“Yes . . . I fought my future self . . . when I had the power to fight. Now, I—we—are as any other dragon. The time of the Aspects is past and I say thus that the time of the Wyrmrest Accord is also.”
Again, Kalec noted no disagreement from the sisters. “But the three of you are the combined wisdom of our kind! The Aspects have always—”
Ysera thrust her snout into his face. “We . . . are not . . . Aspects.”
“But the three of you are still—”
“We understand your concern, Kalec,” Alexstrasza said with such clear pity that Kalec winced. “But our time is done and Azeroth must look to other defenders.”
As she finished, Nozdormu strode past them toward one of the exits. Ysera followed suit.
Kalec could not believe what he was seeing. “Where are you going?”
The bronze leviathan looked over his shoulder. “Home. We are done here. We should not have even bothered to have this gathering.”
“He is correct on the last score,” the Life-Binder agreed reluctantly—and only then did Kalec realize that he had been thinking of all of them in terms of titles they themselves clearly no longer acknowledged. They were, in their own eyes, simply three dragons among many now.
“Alexstrasza! Surely you at least—”
It was as if his mother stared down at him. The pity had been replaced by care. “Azeroth will survive without us. You—you who were thrust only so recently into all this—you will survive without us.” Alexstrasza looked to the departing bronze. “Nozdormu! A moment! We will meet once more, in a month! If we are to dissolve the Accord, we shall do so with proper respect!”
He paused, then glanced back. “You are correct. It does deserve the proper burial. Agreed. One month from this day.”
The gargantuan red focused on her sister. “Ysera?”
“I agree. It makes perfect sense.”
Alexstrasza faced Kalec. So shocked that he was unable to speak, he vehemently shook his head.
“Three to one,” the female red murmured. “So . . . it is decided.”
Nozdormu had not even waited for her declaration, the bronze and his lieutenant already moving on. Ysera and her daughter were close behind.
Alexstrasza watched them for a moment, then turned and, with a grace incredible even for a dragon, slipped out behind Nozdormu and her sister. Afrasastrasz hesitated only long enough to give the blue a sympathetic expression before following her.
Kalec had no choice but to follow or be left alone. Yet, despite his youth and swiftness, by the time he reached the outside, the others were already in the midst of going their separate ways.
“Please reconsider!” he roared, his plea echoing throughout the wastes. Kalec’s mind was awhirl. He had actually come here with troubles of his own that he had hoped to discuss with one or more of the elder dragons, and instead he found himself trying desperately just to keep the once seemingly eternal Accord together.
Nozdormu spread his wings to their full span and took to the sky without so much as a last glance at the younger dragon. He was already a small dot when Ysera deigned to speak one final time.
“In truth, we considered . . . yes . . . yes, we did . . . all this long ago. We just needed one of us to speak of it.” The emerald behemoth leapt up into the air. “It was only chance that it happened here, barely after you arrived. I apologize for that, young Kalec.”
And then, there remained only Alexstrasza and him.
“Fare you well, Kalec. I’m sorry that you came all this way for only a few empty moments . . . and such a turn of events as you certainly did not expect or deserve to be confronted by.”
With that, the great red took off, leaving a speechless Kalec to watch as the three vanished among the dark clouds enshrouding not only the wastes, but nearly all of the bleak continent of Northrend.
What happened here? the blue asked himself over and over. What just happened here?
For a brief time, Kalec had thought that things might be taking a turn for the better when he had agreed to stay in Dalaran and, as the mage Khadgar suggested, join the Kirin Tor. But soon, Kalec had seen the distrust in the eyes of the other magi. He was a blue dragon; that was all that mattered to them. In the end, he had made excuses to Jaina, citing the need to oversee the Nexus’s crumbling defensive spells and gather its substantial and powerful collection of artifacts together.
Kalec had actually looked forward to this gathering, hoping for some encouragement on several fronts. His own dragonflight had all but fallen apart. With the debacle concerning the Focusing Iris and its theft, he had felt that he had failed in every regard as a leader and that had led to the mass exodus of the other blue dragons. The Nexus had become a place of emptiness, and at times, Kalec had found himself without the inclination to truly fight the departures.
And now, the ones to whom he had desperately sought to turn had themselves turned from the world.
A further irony was that despite wanting to come here, Kalec had considered not making the journey. He had been ashamed at his failure to find the Focusing Iris and the dreadful events that had come to pass because of that, especially the destruction of Jaina’s own realm of Theramore. Kalec had at first not wanted to admit his humiliations to those who had considered him their equal despite the incredible difference in age and experience. Yet, in the end, Kalec had chosen to come . . . only to find himself in this new debacle.
A chill ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the elements. The blue dragon looked back at Wyrmrest Temple, once a place of legend to him. Now, he suspected that he was staring at it, if not for the last time, then likely the next to last. Without the Accord, there was only one reason to come to this stark land . . . and that was to die.
But for all his misery, Kalec was not yet ready for death. His youth might be a key factor in his failures, but it also urged him on, even if he had no idea what to do next.
