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A Nerubian's Journey

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Fizzicks said:
Your father could have offered us everything we ever wanted, and we wouldn't have accepted it unless we paid for it in blood and tears.
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Well, orc, you condemn yourself by your own words. By your own admission, calling you by your race is an insult, since you claim that being an orc necessarily requires violence and pillaging. You claim that the world is "doing everything it can to destroy you" and yet you also acknowledge that if the world instead extended a hand of friendship, you would bite it off.

I wouldn't join the crowd in cheering, because there is nothing pleasant or happy about knowing that a thinking creature can be so self-defeating, but I would be relieved to see the end of him.
 
That was a great conversation between Varian & Ogrim, as well as between Kivax and Krasus. The first pair got some closure, the second may have the beginnings of a friendship. Or at least a mentor/student bond. Regardless, I doubt Krasus will consider a few beginner magic exercises a fair trade for what Krivax did, so I expect to see more interactions between the two as the story progresses.

Fizzicks said:
standing slightly taller than any other Vizier he had seen.
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You just couldn't help yourself, could you? The meme lives on. Truly, all mortal champions are three feet taller than the rest of their species. LoL.
 
nice chapter thx for writing it
fun seeing the thought of ogrim and seeing him write that letter wonder when it will find its way to thrall perhaps covert in abit of sand
 
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Chapter 59
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    • When Krivax decided to inspect the orcish internment camps to see how the Horde prisoners were being treated, he'd expected it to be an unpleasant experience. Things weren't quite as bad as he'd thought, but they certainly weren't good.

    "Are the camps normally this chaotic?" asked Krivax as he watched the orcish internment camp from a tower overlooking the complex.

    "It was far worse when we first started. The orcs have already calmed down significantly since the war ended, though there's quite a long way to go, " said Turalyon, former student of Archbishop Faol and current paladin of the Knights of the Silver Hand.

    He also happened to be one of the men overseeing the Church of Holy Light's efforts in the many orc internment camps. The actual Overseer of this camp was conveniently away on business, so Turalyon had offered to show him around in their stead. Krivax noticed that the paladin was quite curious about the changes to his appearance, but was thankfully far too polite to say anything out loud.

    "This is calm?!" Krivax exclaimed incredulously.

    Orc men, women, and children were being corralled by armed guards to the center of the camp where a priest was handing out rations.

    The orcs were more than a little hostile to their captors. Some of them snarled and bared their teeth, while others spat curses in their native tongue. Krivax even saw several of them make aggressive moves against the guards until they were forced back into line by spearpoint.

    Turalyon sighed, his expression grim. "Unfortunately, yes. The prisoners were far more aggressive in the immediate aftermath of the war. It was even common for the captured orcs to throw themselves onto the spears of the guards rather than face the dishonor of captivity. Most of the ones who wished to die have already done so by now, so the situation has stabilized somewhat."

    "That's… horrible," Krivax muttered as he watched an orc child cling to its mother and glare hatefully at the guards. "How is the food situation in the Eastern Kingdoms? Are you able to properly sustain their rations? I've only just been able to return from Azjol-Nerub and I was a bit too… busy to keep a close eye on the situation here."

    That was a big understatement as far as Krivax was concerned. The Queens were extremely optimistic about what they would be able to do with what they've learned from studying him so far. He'd even heard one of them mention that they might be able to design an entirely new caste, which was no small feat.

    The Queens had run test after test on his new abilities and taken every biological sample they could reasonably acquire from his body. Unfortunately, it turned out that what they could reasonably acquire was far more than he had expected given their access to magic…

    Krivax shuddered and forced his mind back to the present.

    "The food situation is quite dire, but we should be able to sustain our current rate of consumption," said Turalyon with a furrowed brow. "Much of our farmland is destroyed or damaged, but the rest is nearly in a state of permanent harvest thanks to the Red Dragonflight. The Alliance has also dictated that the orcs only be fed the minimum necessary to sustain them, which is much less than expected. I don't like it, but there will be a chance to make a change once the situation improves."

    Krivax wasn't quite sure how to feel about that, but he understood why the Alliance had made such a decision.

