passing under humming conduits of pink energy flowing from the bowels of the ship itself.
"We're not here for a visit," said Nameria. "We...are here to collect him."
"Only for a time," said Jace. "If he wishes to return back to the Exodar, he may. But we need our Aspect. And we need to show him how much we need him."
"Sometimes distance helps to heal the soul," said Velen. "But other times distance can make the sorrow worse."
He sighed.
"I am no stranger to what the Earth-Warder is feeling," he said. "He feels he has failed his people, failed to protect him. And he has very few allies, and even fewer friends. This I understand well. My people are outcasts, exiles from our own home, and we can never go back. It is hard to survive when your circle of comrades is ever-shrinking."
"Exactly, what is his condition?" Jace asked.
"Depression, lethargy," said Velen. "Ever since she left, the surge came. He swelled enormously. An earthquake struck Azuremyst. Neltharion did in intend it--it was an accident brought on by his turbulent emotions. He was dangerous to be near, his body so hot he dove into the ocean to cool off and stayed there for days. Afterward he was able to cool and calm his emotions; he seemed to be recovering."
Velen paused momentarily, expression souring. "Then, the reports came in. Rumors of tsunamis, storms battering coastlines, earthquakes splitting the land. Neltharion was astute, he noticed they all happened around the time of his surge. He became distraught, and a second aftershock shook the Exodar. A coolant leak followed. Nothing serious. No one was harmed. But Neltharion was not convinced. He kept repeating how much of a danger he was."
"That is until I..." Velen looked down and sighed. "I unfortunately snapped at him. I said he was not a danger, that he was safe and welcome here. If he needed to rest further, then let it be here where there are not many to harm. Why go anywhere else where even proximity to another city could cause him stress? I convinced him to stay and heal. But he went to his room and has not come out since. I visit him, but all he does is stare. Nothing more."
He looked back up to the girls.
"If you can help him, it would ease my conscience," he said. "I want to help him. But I do not know how."
"I've never met anyone who would willingly help any of us," said Nameria. "Especially since...well...wasn't there a black dragon causing you some trouble just offshore?"
"Yes, there was," said Velen. "But I try not to let that color my opinion of you, or Neltharion. You have to understand, he represents a hope to me. There is someone in my life who I care for beyond measure, someone who fell into darkness. I have tried so desperately to find a way to save him beyond...slaying him. When I heard Neltharion was brought back to the light, I felt renewed hope. Perhaps there is a chance for those I care for as well."
"Who is this friend?" Nameria asked.
"Kil'Jaeden," said Velen. "Do you understand?"
Jace and Nameria exchanged a glance, before turning to Velen and nodding.
"More than ever," said Jace.
"Much like your Aspect I want to help my people--all of them. All the Eradar. For the Man'ari are my people as much as the Draenei. And I do not want to lose any of them. We dwindle due to the actions of the Dark Titan. A problem I know you understand."
"Yes," said Jace. "Well...we have lost much since Theramore's destruction. So, we plan to...at least attempt to..."
"Make new whelps," said Nameria.
"I am sure that would make Neltharion very happy," said Velen. "But as I understand it...from what Neltharion has told me...you all are related, correct?"
"Neltharion is my great-great-great grandfather," said Nameria.
"Great-great grandfather for me," said Jace.
"So, you are separated from Neltharion by four generations," said Velen, looking at Nameria. He turned to Jace. "And you are only separated from Neltharion by three generations."
"Right," said Nameria. "Though we do have a better mix of genetics than say...a daughter of Neltharion would have. Neltharion has seen what happens when eggs are produced by incest, and he forbade inbreeding in consequence."
"A hard decision, one I have made myself," said Velen. "When we left Argos, I only had a few thousand under my wing. And twenty five thousand years separate us from that time. You can imagine the difficulty as we became more and more related to everyone else on the ship. And finding fresh blood who would join us from our few colonies on other worlds...that became just as difficult. They either joined Sargeras, or they were slaughtered. The birth of any healthy child was--is--a blessing."
"We have one who isn't related to the rest of us," said Jace. "We need Neltharion to come give...his blessing to the procreation."
"It might get him off your hands for a little while," said Nameria. "And it'll good for him."
