The icy-blue male took an almost vertical shift in direction, rising several yards before daring to take even the briefest breath. When he did breathe, Malygos found no trace of the scent that pervaded Galakrond’s evil fog.
Adjusting to a more horizontal path of flight, Kalec’s host found the lack of scent continued. He now flew above the mist and its effects.
The other two males flanked him as he soared toward Galakrond. Intent on his feeding, the gargantuan proto-dragon failed to notice the tiny trio above. Even had he done so, it was doubtful that Galakrond would have seen them as anything but amusing. After all, what could three do that hundreds could not?
That was a question for which Malygos did not yet have an answer, even as the three reached a spot almost directly above the monster. He peered down at the terrifying tableau, watching as four more proto-dragons disappeared down Galakrond’s gullet.
“Mist dwindling above,” Nozdormu offered. “Too slow below, though.”
“Little wind,” Neltharion added, sniffing the air. “Not enough.”
Malygos continued to study Galakrond. The only real wind was that caused by the enormous wings. They were beginning to scatter the mist, but not soon enough to save the others.
A curious thought stirred in Malygos’s mind, one that caught Kalec by surprise. Malygos imagined himself when he hunted over the water and would dive with great velocity so as to strike deeper and seize the better prey lurking farther below. His eyes narrowed as he focused on Galakrond’s head.
“The head,” he muttered to his companions. “Breathe little, strike hard.”
Understanding dawned. Neltharion grinned, and Nozdormu nodded.
Satisfied that they knew what to do and that they also knew they might very well die in the attempt, Malygos arced down. As he descended, he beat his wings as hard as he could, pushing his velocity to its utmost. Below, Galakrond’s head appeared not only to swell in size but also to rush up to meet him.
Kalec also understood his host’s plan but had doubts regarding its merits. Still, there was nothing he could do but watch as Malygos reached Galakrond.
At the last moment, Malygos shifted so that his hind paws were underneath him. He pulled himself into a ball as much as possible, even folding his wings tight behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, Malygos saw Neltharion do the same.
In rapid succession, the three proto-dragons struck Galakrond hard on the head.
Malygos dared not hope to cause much, if any, damage to his target. There was only a very minor chance of that. What Kalec’s host did seek was exactly what he got.
He made Galakrond very angry.
The three proto-dragons striking so hard did induce some pain. Their velocity was also enough to shove Galakrond’s head down so that he missed swallowing two more victims. The shock of nearly being devoured finally stirred the pair to some effort of escape.
It was Neltharion who proved most decisive in causing Galakrond momentary distress. When his hind paws struck, they did so with a force only one of his family could create. Seismic waves shook the hard head, briefly making the behemoth disoriented, an added respite that Malygos could not have dreamed of gaining.
But Galakrond recovered too soon. No longer even caring about the pair slowly fleeing from him, he looked up. His wings beat wildly as his fury at actually being assaulted overtook him.
And as Malygos had hoped, the gigantic proto-dragon’s wings did what the weak wind could not. The mist that Galakrond had breathed dissipated rapidly around him.
Proto-dragons began to flee in earnest.
Galakrond did not at first notice that his prey had scattered, so outraged was he at the small foes above him. “Little bugs . . .” he rumbled, each word all but deafening the trio. “A meager meal you are . . . but a meal you are. . . .”
To the surprise of not only Galakrond but also Malygos and Nozdormu, Neltharion plunged toward the misshapen creature. While Galakrond sneered at his puny challenger, Neltharion changed direction and, instead of Galakrond’s snout, attacked the huge proto-dragon’s left eye.
In few other areas could the impetuous Neltharion have caused any actual harm. Even his previous strike had only irritated Galakrond. Yet now, opening his mouth wide, the charcoal-gray male erupted with a cry of sheer force.
Galakrond roared in what was no doubt the first true pain he had felt in some time. He shut the eye hit by Neltharion’s strike, and then, when that proved insufficient to put an end to his agony, he shut the other, too.