    Stretching his new senses over the camp, Krivax could distinctly feel the many thousands of lives around him as warm flames, and he was struck by how similar the different races felt to him. The only exception was the Drakonid and Dragonspawn guards sent by the Red Dragonflight to help guard the camps. The Drakonid and Dragonspawn were draconic races that served the Dragonflights and resembled tall humanoid dragons and large centaur-shaped dragons respectively. Krivax could feel a strange hint of familiarity within them that reminded him of his new wellspring of power.

    "I can see that most of the guards here are being provided by Azjol-Nerub and the Red Dragonflight. Are they to your satisfaction, Sir Turalyon?" Krivax asked as he observed the draconic and nerubian guards throughout the camp. "I understand that many nations aren't particularly enthusiastic about spending resources or manpower on these camps. I hope our warriors have proven themselves up to the task."

    Turalyon nodded, his eyes softening somewhat. "Yes, the warriors sent by Azjol-Nerub and the Red Dragonflight have been invaluable. Their discipline and adherence to given orders have been commendable, and they've done a lot to keep the camp relatively stable. Circumstances would be much worse without their assistance."

    Krivax felt relief at the paladin's words, although he wasn't very surprised. If there was one thing that generally nerubians did well, it was taking orders. The Drakonids and Dragonspawns were raised from the egg to be servants, so they were similarly devoted to their duties. There would be little risk of them growing lax or abusing the prisoners under their watch.

    "I'm glad to hear that," Krivax said genuinely. "Things could certainly be better around here, but they could also be much worse. I'll be sure to inform the High King that the camps are in good hands."

    That was a lie. High King Anub'arak didn't care about the orcs enough to receive status updates about them, but it felt like the polite thing to say.

    "I'm glad to hear that Vizier Krivax," Turalyon replied with a hint of gratitude in his voice. "The Church of the Holy Light has been doing its best to ensure the safety of the prisoners while also bringing them to the Light, but I admit it has been… difficult. Azjol-Nerub's support has been indispensable."

    Both the missionaries sent by the Church as well as the shamans sent by the Wildhammer weren't having much success with converting the orcs, mostly due to their continued hostility. Krivax hoped that would change once the Fel magic began to leave their system and their lethargy began to kick in, making them more docile and open to new ideas.

    Deciding that he'd seen enough of the camps, Krivax addressed his primary reason for traveling to the Hillsbrad Foothills. "Thank you for showing me around, SIr Turalyon, but there is another matter that I could use your help with."

    Turalyon looked up at him with a curious expression. "Oh? If it's within my power, then I will do my best to be of assistance."

    "I see no reason why it wouldn't be. There is a noble by the name of Aedas Blackmoore, the current lord of Durnholde Keep, who I intend to confront. I've recently received word from an anonymous informant that he has committed a crime," Krivax explained.

    Aedelas Blackmoore was the current slaveowner of a young orc called Thrall, birth name Go'el, who would grow up to be an immensely important figure in Azeroth's history. Thrall had the potential to become the most powerful shaman in the world as well as the future Warchief of the orcs and New Horde, and Krivax had no intention of allowing him to stay where he currently was.

    "The information is specific enough that I feel compelled to check, but I doubt Queen Regent Menethil would move against one of her nobles without hard evidence," Krivax continued. Obviously, there wasn't any evidence at all as he couldn't exactly cite the words of the goblins he'd hired to sneak into Durnholde Keep. "I would like you to come with me as a witness, as well as to keep the peace. As long as I get close enough, I should be able to verify if there is any credence to what I've been told."

    His new ability to sense Life should be enough to lead him to Thrall once he got to Durnholde Keep. Orcs and humans felt very similar, but not enough to be indistinguishable.

    Turalyon considered Krivax's request for a moment before asking the obvious question. "What exactly were you told about Lord Blackmoore? I've heard certain rumors about the man, but he performed well during the war and made quite a name for himself. He has also apparently become a mentor figure to the Prince of Alterac and the close friend of one of the paladins of my order."

    "It's admittedly a rather minor matter, but I've been told that Lord Blackmoore found an orcish infant during the First War and decided to raise him as a slave and train him in combat," said Krivax. Although the enslavement of Thrall was fully legal in the original timeline, Queen Regent Menethil and other Alliance leaders hadn't yet allowed such a thing within Lordaeron. The former members of the Horde were still only prisoners of war at this time, not slaves.