The wind picked up, its rush through the temple creating a surreal howl that finally stirred the blue to begin his own departure. With a beat of his wings, he rose high. Once airborne, the urge to be far from Wyrmrest magnified. Kalec focused on the direction home and increased his pace.
But just as he left Wyrmrest behind, something nagged at his senses. Although no longer an Aspect, Kalec was still a blue dragon and thus more attuned to arcane magic in all its varied forms. The trace was so unique that despite his mood, Kalec sought out its source.
But a first glance at the landscape below failed to give the dragon any clue as to where it lay. Concentrating, Kalec managed to better pinpoint the general area. The catastrophe in the temple momentarily forgotten, the blue descended for a closer look.
His path took him over the remains of more than one dragon. Despite the preservative qualities of the constant cold weather, the wind and other elements eventually wore away all recognizable traces of the dead. Even those already reduced to bone would someday not even be recognizable for the massive, proud beasts that they had once been. After what had happened in the temple, the finality of the scene below struck him anew, but he continued down despite misgivings.
And then at last he sensed from where exactly the magical emanations originated. Kalec veered in that direction—and came to a jarring halt in the air. So stunned was he by what he beheld that it was all he could do to remember to keep flapping his wings.
It was perhaps its gargantuan size that had permitted the skeleton to remain nearly intact even after so very long. Yet, almost as arresting as its incredible dimensions was the angle at which it lay. Nearly all the other frozen remains scattered through the vast, isolated region lay as if those dragons had simply gone to sleep. Indeed, most had done just so, landing and, with the aid and comfort of others of their kind, breathing their last with relatively little suffering.
Not so, this mammoth creature. This leviathan had died violently.
&nbs
p; And so, in the bloody process, had many, many others.
The cracked muzzle of the skull revealed part of a huge maw that could have engulfed Kalec. The lower jaw was nowhere to be seen. The neck area twisted in an awkward manner that revealed just how devastating the collision with the ground had been. The torso, too, lay violently twisted, the spine arched at an impossible angle. The half-buried ribs formed a winding tunnel that rivaled the great chambers of the temple in height.
Within that macabre passage, Kalec pinpointed the location of the mysterious emanations. The dragon shuddered, feeling a sense of dread. Then, steeling himself, the blue leviathan dived in among the gigantic frosty bones.
Dived in among the bones of the Father of Dragons . . . Galakrond.
TWO
AMONG THE DEAD
Kalec landed within the ribs with some lingering trepidation. Even though he knew it was only his imagination, there was the constant feeling that the bones might now stir, that Galakrond would rise and engulf him. Even the howling of the wind through the bones seemed to take on a supernatural life, as if the spirits of all the dead dragons here tried to warn him of his folly.
But Kalec still remained more driven by his curiosity. Besides, he had nothing to return to at the moment except more troubles.
The blue had to crouch as he neared the location he sought, so deep had Galakrond’s corpse sunk into the harsh soil. That added a claustrophobic touch to an already uneasy situation, but still Kalec was undeterred. He had never sensed a magical trace such as this and found it most curious that it should happen near a place that he had visited more than once.
At first, it occurred to him that perhaps someone had recently set it into place; after all, the rotting servants of the undead Scourge had spent much time excavating the skeleton, their leader hoping to animate the bones and create a monstrous frost wyrm. However, they had been driven away before they could dig too deep and from what Kalec sensed, what he sought was buried very, very far down. With that in mind, the blue could not help but think that whatever drew him here had lain undisturbed for a long, long time—likely since these remains had fallen here.
The dragon concentrated, then exhaled. A purple sphere formed in the air, then drifted gently to the spot. As it touched the soil, a slight mist arose. Under Kalec’s guidance, the magical globe melted away thousands upon thousands of years of frost and ice, then slowly burrowed into the ground beneath.
But barely had Kalec’s spell pushed below the surface than the sphere faded. Despite the blue’s best efforts to keep the spell intact, the globe finally dissipated far short of its goal.
Peering in frustration at the shallow hole, Kalec stretched his forepaws wide. Arcane bands of energy draped over the hole, scratching away the ground. As if guided by invisible hands, the bands continued to scrape away at the spot as Kalec watched. The blue dragon’s eyes finally narrowed in satisfaction as the hole grew deeper and deeper—
Images flashed through his mind.
A yellowish proto-dragon arguing with an orange one.
A charcoal-gray proto-dragon laughing harshly.
A robed and hooded figure—a humanoid figure with one arm visible.
A white proto-dragon shrieking as it shriveled to a skeleton.
Another dragon, faint hints of green remaining, flying toward Kalec. Dry skin hung limply on rotting bone, and the eyes of the oncoming creature were milky white and without life . . . and yet still it charged forward, ready to strike.
With a roar, Kalec stumbled back. He crashed into the rib cage, which, sealed in place by layer upon layer of ice, not only held against the blue’s weight, but left the dragon momentarily stunned by the collision.
What—what just happened? Kalec shook his head, then eyed the hole. At some point, the second spell had also faded, but for the moment, Kalec cared only about the visions. They had been so lifelike that he had felt as if he had been there participating in the brief scenes. Yet, none of the images made any sense, especially the last, exceedingly ominous two.