“Fly! Fly!” Malygos shouted to anyone who could hear, including Neltharion.
“But we have him!” his friend insisted. “We do!”
Galakrond opened his eyes. The left one was as red as blood, but it could still see as well as the other, and both glared at Neltharion with a rage such as Malygos and Kalec had not seen directed at even the icy-blue male.
Great jaws snapped at Neltharion, who barely evaded them. Nozdormu and Malygos came to the aid of their companion, aiming for the sensitive eyes. Galakrond instinctively looked down, making both of their attacks hit instead his thick, armored brow ridge.
But Malygos had not expected anything more than those results and knew that Nozdormu had thought the same. Once again, Galakrond had been distracted, this time saving not only Neltharion but also Malygos and Nozdormu. With Malygos in the lead, the three took to the higher sky and vanished into the cloud cover.
It did not take Galakrond’s fearsome roar to inform them that he pursued. The three glanced at one another, then split up.
Malygos pushed as high as he could. The thinner air made flying more difficult, but he hoped that would also make it troublesome for Galakrond to follow. The icy-blue male believed that his friends would do as he did. At the very least, the risk they took aided the survivors of Talonixa’s ill-fated plan.
Silence reigned. Struggling to maintain his position, Malygos looked over the clouds. There was no sign of any other proto-dragon, alive or not.
After all Malygos had been through already, the effort to stay aloft grew too taxing to bear. Listening carefully, Kalec’s host still heard nothing. He began to wonder if Galakrond had moved on.
It mattered not. Malygos finally had to descend. He planned to drop only as far as he needed to in order to breathe properly. From there, he would have to judge whether it was safe to continue on.
His heart pounded, both from the struggle for air and from the tension of keeping an eye and nose out for Galakrond. Kalec, experiencing the same, at times forgot that he was but a passenger. He tried to steer toward the east, only to be reminded that this was not his body when Malygos turned south instead, then dived a little farther.
The proto-dragon left the cloud cover. The area was empty. The rest of Talonixa’s followers had wisely fled as fast as they could.
But where, Malygos and Kalec wondered, were Neltharion and Nozdormu? Where, indeed, was Galakrond—
Something suddenly collided with Malygos from behind. The impact sent both him and the object hurtling toward the ground. He fought against the drop.
“No struggle! Galakrond close! No struggle!”
Malygos ceased struggling. He let himself be guided to just above the ground and toward a set of low hills.
Far above, Galakrond’s roar reverberated.
A few small caves appeared in the distance. Malygos’s companion led him into one.
They landed in semidarkness. Kalec’s host turned to face his rescuer. “Alexstrasza . . .”
The fire-orange female hissed quietly. “Galakrond hears well. Must speak softly.”
Before he could answer, he heard movement coming from deeper in the cave. Malygos looked there, expecting Alexstrasza’s sister to be joining them.
Instead, the withered, decaying visage of an undead filled his view.
THREE
UNDER THE SHADOW OF GALAKROND
Kalec shared Malygos’s consternation. He also shared his host’s decision to attack without hesitation
. Malygos started to exhale—
“No!” Ysera collided with him from the side. Malygos’s frost shot deep into the cave.
The undead reached for him . . . or tried to. It also attempted to exhale in turn, but now Malygos saw that its mouth was bound by a strong vine found growing on rock faces in the vicinity. The paws were also bound. Proto-dragons as a species did not use tools of any sort; they had hardly been sentient long enough to develop such interests and in general did not even need them. However, Ysera had adapted quite well to finding a use for what Malygos would have considered food for some grazer.
As his eyes became better attuned to the fainter light, Malygos saw that this animated corpse had once had a hide the same brilliant color as that of Alexstrasza.
Clutch brother.
Before he could state what appeared obvious, Alexstrasza leaned near. “It is not him. We knew this one, but it is not our clutch brother.”
Ysera had already lost interest in Malygos, her focus on the undead. She guided the fiend back, all the while murmuring to it.
“Found her with one like this before,” Alexstrasza admitted. “Another of our family. She cannot find our clutch brother and so helps other family.”