"If news of children does not lighten his mood then I am at a loss as to what will," Velen said. "Before falling into this sullen state, he would occasionally amuse some of our orphans. He would take some nearby water, and turn it into a small snow shower for them. A dance of perfect crystalline flakes." He smiled. "They loved that. For a moment, the shadow of the monster vanished. Those that would call him such should see him around children."
Nameria and Jace locked hands together, their faces beaming with happiness and hope. As they came to the door of Neltharion's room, Velen stopped.
"I'll go and announce you," he said. "Ease him into the presence of guests. And then let you in. If he is not amenable to...coming with you...do you have a plan to get him out of bed?"
"We do," said Jace.
"We came prepared," said Nameria.
"Good, I have tried my best," said Velen. "I wish I could do more."
Velen slowly entered the room, the hulking form of Neltharion bending the bed-frame and spilling off the edges of the mattress. The blankets and the pillows by Neltharion's head had not moved since the morning. A silvery line of tears left a dried trail down his snout. Velen knelt, placing his hands on the dragon's neck, and brushing down the grain of his scales.
"You have two very important visitors," he said. "Two of your flight. They need to talk to you."
Neltharion's chest expanded with an slow inhale, but he made no further indication of hearing. Velen rose and sighed, shaking his head. He waved Nameria and Jace into the room and then silently departed, leaving them alone with their Aspect.
The despairing form of Neltharion filled their senses, the sorrow radiating from him squeezing their hearts and bringing tears unbidden. It was a near physical force, sending Nameria staggering into Jace's shoulder. His emotions tore at them like fabric twisting in a gail. Jace's knees buckled, dumping her to the floor. Neltharion's form blurred as her eyes filling with stinging tears. She reached out for him, cupping her tanned hand to his cheek.
Nameria could not hold back, a pull urging her to lay against his body and wrap him in her arms. She gave in, laying her head upon Neltharion's shoulder, burying her face in his scales.
His loss echoed through them, reverberations of betrayal and ever-deepening sorrow. And in that they could finally understand what prevented him from returning to the flight.
He was trapped in his sorrow.
His aura was sick, its depressing hum only compounding the downward spiral of misery.
Jace latched her golden red eyes to Neltharion's emerald orbs.
"Neltharion, please, don't give in. Not when we have found hope."
"Please," said Nameria. "We will not leave you. We will never leave you. Please do not leave us."
"We need you," said Jace. "The whole flight needs you. Please come back to Deepholm with us."
His eyes drooped, filling with tears as a keening call escaped his lips. The broken dam heralded a flood, one keen following another. They continued for a time, slowly degrading to soft whimpering.
"Neltharion, please listen just for a moment," said Nameria. "Listen--we may be able to repair our losses in Theramore."
"We want to nurture clutches again," said Jace. "Make new whelps, strengthen our flight."
Neltharion curled tighter, his eyes slamming shut.
"We knew you might refuse this notion," said Jace. "But one thing you've always overlooked is Ruthian's potential. He is not related to any of us. He could help bring about new, healthy whelps."
"They won't be like the...defective eggs...we recovered from Onyxia," said Nameria. "They would be healthy."
"We're not asking you to mate with either me or Nameria," said Jace. "We're asking you to approve of us mating with Ruthian. Give us your blessing as well as your energy to ensure that the eggs will develop into healthy whelps."
"Empower Ruthian," said Nameria. "So that he could help us bring about a new generation."
Jace pressed her forehead against Neltharion's snout.
"This is what we all want, what we all need," she said. "The flight has all agreed to this. We all voted for this. Please--help us."
"Azeroth needs new black whelps," said Nameria. "Our flight helps you protect the world, and we must do so again. Give us this chance to put our losses behind us, and become strong again."
Neltharion released a pitiful whimper, curling up tighter. He shut his eyes.
"Will you say nothing?" Jace asked.
"Will you do nothing?" Nameria asked.
The silence persisted, stewing their sorrow into frustration. They withdrew from the well of Neltharion's emotions and pulled away. The two females exchanged glances, nodding in agreement.
Nameria brought out the hearthstone, grazing her thumb across the swirling rune on its surface. It lit up, glowing brilliantly with readiness. A toss sent it bouncing under the bed.
There was a flash, followed by a rush of air as a portal opened, swallowing Neltharion and the bed both.
Nameria and Jace leapt into the center just before the portal closed behind them after, disappearing through the portal before it closed, leaving the room still, quiet.
And empty...
Velen cracked the door and peeped through. A hopeful smile spread across his face.