The Sundering wwotat-3

by Richard A. Knaak

  To the newcomer, he finally suggested, “Ride to the tauren! Tell them Captain Shadowsong asks of the people of Huln for some warriors to come with you and strengthen the wedge!” Jarod recalled something else, “Ask also for their their best archers…”

  When he had finished, the other night elf, his own expression slightly less distraught, rode off to obey. Jarod barely had time to refocus his thoughts before two more came. The captain could only guess that he had been seen organizing resistance and that someone had foolishly believed he spoke in the name of the dead Stareye.

  But despite knowing better, Jarod could not simply turn them away. He listened to their needs and battled to find some solution, however temporary.

  To his surprise, one of the Moon Guard arrived shortly after. Although clearly one of the senior spellcasters, the robed figure looked relieved to confront Captain Shadowsong.

  “The archers are slowing the damage the winged fiends have been causing! We’ve been able to reorganize, though three of our number are dead and two more are incapacitated! We are trying to deal with those above and the warlocks in the distance, but to do so we’ll need more protection!”

  Jarod tried not to swallow. Hoping to avoid showing the sorcerer his uncertainty, he pretended to glance further down the left flank. There he saw several rows of soldiers milling about as they tried to reach the oncoming demons. The press of bodies in front of them prevented those in back from being of any benefit and, in fact, often shoved the ones ahead into the blades of their foe.

  He pulled one soldier from the square. “You! Ride with him over there and take a squad from those ranks! Tell the rest to keep back a step and shore up the front lines as needed!”

  On and on the demands came. They never allowed Jarod to catch his breath. There came a point when even the Earthen and the other allies began requesting his assistance. Jarod, never able to find someone of greater authority, ever answered their questions and prayed that he had not sent innocent lives to the slaughter.

  At any moment, the captain expected to see the horde overwhelm his people, but somehow, the night elves held. The combined efforts of the Moon Guard and archers at last proved too decimating for the winged demons and they fled back, many still with the pots full. The host’s casualties had been high, but as matters quieted a little, Jarod hoped that something he had done had kept them from being higher yet.

  When the captain finally had the opportunity to return to Rhonin, it was with half a dozen subordinates in tow. He had not asked for them; various officers in the host had insisted they stay with Jarod in case he needed to alert them to some need. The former Guard officer found their presence unsettling, for they treated him as if he were on par with either Ravencrest or Stareye. Jarod Shadowsong was no noble and certainly no commander; if the host had managed to recover from the near disaster, it was due mainly to the fighters themselves.

  To his tremendous relief, the wizard was alive and untouched. Unfortunately, he still did not seem to see or hear anything despite looking as if awake.

  Jarod tried once more to give him water, but to no avail. Frustrated, he turned to one of the soldiers and snapped, “Find me one of the senior Moon Guard! Hurry!”

  Yet, it was not one of the sorcerers who came back with the rider, but rather a pair of figures clad in the armor of the Sisterhood of Elune. Worse, the senior priestess was none other than Maiev.

  “When I was told that the officer in command needed a spellcaster, I never dreamed he was speaking of you, little brother!”

  Captain Shadowsong had no time for his sister’s dominant tone. “Spare me the wit, Maiev! The wizard’s caught in some spell that I think one of the master demons cast! Can Elune help free him?”

  She eyed him curiously for a moment, then knelt beside Rhonin. “I’ve never dealt with one of his kind, but I assume he’s similar enough to us that the Mother Moon will grant me the chance. Jia, assist me. We shall see what we can do.”

  The second priestess stepped over to Rhonin’s other side. The two raised hands to chest level with the palms out, then pressed their fingertips together. The moment the priestesses touched one another, a faint, silver glow arose from their hands. It quickly spread along their arms and around the rest of their bodies.

  Maiev and her companion began chanting. Their words made no sense to Jarod, but he knew that the Sisterhood of Elune had a special language of their own that they used to commune with the lunar deity.