    Slavery was generally banned within the Eastern Kingdoms as slavery was considered to be morally repugnant by the Church, but the hatred for the orcs was starting to grow stronger than religious piety. Krivax had already heard whispers that a few different nations were considering proposals to change that to make use of the orcs as unpaid laborers to rebuild what they had destroyed, which was why it was important he acted before that could happen.

    "You can see why I have come to you. There are very few people who would consider offending a powerful noble for an orcish child, but I've heard that you are a man of principle and compassion," Krivax continued, hoping to appeal to Turalyon's sense of justice.

    It was difficult to overstate how much hatred there was toward the orcs. The average human would rather kill an orc themself than rescue it from enslavement, but Krivax remembered Turalyon to be one of the most compassionate and soft-hearted of the paladins.

    Sure enough, Turalyon's eyes narrowed as a mixture of concern and anger flickered across his face. "If what you say is true, then I can understand your worry. The orcs have been led astray by dark magic, but we are all children of the Light. I will accompany you to Durnholde Keep and we will investigate if there is any truth to this matter."

    Krivax felt a wave of relief wash over him at the paladin's easy agreement. Thrall was the last urgent matter related to the future of Azeroth that he needed to deal with for quite a while. After this was done, Krivax would finally have some time to himself when he didn't need to be scheming or desperately trying to change the course of history.

    He had been terrified out of his mind at first when he realized that Nozdormu knew about his metaknowledge, but he couldn't deny that a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

    Of course, Krivax still had plans on improving the situation in Azeroth as the head diplomat of Azjol-Nerub, but the most important points in his plan wouldn't happen until he was sent to Kalimdor. The High King estimated that they wouldn't be ready for that for another year, which would give Krivax plenty of time to relax as much as someone in his position could and grow accustomed to his new power. He also hoped to spend some time catching up with Masruk and maybe visiting the Tuskarr villages.

    Krivax could already imagine himself lying lazily in a silk hammock, eating a plate full of shrimp, and reading a book on golem crafting.

    "Really? Then let's go now!" Krivax said with perhaps a touch too much enthusiasm.

    Turalyon raised an eyebrow at Krivax's eagerness but didn't comment on it. Instead, he nodded and said, "Very well, Vizier Krivax. Let us depart for Durnholde Keep."

    Krivax gathered his guards and informed them of their new destination. Durnholde Keep wasn't very far from the internment camp they were currently in, so the journey wouldn't be a long one. As Krivax made his way to rescue Azeroth's destined Chosen One with a righteous paladin by his side, he couldn't help but fantasize about an easy future filled with magical experimentation and handling minor diplomatic issues.

    He knew deep in his heart that his fantasies were unrealistic as the Burning Legion and Old Gods would inevitably react to the changes he had made, but a nerubian could hope, right?






    Malygos watched in anticipation as Archaedas and a few of Uldum's guardians worked to configure the device that would soon open a portal to the Elemental Domain of Earth, Deepholm.

    Piercing the defenses hiding Uldum from the rest of Azeroth was not easy, but Archaedas was intimately familiar with the facility's concealment magic and Malygos was the greatest mage in Azeroth, regardless of what Nozdormu might say about Azshara. Their success was inevitable, especially after the strange little prophet had told them exactly where they needed to search on Kalimdor.

    Once there, it had been a relatively simple matter to handle Uldum's inhabitants so they could begin working on a path to Deepholm.

    The Curse of Flesh had affected the constructs assigned to the facility's maintenance and security, turning them into mortals that possessed feline lower bodies and heads as well as an elven torso. The so-called 'tol'vir' had devolved into many competing tribes that built several cities in the desert around Uldum. They were all still fanatically loyal to the Titans and quickly acknowledged the Keeper's authority once his identity was verified… for the most part.

    A few petty tol'vir rulers claimed that Archaedas was a fraud in a blatant attempt to hold onto their authority, but that hadn't been much of an issue. There was no mortal force of Azeroth that could deny the wishes of four Aspects and a Keeper when they were all working toward the same goal.

    The device, an enormous circular gate, had once served as a pathway for the Keepers and their forces to access the Elemental Plane if they ever so needed. The veil separating Azeroth from the Elemental Plane was particularly weak in Uldum, which was why the Keepers chose to build the device there. Predictably, a foolish mortal tol'vir by the name of Irmaat had attempted to exploit this phenomenon to harness forces beyond his ability to control. As a result, one of the tol'vir cities had been destroyed for his hubris and Uldum had become closely aligned to the Elemental Domain of Wind, Skywall.