Shaking his head again, the blue investigated the hole. More than ever, he could sense the source of the emanations very near. He only had to dig a little deeper.
Rather than risk a third spell, Kalec hunched over and began tearing at the dirt and frost with his claws. Digging still required great effort, but he made respectable progress. The emanations grew stronger, yet no more visions assailed him.
A soft, lavender aura rose from the hole. Kalec immediately hesitated. When nothing else happened, he cautiously dug around the edges.
At first, he was rewarded only with more dirt, but as Kalec shifted his attention to the center, his claws finally came into contact with something other than earth.
With a delicate touch his reptilian form belied, the dragon brought forth a small octagonal object made from some metal that Kalec could not identify. It reminded him of gold, but if he held it a different way, it looked as if it were simple iron. Tilted in another direction, it took on the brilliant white appearance of rare palladium.
And all the while, the lavender aura surrounded it . . . yet also seemed separate, as if it were clouds over a tiny, oddly shaped world.
Fascinated, Kalec sought to probe the mysterious artifact. The moment he tried, though, the aura faded. The blue quickly ceased his probing, but the aura did not return. Indeed, now the emanations had also ceased.
The dragon growled. He almost put the tiny artifact down, but finally clutched it tight. Backing up, Kalec located a spot where the gap between ribs was wide enough for him to exit. As he stepped out in the open, the gnawing feeling that he was being watched overtook him. Kalec looked to his right.
The empty eye sockets of the Father of Dragons met his gaze.
Kalec let out a grim laugh at his momentary paranoia. He glanced down at the artifact one more time in order to make certain his grip was good, then took to the heavens. As the blue left the desolation below, he found himself breathing much easier. Kalec grunted and turned his attention to the Nexus. There, he thought he might be able to find out more about the object he carried. The blues had gathered much arcane knowledge during Malygos’s millennia as Aspect of Magic, and even though Kalec himself no longer bore that title, the knowledge was still his for the studying.
That there were other, more pressing matters, such as the dissolution of the blue dragonflight itself, had never left his thoughts. The artifact gave him a perfect excuse not to think about his latest failures, just as fulfilling the dangerous role of Aspect had once let him now and then try to forget Anveena.
The blue dragon grimaced, then shook away such thoughts. Kalec arced. Wyrmrest Temple briefly came into view below. The blue hissed. Like the thing in his paw, it was a relic of the past, but unlike the artifact, for Kalec, the temple held no more interest. It was as dead a thing to him as the bones from which he had just departed.
And as dead as the future he had once thought awaited him as an Aspect.
• • •
The Nexus was more than merely the realm of the Spell-Weaver and the blue dragonflight. It was a place of immense magical power, a gathering of forces from all Azeroth. Although its physical appearance was that of an icy, timeworn fortress, the Nexus was actually a formation riddled with tunnels and caves, and had once been protected by an extensive and intricate series of wards that permitted only the blue dragons safe entrance. However, with the wards fading, Kalec’s excuse for returning had more merit to it than even he had originally thought.
Some distance away, two blue dragons soared through the air. Both headed south, whether intending to ever return, Kalec did not know. He tried not to think about their departure as he neared. Although Kalec had been late to the gathering at Wyrmrest, his tardiness had not been due to having to fly any greater distance than Alexstrasza and the rest. The Nexus was actually based on the frozen island of Coldarra—situated near the n
orthwest edge of the Borean Tundra, which itself was a part of Northrend, the very same continent containing the Dragon Wastes. In truth, the journey had been a relatively short one. Kalec had been last to the Accord for reasons that he believed would have shocked even the legendary three.
But all thought of either her or the Accord faded as Kalec entered the protective perimeter of the Nexus. He felt a gentle tingle as he passed through the invisible network of spells. For now they still held, but they were already even weaker than when he had left for the gathering.
Kalec entered through the passage that led into his sanctum. Again and again, he sensed the brief, almost negligible touch of active spells. How much longer they would last, he could not say. Not too long, though.
There was a sound from ahead. Another male suddenly crossed his path. Kalec, not expecting anyone in the Nexus, came to an abrupt halt.
“Hail, Spell-Weaver,” the older dragon intoned, at the same time bowing his head. It said something for the size of the passages that both not only could face each other with ease, but would be able to pass by when necessary.
Shaking his head, Kalec replied, “That title is no longer mine, Jaracgos.”
“As you wish. I am glad that you returned when you did. I would have felt extremely guilty otherwise.”
Kalec tried to head off what he knew was coming. “Jaracgos, you don’t—”
“Please, I must speak.” Although older, the other blue was smaller than Kalec. “I have loyally followed the Spell-Weaver my entire existence, be the one with that title Malygos or you. I have entered fierce battle, pursued dangerous quests, and never shirked in any other duty. . . .”
“I know that. You were one of those I always admired. You never sought glory for yourself. It is something I have tried to emulate.”
The elder dragon cleared his throat, a sound that echoed through the rocky passage. He looked down. “You only make this harder. Kalec, I have had notions I have long wished to pursue, interests in the arcane I never had the chance to study. To do so, I must travel far—”
Dawn of the Aspects: Part I Page 2