  The glow surrounding the females flowed over the wizard. His body jerked slightly, then relaxed.

  Another rider joined the group. “Where’s the commander?”

  Several of the past messengers had called Jarod by that very title despite his constant insistence that they do no such thing. Angered by the interruption at so delicate a time, he spun around and blurted, “You’ll keep your mouth shut and wait until I tell you it’s the right time to speak — ”

  The mounted figure’s eyes widened. Only at that point did the captain see the gold and emerald trim on the shoulders or the emblem on the breast plate.

  Jarod had insulted a noble.

  But instead of taking offense, the rider nodded in apology and quieted. In an attempt to hide his shock, Jarod quickly turned back to watch his sister’s work.

  Maiev was sweating. The second priestess shook. Rhonin’s body quivered and his already-pale flesh looked as white as the moon.

  The wizard jolted to a sitting position. His mouth opened wide in a silent scream — and then, for the first time since being struck down, Rhonin blinked.

  A groan escaped the human. He would have slumped back against the rock, possibly striking his head, but the captain acted, managing to thrust a hand in between.

  With a sigh, the wizard closed his eyes. His breathing grew regular.

  “Is he — ?”

  “He’s free of the demon’s hold, brother,” Maiev replied somewhat shakily. “He will rest as long as he needs.” She rose. “It was a hard struggle, but Elune was generous, praise be.”

  “Thank you.”

  Again, his sister eyed him with curiosity. “No thanks are necessary from you of all people. Come, Jia. There are many in need of healing.”

  Jarod followed Maiev’s departure, then turned his attention back to the noble. “Forgive me, my lord, but — ”

  The rider waved off his words. “My troubles can wait. I failed to see that you sought aid for the foreign sorcerer. I am Lord Blackforest. I know you, don’t I?”

  “Jarod Shadowsong, my lord.”

  “Well, Commander Shadowsong, I, for one, am grateful you didn’t perish along with Lord Stareye and the others. There were reports you tried to save him even in the end.”

  “My lord — ”

  Blackforest ignored his interruption. “I’m trying to gather some of the others. Stareye’s strategy was clearly inept, may the Mother Moon forgive any slight toward the dead. We hope to come up with something better — if we’re to survive. You’ll want to be there, of course. To guide matters, I assume.”

  This time, Jarod could not speak. He nodded, more out of reflex than anything. The noble apparently took this as determined agreement and gratefully nodded back.

  “With your permission, then, I’ll have things arranged at my tent and begin gathering the rest.” Blackforest nodded once more, then turned his mount around and rode off.

  “Looks — looks like — you’ve come up in the world,” a voice rasped.

  He glanced down to see Rhonin conscious. The wizard still looked pale, but not so much as before. Jarod quickly bent down and gave him water from a sack. Rhonin eagerly drank.

  “I’d feared that the spell had done damage to your mind. How fare you, Master Rhonin?”

  “I feel as if a regiment of Infernals are battering my skull from the inside… and that’s an improvement.” The human sat up straight. “I gather there was trouble after I was struck down.”

  The captain told him, keeping it as brief as possible and downpla
ying his role. Despite that, however, the wizard looked at Jarod in obvious admiration.

  “Looks like Krasus was right about you. You did more than save the day, this time. You likely saved the world, at least for the moment.”

  Cheeks darkening, the night elf vehemently shook his head. “I am no leader, Master Rhonin! All I did was try to survive.”

  “Well, nice of you to help the rest of us survive while you were at it. So, Stareye’s dead. Sorry for him, not so sorry for the host. Glad to see some of the nobles have come to their senses. Maybe there’s hope yet.”

  “Surely you don’t think I’m going to meet with them?” Jarod had a vision of Blackforest and the others surrounding him, their eyes all staring. “I’m only a Guard officer from Suramar!”

  “Not anymore…” The wizard tried to rise, finally signaling his companion to help him. As he straightened, Rhonin met Jarod’s gaze. The human’s unique eyes seized his. “Not anymore.”