    Unless Malygos and his siblings wanted to fight through an army of air elementals on their way to Neltharion, they would have to wait for Archaedas to finish recalibrating the device to Deepholm.

    "I can't believe we're so close to finally putting an end to this nightmare," said Alexstrasza, her voice tinged with sadness despite the resolve Malygos could see in her eyes.

    There wasn't a single one among them who wasn't eager to put an end to Neltharion, especially after hearing in detail what he would have done to Azeroth without the little prophet's intervention.

    "This isn't how I expected it would happen," Ysera said solemnly. "I had envisioned that our brother's fate would be decided at the end of a grand battle, but this feels much more like an execution."

    Without the intervention of a third party, the outcome of this endeavor was already decided. Even if Neltharion wasn't already seriously wounded from their last encounter, there was little chance he would be able to win a fight against the five of them.

    "Fate often takes unexpected paths," Nozdormu remarked, his gaze drifting as he looked at something none of them could see. "There are times when even the mightiest beings meet their end with barely a whisper."

    "So long as the traitor meets his end, I don't care how it happens," Malygos said firmly. While his siblings were very concerned about Azeroth's dismal future, he found it difficult to care about anything other than Neltharion's death.

    Malygos wished that he could draw out the vermin's suffering, but prior experience was an effective teacher. He had every intention of putting an end to this as quickly as possible.

    Alexstrasza glanced at him with a worried expression but was wise enough not to say anything. Instead, she merely sighed and turned her attention back to the gate. "I truly wish it hadn't come to this."

    A part of Malygos wanted to scoff, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Before… everything, he was closer to Neltharion than to any of his other siblings. Ysera and Nozdormu were both too consumed by their own duties while Alexstrasza's outlook on the world was just too different from his own. There had been a time when Malygos had considered Neltharion to be his best friend, and he was quite sure the feeling was mutual.

    Malygos could still remember when Neltharion had come to him for help when he started to lose control of his little experiments…

    Despite this, their bond had not been enough to prevent Neltharion from taking everything away from him and leaving Malygos a hollow husk of the dragon he once was. Feeling his mind begin to spiral as it always did when he thought of the past, Malygos forcefully pushed the memories away and focused instead on the present. His vengeance was finally at hand and he wouldn't allow it to slip away for a second time.

    After nearly an hour of waiting, Archaedasr finally managed to recalibrate the gate, and the portal to Deepholm sprang to life in a burst of shimmering energy. Malygos could already feel the dense elemental energy emanating from the portal.

    "It is done," Archaedas announced, his stone features as unchanging as ever. "Our route to the fallen Aspect is open. We must not delay, or else we risk allowing Therazane the Stonemother a path to Azeroth."

    The Elemental Lords were sealed away for good reason, and nothing good would come from their escape. Ragnaros, the Lord of Fire, had successfully done so and that was already trouble enough for all of them. The little prophet claimed that Therazane and Neptulon the Tidehunter were less hostile than Ragnaros and Al'akir the Windlord, but it would be wise to avoid unnecessary risks.

    "Then let us go," said Alexstrasza as she walked toward the portal. "This has gone on for long enough."

    After Malygos finished casting his most powerful concealment spells over the group, the Aspects stepped through the portal one after another with the Keeper following close behind.

    In his long life, Malygos had seen Deepholm a few times for primarily research purposes, but he'd seldom had the opportunity to actually visit the Elemental Plane in person.The difficulty of penetrating the barrier and the risk of attracting an Elemental Lord's attention simply made it not worth the risk. Malygos spent a moment taking in his new surroundings. It was rare for someone such as him to have new experiences, after all.

    Almost immediately, Malygos found his attention drawn to the massive structure in the center of Deepholm. It reminded him somewhat of Wrymrest Temple and had obviously been built by the Keepers when they created the Elemental Plane. It was likely that Archaedas himself had been heavily involved in the project. The Temple of Earth had served to hold and protect an artifact called the World Pillar, which separated the Elemental Plane from the rest of Azeroth.

    If Neltharion was to destroy the World Pillar as the little prophet claimed he would, the consequences would be catastrophic.

