World of Warcraft: Dawn of the Aspects: Part II

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by Richard A. Knaak


  Malygos’s heart pounded from tension as the proto-dragon drew nearer to where the lair was presumed to be. The peaks there were so tall it seemed that they were trying to touch the cloud-enshrouded sun. Such giant mountains would be likely to provide caverns large enough to house a monster the size of Galakrond.

  Something below caught Malygos’s attention. He dived toward it. At first, Kalec saw only rock, but then he realized that a portion of that rock was of a disquieting and familiar color.

  The bones had lain there for some time, possibly four or five seasons. Those that were visible indicated a beast as large as many proto-dragons—or, as Malygos discovered after scraping away the earth from one area, it was an actual proto-dragon.

  This one had perished violently. Many of the bones were cracked, and the partial skull that verified just what lay there had been crushed by a tremendous force.

  Galakrond, Kalec knew. Here was an early victim. While to him it only served to show just how long Galakrond had been on his murderous rampage, Malygos evidently saw something more in the bones.

  Although no one had yet witnessed how Galakrond reduced some of his victims to emaciated corpses that would rise as parasitic undead, the evidence of their existence was without question after Malygos’s battles. Yet Kalec now wondered, if this was one of the leviathan’s prey, why had it not transformed as the others had?

  Silence reigned about them, but something made Malygos look to his right. To Kalec’s observation, there was nothing to see. Even a proto-dragon as courageous as Malygos could not be blamed for being jumpy under such conditions.

  Returning to the bones, Malygos nudged a few around. With little exception, they revealed that Galakrond had ripped apart and chewed up this unfortunate creature. Malygos’s memories of a much smaller but still imposing Galakrond briefly arose, giving Kalec a startling glimpse of how the latter had changed. Galakrond as seen in the earlier stage had looked much more like a normal proto-dragon and not nearly large enough to swallow others whole. His body also had had a smoother, streamlined appearance. His coloring had been more muted, and the eyes had not had that incessant hungering look to them.

  Malygos continued to ferret around among the bones, seeking clues. It was yet another hint—not that Kalec needed one—of how intricate his host’s thinking was compared with that of many of the other proto-dragons.

  Somehow, he survived, the disembodied blue thought. Somehow, some of them survived . . . but how?

  The proto-dragon tensed again. This time, Malygos looked skyward.

  To the east, a shape already far too massive to be a normal proto-dragon raced toward the mountains—and Malygos’s position.

  The mountains were too far away for Malygos to reach before he would be seen. Kalec’s host had no choice but to flatten himself out where he was. His coloring did not blend with the land, but the hope was that Galakrond would not fly near enough to notice.

  A constant, heavy beat preceded Galakrond, the sound of his vast wings flapping. Malygos knew that with each beat, the gigantic proto-dragon crossed miles. The beat grew louder, closer. Malygos and Kalec knew that Galakrond was almost upon them.

  But then the beat began to recede. Through narrowed eyes, Malygos watched Galakrond head away from him and toward the mountains. However, just as the icy-blue proto-dragon dared draw a new breath, Galakrond halted. Hovering, the behemoth suddenly began heaving as if choking on something.

  Neither Malygos nor Kalec paid much mind at first to whatever assailed Galakrond, the giant creature’s physical appearance drawing their initial attention. Although it could not have been that long since the vision in which they had previously encountered Galakrond, Kalec was especially stunned by how much more misshapen the fiend had become. Not only was Galakrond oddly distorted, but he now had several growths randomly dotting his body. There were also a number of gray splotches that made it seem as if parts of Galakrond were decaying.

  But just as Malygos and Kalec came to grips with this new, deformed Galakrond, the monster disgorged what had caused him such distress.

  Bodies. More than a score of shriveled, limp proto-dragon bodies. They dropped in a horrendous heap to the ground, some flopping about as they struck. Malygos radiated immense distress at the sight, not only because of the awful slaughter but also because among the limp forms, he saw red, brown, gray, and even greenish-yellow bodies.