Malygos had not given much thought to Ysera’s earlier obsession but now suspected that if she had not been able to find the remains, they had likely been dragged off by any number of scavengers or moved by the weather. It was still possible that he was now one of the not-living, but Kalec’s host very much doubted it.
All of that, of course, did not explain what Malygos saw here or how it happened to be so very near the site of Talonixa’s disastrous defeat.
Galakrond’s roar erupted once more. This time, though, it sounded farther away.
“The smell,” Alexstrasza explained. “The smell of the not-living smothers ours. Galakrond only smells death nearby.”
That, at least, answered one vital question for Malygos and Kalec. “But that is not why not-living is here.”
“No . . . I had a little hand in that,” another voice said.
Alexstrasza did not appear startled that there was a fifth figure in the cave, a fact made even more interesting by the speaker being none other than Tyr.
Something that did not surprise Malygos when he looked upon the cloaked and hooded form was that Tyr was now several feet taller than before and much wider. Even then, Malygos—and Kalec—could not help feeling that Tyr only wore this size because it was convenient for the moment. He still radiated a presence far greater than his current height indicated.
This is only a slight reflection of him, Kalec vaguely recalled. He struggled to remember more, but his own time had become fragments of scenes that were harder and harder to think of as fact. Jaina’s face was the strongest bond remaining, and on occasion, even she briefly faded from his mind.
He was interrupted in his attempt to strengthen his few memories by the undead’s muffled hiss. The animated corpse tried to move forward again, but Ysera blocked its path. She continued to speak quietly to the creature as if it were actually her missing clutch brother.
“She must give this up,” Malygos finally muttered.
“It helped draw her and, thus, her sister here,” Tyr remarked. “In that, her desire to save her missing sibling has merit. I had a different intention when I drew this creature to this cave early on, but fate appeared to have another purpose.”
“Saw it when we fled from Galakrond,” Alexstrasza added. “Ysera wanted to return to Galakrond. Wanted to try again to speak peace.” She peered at her sister and the undead. “Told her I saw our clutch brother. She believed. We followed to here.”
Tyr grunted. “It was a variation of my plan.” He did not bother to tell them what that variation was, even though the proto-dragons cocked their heads in confusion. “It saved your lives. Now we only have to figure out how to save the world.”
“Neltharion and Nozdormu . . .” Malygos muttered. “They are not saved.”
Alexstrasza’s eyes widened. In all the excitement concerning her sister, she had forgotten about the other two males. “Galakrond! Are they—”
“I do not know. We flew to the clouds. Split up. Saw nothing. Heard nothing.”
The urge to return to the outside and head off in search of the missing pair grew strong enough that Malygos took a step toward the entrance.
“Wait.” Tyr passed by both proto-dragons. He stepped up to the entrance but did not proceed. For a moment, the two-legged creature stared out into the open.
Alexstrasza used the delay to tell Malygos, “He came from nowhere. Said he knew you. Offered help.” She shook her head. “I believed all. Did not question Tyr.”
While Malygos was glad to hear that he would not have to explain or defend Tyr, that subject did not concern him so much at the moment. Instead, he could not help still being bothered by Ysera and her horrific charge. Alexstrasza’s sister went on speaking softly to the corpse.
“Tyr says let this be,” the fire-orange female muttered. “How long, not said.”
“Not good. Cannot stay here.”
They were interrupted by the return of Tyr. “Galakrond is still in the region, but he is taking a path to the southwest. If he keeps that direction, he’ll soon be far enough away that you can go in search of your comrades.”
Malygos snorted. “Will find them. What about her?”
Tyr followed his gaze to Ysera. “There is a facet to her that must be encouraged, must be explored. I feel that this is significant, if not for now, then for the future.”
“Hmmph!” The future was a concept only recently appreciated by Malygos and other proto-dragons, having once been creatures who had purely existed for the moment at hand. Now that concept seemed a very fragile one. “Galakrond may be the future.”