    Pulling his gaze away from the temple, Malygos turned his attention to the rest of Deepholm. It took on the appearance of a gigantic underground cavern with stone pillars jutting out from the ceiling and floor. Boulders could be seen floating through the air and elemental creatures of all shapes and sizes moved about, oblivious to the powerful beings that had just entered their realm. Malygos could even see a few dragons made of stone flying in the distance. It felt strange to see nonsapient elementals that looked so similar to his own people, especially when the origins of these dragon-shaped elementals were unclear.

    Although thinking about everything he knew about Neltharion, it was likely that the stone dragons were another one of his discarded experiments.

    Glowing crystals illuminated the cavernous expanse, casting eerie, dancing shadows across the craggy walls. The air was heavy with the scent of earth, and the distant rumble of shifting stone echoed throughout Deepholm.

    "We should find Neltharion and leave this place as quickly as possible," said Ysera, her expression distinctly uncomfortable. "There is barely any plant life here at all, and I find it difficult to feel the Emerald Dream. It's… unsettling."

    "It is a strange place to be sure. Elementals always feel different to my senses than most other beings," said Alexstrasza as she curiously took in her surroundings.

    "I can sense the fallen Aspect to the east," said Archaedas, his eyes narrowing with distaste as he gestured in the direction he needed to go. "Your descriptions of Neltharion's corruption were not exaggerated. His very presence befouls the gift bestowed upon him by the Makers."

    Malygos scoffed but didn't give voice to the derision he felt toward the Keeper. The Titans had truly done well when they instilled blind loyalty into their construct.

    With Archaedas leading the way, the group began making their way through Deepholm while carefully avoiding the native elementals. Malygos' magic and Archaedas' natural connection to the earth would be enough to veil them from notice for some time, but it wouldn't last forever. They continued onward, moving at a brisk pace and keeping their senses sharp for any sign of danger.

    Before long, Archaedas informed them that they were approaching Neltharion's location and Malygos began to feel the increasing presence of the Void. A few more minutes of travel saw the five of them standing on a ridge overlooking a large lava-filled ravine. The ravine itself had signs of being artificially created and was unnaturally dark when compared to the rest of Deepholm.

    However, Malygos barely paid any attention to the nature of the ravine when he spotted his corrupted brother. Neltharion obviously wasn't expecting anyone to follow him to Deepholm and was currently resting in a pool of lava without a care in the world. Malygos felt a rush of anger at the sight.

    How dare he be so at ease after everything that he's done!

    "Good. Neltharion seems to be unaware of our presence," Alexstrasza whispered, despite the fact that Malygos' magic prevented any sound from passing beyond their group. "This is the perfect opportunity for us to strike and end this without a prolonged conflict. If everyone remembers their roles, I propose we begin immediately."

    Everyone quickly came to an agreement and prepared themselves for battle. Once they were ready, the Aspects shed their mortal forms and went on the attack. Malygos immediately teleported into the air above Neltharion before he began preparing the spell that would end his brother's life.

    Neltharion instantly sensed the buildup of arcane magic and his eyes flew open. Malygos could see the intense shock in his brother's eyes as he realized what was happening and who was attacking him.

    Before Neltharion could react, Ysera summoned a flurry of thorny vines that dug into his wounds and ensnared his limbs. Alexstrasza launched herself from the edge of the ravine and slammed into Neltharion's trapped form. The Dragon Queen's attacks lacked their usual mercy and she quickly grasped one of Neltharion's wings between her powerful jaws and began pulling with her full strength.

    Malygos savored the sound of tearing flesh and the screams of agonizing pain that soon followed.

    Neltharion exploded in dark flames that burned away Ysera's vines and tried to skewer Alexstrasza with giant spikes of stone, but Archaedas contested his control over the earth and prevented him from doing so.

    It's ready…

    Several hundred arcane glyphs suddenly appeared in the middle of the air as Malygos finished his spell, surrounding Neltharion from every direction. Beams of pure arcane energy lanced out from each glyph, converging toward the fallen Aspect with enough force to annihilate anything they touched.

    Alexstrasza, who was tearing into Neltharion and pinning him in place, suddenly disappeared moments before the attack struck as Nozdormu pulled her back through time onto the ridge.