  Kalec wished at that moment that he could throw up. In all his life, never had he—who had seen so much horror—witnessed something that struck him in such a nightmarish manner. He could imagine the final death throes of each and every victim and knew that so many more had perished the same way.

  He suddenly felt Malygos’s further fear upon seeing this grisly image. Alexstrasza, Ysera, and Neltharion were also in the region, and from a distance, Malygos could not tell whether the other three were among the corpses. Even though Kalec knew that all three had survived this era, he could not help but pick up his host’s growing worry.

  With one last purge, Galakrond finished. The gigantic proto-dragon immediately turned away, then took to the air again. As sharp as they were, Malygos’s eyes could still not make out any detail on the odd growths marking Galakrond’s body. Whether they had something to do with the behemoth’s madness, neither observer could say, but Malygos at least wanted to see them better.

  Yet Kalec’s host was not foolhardy. He waited as Galakrond soared away, watching until the fiend had long vanished into the distance. Only after that did Malygos dare begin to rise—and then he instinctively dropped once more as three other proto-dragons flew in the direction from which Galakrond had originally come.

  Why exactly Malygos had chosen to hide rather than rise and warn the trio was something Kalec sensed that even his host did not quite understand himself. However, as the three neared, their coloring gave hint that perhaps Malygos had taken the wise course.

  The three blue-green proto-dragons soared over the landscape as if undeterred by the potential for disaster. Malygos watched as they neared where Galakrond had last paused. At that point, not at all to his surprise, he recognized Coros as the leader.

  One of the other proto-dragons caught sight of the macabre remnants of Galakrond’s last meal. He immediately hissed to Coros.

  Coros led the descent to the corpses. He alighted near one, studied a few of the bodies for a moment, then glanced in the direction in which the murderous leviathan had headed.

  With a hiss, Coros rose into the air and headed the same way. His two companions followed.

  Malygos—and Kalec—watched with disbelief as the trio raced after Galakrond. Coros did not strike Kalec as suicidal, and Malygos’s own thoughts mirrored agreement. Yet neither could fathom any sane reason for Coros to risk himself to such an extent. If he was simply spying on Galakrond, he was doing so in a far more reckless manner than Malygos.

  Rising, Kalec’s host stared at the vanishing figures. Malygos did not know whether to warn the three or leave them to their doom. Past animosities paled at the moment, Malygos not wishing even Coros a fate such as these other proto-dragons had—

  A ragged hiss erupted from the pile of corpses. Malygos forgot all about Galakrond and Coros as he turned toward the nearby carnage. The first thought flashing through the proto-dragon’s mind was that one of the victims had survived. Malygos started toward the bodies, trying to locate the right one.

  As he neared, another ragged hiss arose from a different direction. Malygos halted, looking there.

  A third hiss came from yet another location.

  Several of the victims began to push up. Heads turned almost as one to stare at Kalec’s host.

  Stare . . . with the empty eyes of the undead.

  THREE

  HUNTED BY THE UNDEAD

  Malygos retreated, the icy-blue proto-dragon already flapping his wings for flight.

  Unfortunately, he failed to see one of the undead creatures rising to his right. Its hiss was his only warning.

 
; A foul mist exhaled by the undead touched his wing. Malygos roared as he felt a coldness that even he could not stand burn deep into his body.

  Despite his agony, Malygos exhaled in turn. Frost covered the attacking creature, but whereas it would have stiffened many an adversary, it only slowed the undead. Still, that gave Kalec’s host just enough time to leap into the air. Ignoring the pain, he pushed higher and higher.

  The chorus of nerve-wracking hisses below gave warning that several of the undead were giving swift pursuit.

  Despite Kalec wishing desperately that the proto-dragon would look down to see how close they were, Malygos kept focused on his ascent. He flew on, seeking the clouds above. Kalec finally understood that his host hoped to evade the winged horrors by losing them in the murkiness of the clouds.

  Malygos did not breathe easier even upon attaining cover. He veered sharply to his left, then, after a short distance, flew level. Behind him, the hisses of the undead spread throughout the clouds. Some sounded farther and farther away, but others still hinted of pursuers yet on his trail.