His remark did not appear to strike Tyr as dramatically as the proto-dragon thought. Instead of solemnly nodding, Tyr smiled slightly. “I think I’ve finally chosen well.”
The comment both mystified and infuriated Kalec’s host. “Riddles! Wingless Tyr talks riddles! Proto-dragons dying!”
“And no one knows that better than I,” the two-legged being answered, much too calmly for Malygos’s taste. “No one feels more responsible than I. I should have watched. I knew the others were beyond caring. I should have watched . . . but even I grew distracted.”
The animated corpse chose that moment to begin a new tirade. Why it had been stirred up was quickly apparent. Ysera had dared to undo the mouth. What she hoped to accomplish, neither Malygos nor Kalec could guess, but what she almost earned for her decision was a bite across her throat. Only her quick reflexes kept Ysera from a mortal wound.
A red rage overtook Malygos. He shoved past Ysera and attacked the undead. With its paws still bound, its remaining defenses were its slavering jaws and its horrific mist. Malygos shifted to the monster’s right. The undead, unable to turn well, could not bring its head around far enough to reach him.
Malygos ripped into the dry neck, easily tearing through the rotting flesh and cracking bone. It was enough to cause the neck to collapse, taking the head with it.
With blackened blood slowly dripping from the savage wound, the torso continued to twitch. Still caught up in his fury, Malygos ripped open the chest. That appeared to be sufficient. The body quieted, then slumped.
Kalec’s mind also swirled with rage, although to a lesser degree. He fought against the desire for blood and flesh, even as a voice tried to reach through the haze that Malygos’s thoughts had become.
The icy-blue male turned on Ysera. She met Malygos’s gaze squarely and began talking to him in a tone like the one she had used with the corpse. Malygos at first sneered, only interested in her life. He smelled its freshness, and his hunger grew. Kalec understood that his host had fallen prey to the bite from the earlier undead and doubted that Malygos would be able to shake himself out of it this time. Worse, Malygos towered over Ysera, who made no move to flee.
Then a quiet voice p
enetrated Malygos’s thoughts. Like something out of a dream, it gently touched some remnant of sanity left in Kalec’s host and urged it forward. Kalec felt Malygos’s hunger begin to subside. His reason started to take dominance again.
We are your friends, Malygos. . . .
At first, Kalec believed the voice belonged to Tyr, for not only did it have an otherworldly quality to it, but who else would have the ability to draw reason back from madness? However, as the voice repeated itself, he caught its feminine facets.
It was Ysera’s voice. With the subsiding of the blood rage, Malygos’s vision cleared. Now both Kalec and his host could make out that Ysera was speaking. While that certainly made sense, it had been impossible for even Kalec to identify her under such circumstances.
“You do not want to do this. You are one who fights for us, not against us.”
Listening through Malygos, Kalec noticed how much more succinctly Ysera spoke. She was more intelligent—if also more impulsive—than other proto-dragons. Kalec wondered if her small size and inability to fight as well as many normal proto-dragons had contributed to her need to hone her intellect even more than most of her kind.
Malygos finally nodded. “I am well.”
But for the first time, Tyr was disturbed. Barging past Ysera, the two-legged being angrily peered at Malygos. “You’ve been bitten. The hunger is within you.”
Alexstrasza joined her sister. The elder female appeared almost as dismayed as Tyr. Ysera, on the other hand, looked very interested and, at the same time, disappointed.
“Could have saved them,” Ysera muttered. “Did not have to die in that cave. . . .”
Both Malygos and Kalec recalled the infected proto-dragons buried alive by Talonixa. Kalec doubted that those poor creatures, so much farther gone than even Malygos, could have been turned back to sanity, as his host had been. Still, he felt Malygos’s guilt grow at the thought that perhaps somehow he could have helped Ysera in that regard.
Tyr ignored Ysera, his attention fully on studying Malygos for any sign of the hunger returning. “I’ve seen others. None fought it down. How long has it been since you were bitten?”
World of Warcraft: Dawn of the Aspects: Part IV Page 3