    Neltharion, unable to escape, roared in pain and desperation as the beams struck him, his scales cracking and shattering under the onslaught. His dark, corrupted blood spilled into the lava below, turning the molten rock an unnatural shade of black. The power behind Malygos' spell was so immense that space itself seemed to distort and ripple from the intensity of the arcane magic unleashed.

    A being as powerful as Neltharion would normally be able to shrug off such an attack… if he wasn't already so heavily injured.

    The other Aspects as well as Archaedas joined in on the assault, with Alexstrasza bathing Neltharion in Life-infused flames that seared through his corrupted flesh and Ysera sending her most potent nightmares to torment his mind. Nozdormu unleashed torrents of sand that ground away at Neltharion's scales, hastening the passage of time around his wounds and forcing the corrupted Aspect to experience years, decades, and then centuries without rest. Archaedas summoned immense stone fists that slammed into Neltharion and further pinned him down.

    Neltharion's roars of agony filled Deepholm, echoing through the cavernous expanse. However, even as his body was ravaged and his strength sapped, the fallen Aspect refused to yield. Desperation fueled his actions, and he lashed out with vicious blasts of Void and fire, seeking to break free from the relentless onslaught.

    It was all useless as the combined efforts of the Aspects and the Keeper proved too much for the weakened Neltharion to overcome. With each passing moment, his resistance waned, and his once-might form was battered and torn apart. His roars of pain began to fade, replaced by the sound of labored breath and pitiful whimpers.

    Malygos could see the exact moment that Neltharion realized that he was going to die. The fallen Aspect's eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and terror, and he locked gazes with Malygos.

    Realizing that Neltharion intended to speak, he cast a spell that would allow him to hear his brother's dying words over the cacophony of their combined attacks. The gesture was not born out of compassion, but of a desire to savor every last moment of his enemy's suffering.

    "Do… you… think this… will change… anything?" Neltharion wheezed, blood frothing at the corners of his mouth. "Azeroth… is doomed… you… will fall… to madness… next… brother."

    Malygos felt a hint of unease as he recalled the words of the little prophet. However, he pushed aside those thoughts and focused on the task at hand. Vengeance.

    With a final surge of power, Malygos channeled every drop of his magical might into ridding the world of Neltharion, pouring his hatred and despair into the spell. It took only a moment before the arcane energy pierced through the fallen Aspect's body and tore a hole through his heart. The once mighty Earthwarder let out a last, feeble cry before his body finally succumbed to the assault, and the darkness within seemed to explode outwards as if acknowledging its host's demise.

    Neltharion's massive form slumped, lifeless and broken, into the lava-filled ravine. The Aspects and Keeper ceased their attacks, staring down at the corpse of a being that had once been one of Azeroth's greatest champions.

    "It is done," said Alexstrasza, her voice heavy with grief and exhaustion. "Neltharion is no more."

    It's… really over?

    Malygos studied the corpse of his brother with every diagnostic spell he knew, ensuring that there was truly no possibility Neltharion would recover. As each spell reached the same conclusion, Malygos could feel an overwhelming sense of… emptiness beginning to fill him. Oh, there was intense satisfaction and relief as well, but it felt as if his mind simply didn't know how to react after achieving the vengeance he had been seeking for over ten millennia.

    "Indeed he is," Archaedas said as he approached the corpse, easily wading into the lava without harm. "And with the corrupted Aspect dead, the gift of the Makers can be reclaimed."

    The Keeper summoned a device that he claimed would be able to extract and store the essence of the Earthwarder from Neltharion's corpse. Without it, they would need to perform a complicated ritual during a rare celestial event to transfer Neltharion's power to a new host. Not to mention the risk of the vermin's children finding a way to absorb their father's power and continuing his dark legacy.

    The device itself was a plain gold sphere that reminded Malygos too much of the Dragon Soul.

    "We will have to be careful when we choose Neltharion's successor," Ysera said, watching as the sphere began to fill with a shimmering earth-toned energy. "Azeroth cannot afford another tragedy like this one."

    The Aspects had already discussed the matter at length after their meeting with the little prophet. The Void's hold over the Black Dragonflight would be significantly weakened with Neltharion's death, but not entirely eradicated. Archaedas knew of a method to forcibly purge an individual of the Void, but the process would essentially completely recreate them, body and soul.

    There was little difference between that and death, as far as Malygos was concerned.