  Malygos kept his jaws clamped tight, breathing through his nostrils as best he could. Any sound, even an exhalation, might prove enough to catch the attention of the undead. Kalec, forced to accept whatever decision his host made, remained impressed with the proto-dragon’s intelligence. Despite everything, this Malygos was very much the Malygos who had ruled so wisely for so long. This was the Malygos whom a young Kalec—and every other blue dragon—had looked up to in admiration.

  And yet he is still a proto-dragon, Kalec reminded himself. How can this be? How can—

  Another hiss arose, from in front of Malygos.

  The pale red corpse collided with Kalec’s host. The stench of decay poured over Malygos as the undead proto-dragon hissed in his face. Up close, bits of the skull could be seen through the areas where shreds of dry flesh had fallen away. One eye had sunken in. Teeth dripping with a thick mucus snapped at Malygos’s throat. Claws tore at Kalec’s host, ripping through scale.

  Malygos lunged, seizing the undead’s lower jaw in his teeth. With one powerful bite, the proto-dragon ripped the jaw loose.

  A thick black fluid that had once been blood spilled out of the ragged wound. The creature did not falter, but loss of the jaw prevented one source of danger to Malygos. Kalec’s host spit out the rotting piece, then quickly exhaled into the exposed throat.

  The icy mist poured into the undead, freezing the insides. Malygos’s foe contorted. It released its hold on him.

  Malygos whipped his tail forward, striking the frozen torso. The undead shattered, the top and bottom halves falling in separate directions. The winged upper half remained aloft for a moment; then even the pretense of life faded, and the remains dropped out of view below.

  But from much too nearby came more hisses, indications that several of the other undead had been drawn by the commotion. The taste of decaying flesh still on his tongue, Malygos pushed forward.

  Another of the animated corpses materialized from the murky clouds, blocking his path. Malygos attempted to arc past it, only to have a second come for him from that direction.

  Kalec’s host immediately stopped flapping. He dropped like a stone, falling beneath the two undead.

  But as he broke through the bottom of the cloud cover, Malygos discovered that he had escaped two to fall in the midst of four. The empty, hungering faces surrounded him, for the first time causing Malygos to lose hope.

  No! Do something! Kalec silently roared, to no avail. Do something!

  Two of the unliving monsters lunged at Malygos, who managed to evade only one. The second seized his left forearm and wing, snaring Malygos thoroughly. The other three fell upon him.

  Malygos exhaled on the one holding him. Again, the ice only slowed, not stilled, the undead. And even though none of the four moved with the smooth swiftness of the living proto-dragon, they had him caught.

  Kalec felt the certainty of death—or worse—creep into Malygos’s thoughts, even as the proto-dragon continued to struggle.

  Then a hard blast of what seemed like sand caught the foremost fiend in the back. The sand struck with such intensity that the shriveled, dry body cracked in two. The undead proto-dragon twitched wildly as it still sought to keep hold of Malygos.

  There came a ferocious roar from another direction, one so thundering that at first, Kalec and his host both thought that Galakrond had come upon the scene. But the roar was followed by Neltharion’s familiar laugh as he ripped into the side of one of the other clinging corpses.

  The next-nearest corpse turned to attack Neltharion, but again, a blast of sand shot forth, battering the undead so hard that the creature was sent tumbling away. The blast was followed by a brown form that caught the whirling corpse at the throat and bit through the bone and scale with such force that he neatly severed the head from the torso. The body fluttered around aimlessly, heading off in one direction as the newcomer spat out the other remnants with as much obvious distaste as Malygos had earlier displayed.

  With only the fiend with the broken back and one other foe, Kalec’s host was better able to defend himself. He grabbed the grasping hind paw of the ruined creature and thrust it at the second undead proto-dragon. The paw instinctively seized the wing of Malygos’s other attacker, giving the icy-blue male an opening as his foremost opponent struggled to pull free.

  This time, Malygos breathed upon the wings of his broken attacker, exhaling until he had no breath left whatsoever. Vertigo almost overtook Kalec’s host, but the proto-dragon fought to stay conscious.