  * * *

  Korialstrasz had not yet learned the patience of his elder counterpart, Krasus, and so it was that he began to fidget. The red dragon knew well that it would be some time before the party would return — assuming that they did return — and although he tried to find peace during his wait, he could not. There were too many things running through his thoughts. Alexstrasza, the Burning Legion, the implications of Krasus’s presence, and more. He also recalled too well the punishment he had taken at Neltharion’s paws. Now his other self was fast approaching the sanctum of that fiend and there was more than a little concern that Krasus might fall prey to the Demon Soul.

  In frustration, the red giant began scratching at the mountainside with one talon. Massive chunks of stone and earth that were no more than pebbles to the dragon dropped into the valley below. This, however, entertained Korialstrasz only for an hour. More agitated than ever, he started eyeing the dark sky and wondering if perhaps it was safe to take to the air for a few minutes.

  A low roar echoed through the mountains.

  All frustration thrust aside, a now alert Korialstrasz slipped down from his perch, planting his huge body on the side of the peak. He peered up, seeking the source of the sound.

  A dark form slowly flew overhead. A small black dragon. The pace at which the other leviathan flew marked him as a sentinel.

  Korialstrasz quietly hissed. Had the other simply been flying off somewhere, there would have been no cause for worry. However, that the black prowled this particular region meant danger to the plan.

  Yet, he was crossed up as to whether he should remain hidden or seek out the guardian. If the others had not been noticed, then attacking the black might prove a fatal mistake. The sentinel could escape and warn his master. Then again, if left alone, the other dragon might discover Krasus and the rest, anyway, on his return flight.

  Korialstrasz clutched the mountainside tight as he attempted to come to some quick conclusion. If the black flew too far away, the red might not be able to catch up to him —

  The rock face under his claws gave way.

  Caught unaware, Korialstrasz tumbled from the mountain as the entire side collapsed. The dragon instinctively spread his wings and righted himself, suffering only a few hard pelts from the massive avalanche he had inadvertently caused. He shook his head, clearing his tangled thoughts.

  The roar in his ears was the only warning he had before the black struck him from behind.

  Despite being slightly smaller, Korialstrasz’s attacker hit with powerful fury. The red was thrust toward the jagged ground at a ferocious speed. His left wing scraped painfully against the rocks.

  Korialstrasz managed to stretch one forepaw against another peak, digging his claws deep. His momentum tore tons of rock from the other mountain, but slowed his descent enough to give him time to think. The red dragon tipped to one side, startling his foe and causing the black to lose hold.

  As the second dragon tumbled back, Korialstrasz righted himself. He tried to rise up again, but his adversary still had one pair of claws on his back. The added weight made the strain terrible, but Korialstrasz would not give in.

  Flapping as hard as he could, he twisted in mid-air. Using his tail, the red swung his rival against the nearest peak.

  The black collided hard, sending a storm of rock below. His claws came free, but not before tearing off several scales. Korialstrasz roared. He felt blood trickle down his leg.

  For a moment, both giants forgot the battle as they recovered from their injuries. Then, Korialstrasz’s foe made a lunge for his neck. The larger dragon got his wing up in time, literally batting away the black.

  The strike knocked the last bit of fight out of Neltharion’s servant. With a last defiant roar, the ebony leviathan veered away from Korialstrasz.

  “No!” Now that they had joined in battle, he dared not let the other dragon flee. The sentinel would alert his master, who would, in turn, suspect that more than a single red dragon lurked in the vicinity.

  The black was smaller and, therefore, very swift, but Korialstrasz was sleek and cunning. As his adversary slipped around a passage, Korialstrasz took a different route. He had spent enough time staring at the landscape while he waited to know where some of the different valleys remerged.

  Through the mountains, he flew. Ahead, the left side of a fork offered an enticing turn, but Korialstrasz knew that it was the one favoring the right that would lead him back to his quarry.