    The nerubian had mentioned something about an uncorrupted black dragon living on the Broken Isles, but the Aspects had yet to meet them. Whoever they chose would need to possess a strong enough will to fight off the whispers of the Old Gods. It wouldn't be optimal if the Aspects were unable to pass down Neltharion's power given the future threats Azeroth would face, but it would be preferable to history repeating itself.

    "The process is complete," Archaedas announced as he began making his way back to the group. "I suggest we leave, as I can sense Therazane gathering her subordinates in preparation to confront us."

    The Aspects quickly agreed and decided to leave Deepholm. Malygos gathered Neltharion's corpse and Archaedas in his telekinetic grasp and took to the air behind his siblings. As they soared through the cavernous expanse toward the portal that would return them to Azeroth, Malygos caught a glimmer of worry in Alexstrasza's eyes.

    "Malygos," she said, her voice empathetic and infuriatingly soft. "How are you feeling? You suffered the most out of any of us after Neltharion's betrayal."

    Malygos would normally just glare at his sister and give a caustic reply, but he couldn't seem to muster his normal anger. "I'm not sure how I feel, Alexstrasza. I suggest you ask again in a few years."

    Alexstrasza seemed relieved to have received an actual answer. "I understand how you feel. It almost doesn't feel real. But we will have time to heal from the wounds Neltharion has left behind. Just remember that we are here for you, brother. Even if it might not feel like it, we are a family."

    Malygos managed a small nod, though he wasn't entirely sure he believed her words. It felt as though a yawning emptiness had opened up inside of him once his vengeance was satiated, and he didn't know if that void could ever be filled again.

    "And regardless of anything else, we cannot forget that today is a good day for Azeroth and its future," Alexstrasza continued, her tone taking on a hopeful note. "We have rid the world of a great evil, reclaimed the power of the Earthwarder, and proven we fight together as we once did. Together, I'm certain we'll be able to solve the various crises that Vizier Krivax brought to our attention."

    Malygos was normally disdainful towards Alexstrasza's unwarranted optimism, but he was surprised when he felt a hint of fond amusement. "I wouldn't be so certain. You should know by now that fate has never been kind to us, sister. I doubt that's going to change any time soon."

    "It does you no good to be so cynical. Vizier Krivax has given us ample warnings and I trust in our ability to navigate the future with such a significant advantage."

    "One look at Nozdormu is enough to know that the future won't be pleasant," said Malygos, gesturing toward their silent brother. Nozdormu was good at pretending to be inscrutable, but the Aspects had known each other for longer than most mortal races had existed.

    He was always either silent or inappropriately flippant when there was trouble in the near future. Alexstrasza turned a questioning expression to Nozdormu, who surprised them all when he actually provided a response.

    "I'm afraid Malygos is correct. Vizier Krivax has made many changes to the timeline that will alter some things for the better and some for the worse. We've mostly experienced the better up to this point, but the worse is yet to come," said Nozdormu, somber as he delivered his ominous warning.

    "We have weathered dark times before and we will do so again," Ysera said with a voice that was soft but confident.

    Nozdormu nodded solemnly, his gaze distant as he once again turned his attention to something beyond their current moment. "Indeed we shall. But for now, let us return to Azeroth and ensure that Neltharion's passing is known."

    Malygos was certain there would soon be plenty of celebrations by the many people hurt by Neltharion's actions, but he couldn't see himself being one of them. As the Aspects and the Keeper made their way back to Azeroth, Malygos found himself wondering what he would do next. He had lived with his hatred for so long that he hardly knew who he was without it.

    But… perhaps he would have the opportunity to understand who he was in due time.



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  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 59.5
  • Threadmarks
    • "What is this?" Alexstrasza asked as Archaedas handed her a large metal enchanted disc.

    The Aspects were currently gathered within Wyrmrest Temple in the Chamber of the Aspects, the Keeper having teleported in after informing them that he had something important to give them.

    "Tyr passed this on to me before his death. He brought it with us along with the Discs of Norgannon when we fled south for Uldaman and I have been keeping it in a separate section of the facility for safekeeping," Archaedas explained in a gravelly voice. "He requested that in the event of his death, I should pass this on to the Aspects, but could not explain why before he expired. I have determined that it is of similar function to the other discs, but this one is magically encrypted so that only you may access it."