  Frozen stiff and heavily laden with ice, the wings pulled the one undead down. The second creature—still clutched by the first—also dropped, unfortunately in the process taking Malygos along with both.

  As the three of them fell, Malygos bit at the arm of the second fiend, fighting through the bone as quickly as he could. Past the hissing countenance of the one undead, the proto-dragon and Kalec saw the ground rushing up.

  The bone finally cracked—as did one of Malygos’s teeth. The pain was a momentary annoyance compared with what would happen if he did not finish biting through the limb. Kalec’s host clamped down, and the last of the bone gave way.

  Beating hard, Malygos kicked at his foremost foe as he pushed skyward. With a horrendous ripping sound, the last muscles and tendons separated, enabling him to escape the two undead.

  The animated corpses crashed into the rocky landscape, the collision so intense that both dry forms shattered, sending bits scattering in several directions. By that time, Malygos, the remaining paw finally removed from him and tossed aside, was well into the sky again.

  And there Malygos beheld not only Neltharion and the brown male whom he and Kalec had noted at Talonixa’s gathering, but also Alexstrasza and Ysera. The sisters hovered at opposite ends of the area where the males finished their macabre adversaries, the females keeping wary watch for more threats. Neltharion was in the process of tearing to shreds the creature he fought. Of the brown’s foe there was no sign, which could only mean that the newcomer had readily dispatched the undead.

  As Malygos neared, Neltharion let the last fragments of his opponent fall away.

  Of the group, only the charcoal-gray male looked cheerful. “Ha! We have won!”

  “We can still lose,” the brown reminded him with a hint of impatience. “Many more not-living near. . . .”

  Alexstrasza and Ysera joined the trio. “We see nothing,” the yellowish female muttered. “Nothing but death.”

  Her sister hissed at her, but Ysera looked undaunted. Through Malygos, Kalec learned that Ysera was of the belief that there was still a way to achieve peace with Galakrond. She was not the only one, either.

  Malygos eyed the brown male. “I know you.”

  The other dipped his head. “Nozdormu.”

  “Fight well.”

  Neltharion chuckled. “Fights almost as well as me!”

  Nozdormu’s smile was very brief. “Many no
t-living. Why here? Why now?”

  It became apparent to both Kalec and his host that none of the rest had witnessed anything akin to what Malygos had experienced earlier. Nor had anyone evidently seen Coros seemingly flying after Galakrond. For the moment, Malygos chose not to mention the latter incident, the ghastly sight he had seen before that obviously of much more importance.

  As clever as he was, Malygos was still a proto-dragon. The words he needed to explain properly what he had seen Galakrond do with his victims were hard to put together, especially with danger still close at hand. So bound to Malygos was he that Kalec not only felt the proto-dragon’s frustration but also wished that he could speak for him.

  Through halting words, Malygos did his best. His descriptions were short, but raw emotion filled in many gaps, enhancing his tale. He left the other proto-dragons shocked, even Neltharion. No one disbelieved him, all understanding that Malygos was to be trusted.

  “How?” Alexstrasza demanded with much consternation. “How? What has happened with Galakrond?”

  Malygos thought he understood. “Galakrond must eat much. Galakrond could not find enough. He grew hungry. Too hungry. Ate one of us.”

  Although to Kalec such an act might have once seemed not so shocking—these were proto-dragons, creatures he had thought simply brutes—he saw that they had boundaries much like those of dragons. The proto-dragons might fight to the death against one another, but they did not eat their foes. No matter their savagery, this concept revolted them. Even though they had witnessed Galakrond committing the heinous act on a grand scale, they still did not want to accept it.

  “Was hungry,” Neltharion snarled, his generally cheerful demeanor at last broken by what they were discussing. “Ate one of us. Why eat more? Grazers came north! More food! You saw Galakrond eat! Enough food now! Why still do this?”

  Malygos shook his head. No one else had an answer, either.

  There came more hisses. The proto-dragons glanced toward the sounds. The hisses were still far away but seemed to be getting nearer.

 

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