  In the distance, he heard the hard flapping of his enemy’s wings. The red dragon grew concerned. He should have passed the other by this point, but the sound gave indication that the black one was instead widening the gap.

  Pushing himself to his limits, Korialstrasz neared the point he had been seeking. Only a short distance more. He could not hear the flapping, but felt certain that he had finally gotten ahead.

  He crossed back into the other valley —

  There was a near collision of wings. Both dragons roared, more from surprise than fury. Korialstrasz spun around twice and the black dragon rammed sideways into a small peak, shattering the top.

  But momentum was now with the smaller of the two. The black pushed ahead, regaining precious air.

  Shaking his head and damning his poor luck, Korialstrasz pursued. He would catch the other dragon, no matter what it took. Too much had already been lost in this struggle…

  His determination hardened, Korialstrasz roared once more and continued the chase.

  But in pursuing the obvious, the red leviathan had missed something smaller below. Eyes watched — those who had eyes, that is — as the two huge beasts vanished in the distance.

  “An impressive aerial display, don’t you think, Captain Varo’then?”

  The scarred night elf snorted. “A fair enough fight, though too short.”

  “And not enough bloodshed for you, I’d wager.”

  “Never enough,” responded Azshara’s servant. “But more than enough prattle, Master Illidan. Is this proof we’re close at last?”

  Illidan casually adjusted the scarf across his ruined eyes. For him, the battle between two such titans had been far more interesting, for these great creatures were of magic origins and so the sky had been filled with astonishing energies and brilliant colors. Malfurion’s brother had come to admire his new senses, they revealing to him a world such as he had never realized existed.

  “I’d think that obvious, captain, although don’t you find it interesting to have not only a black dragon but a red one near here? Why do you suppose the second was in this area?”

  “You said it yourself. This is a place where the beasts live.”

  The sorcerer shook his head. “I said this was where we’d find the lair of the huge black one. That red was here for a specific reason.”

  Varo’then’s marred face grew uglier as he realized just what his companion meant. “The other dragons want the disk! Makes the only sense!”

  “Yes…” Illidan urged his mount along, the officer following. Behind them marched the demo
n warriors. “But they’d be so easily caught. You saw how they were beaten.” He considered further. “I think I recognized the markings on that red.”

  “What of it? All those beasts are the same!”

  “Spoken like a Highborne.” Illidan rubbed his chin as he mused. “No, I think that is the one I’ve met… and if that’s so, we might just have some familiar company ahead.”

  Eight

  Malfurion watched the goblin wend his way through the narrowing cracks and while he understood that Krasus had needed to animate the body, it still unnerved him. Even the mage’s reassurance that this was a spell little used and even less desired by his kind did not completely assuage the night elf.

  Yet, he gave no outer sign of his emotions save to stand as far as he could from the creature. Curiously, the goblin’s movements grew more adept as time passed, almost to the point where he seemed to have actually come back to life.

  To the druid’s surprise, it was Krasus who first mouthed what the others had been long thinking.

  “How much farther?” muttered the pale, robed figure. “This abuse of the tenets of life disgusts me more and more…”

  As if in answer, the goblin suddenly bent over. Malfurion glanced at Krasus, thinking that perhaps the mage had become so sick of what he had been doing that he had finally just released the body from the spell. However, the contemplative expression his companion wore said otherwise.

  “Watch…” Krasus murmured. “Watch…”

  The animated goblin touched a stone lying near the base of the mountain. To Malfurion’s eyes, the stone appeared to be just a random one that had no doubt fallen from the peak some time back.

  Yet, as soon as the creature turned it slightly to the right, the entire rock face shimmered — and more than half of it disappeared.

  Brox let out a grunt. Krasus nodded.

  “Very cunning,” he remarked. “Look, where once there was stone, to the left is now a narrow passage cut through the peak itself.”

  They followed their macabre guide for several more minutes, then Krasus suddenly had the goblin come to a halt.