    "What could he possibly have wanted to tell us?" Malygos asked curiously. "This would have been recorded well before the Sundering or the Burning Legion's first invasion."

    "Nozdormu?" Ysera asked her brother.

    "I… don't know," Nozdormu said with a hint of surprise.

    That made all present look at him in shock.

    "You don't know. That's never a good sign," Malgyos muttered, as he examined the disk with significantly more caution.

    "How could you not know, Nozdormu?" Alexstrasza asked in worry.

    "It's not so much warded from my sight… but more like someone is actively interfering with my ability to perceive it," The Aspect of Time explained. "I assume that this is due to the actions of my Flight's worse half. Whenever something unexpected occurs, they are usually to blame."

    "Then it must be important if they are hiding it from you," said Ysera, her tone thoughtful. "But I fail to see the point if we can access it now."

    "Let's find out," Nozdormu said, to which Alexstrasza nodded and turned to the disc in her hands. She channeled her magic through it and at once it responded, but not in the way any of them expected.

    "MESSAGE PLAYBACK AND DATABASE CANNOT BE ACCESSED AT THIS TIME UNTIL ALL ASPECTS ARE PRESENT," the disc played in Tyr's voice, but with none of his usual emotion.

    The dragons stared at the disc in confusion before Malygos finally roared at the disc in annoyance. "All the Aspects are present, you piece of junk!"

    "CORRECTION, FOUR OF THE FIVE ASPECTS ARE PRESENT. ALL ASPECTS MUST BE PRESENT FOR MESSAGE AND DATABASE TO BE ACCESSED. PLEASE GATHER ALL ASPECTS."

    With that the issue became clear. Tyr had created this disc when the Aspects were once five, and during a time when he likely didn't believe that any of them could so thoroughly fall from grace.

    It was a shame that they had proven unworthy of the Keeper's confidence.

    "Well… that explains it," said Nozdormu. "We can't access it now and I'm unable to see it in our future. How perplexing."

    "And Tyr trusted we'd all be together…" Ysera said sadly.

    "Unfortunate," Archaedes said simply. "But not an impossible obstacle to overcome."

    "What do you mean?" Alexstrasza asked.

    "He is likely referring to our fallen brother's power we currently have locked away," Malygos explained.

    "Indeed. While we cannot use it alone to bypass the security system, passing on Neltharion's mantle and power would most likely allow you all to access the disc," Archaede explained.

    "Of course, that requires finding a suitable black dragon to carry said mantle," Nozdormu pointed out. "And the only uncorrupted black dragon is currently in a self-imposed exile on the Broken Isles. Which means that we are at an impasse."

    "For now at least," Alexstrasza admitted before looking down at the disc once more. "But we can wait until the time is right."

    "We could always ask the nerubian if he knows," Ysera pointed out.

    "He doesn't or he would have already mentioned this artifact," Nozdormu immediately responded.

    "I suppose then, that we'll just have to wait until the time comes," Malygos grumbled impatiently. The Guardian of Magic glared at Archaedas and suddenly felt the desire to return to his lair and sleep for a decade or two. The world had gotten far too complicated ever since he'd been pulled back into Azeroth's affairs.

    "Leave the sleeping to me, brother," Ysera spoke up, seeming to read his thoughts.

    Malgyos didn't even bother responding and giving her the satisfaction.







    Drek'Thar lifted his blind eyes to the tent entrance at the sound of Palkar's shout. The young orc had gone on a long reconnaissance mission to examine the 'orc internment camps' set up by the humans in the south and had only returned recently.

    "Chieftain, I have come back with news of our people," Palkar said breathlessly.

    Drek'Thar gestured to the gathered shamans in the tent and said, "Very well, young shaman. Report on what you have seen."

    Palkar reported dutifully, "I watched the dragonmen and the giant spiderfolk guarding the camps, and the orcs within do not seem to be treated too badly. They are being fed grain and sheltered from the elements in wooden huts."

    One of the other shamans present spoke up, "That is good. We have time to prepare to release our people from captivity then. It is unfortunate that Doomhammer was executed before we were able to send young Palkar here to scout the camps."

    Palkar nervously held up a parchment and said, "I was able to bribe some goblins with some of the trinkets you gave me to sneak into the camps. One of them managed to filch Orgrim Doomhammer's final letter to his people. The goblins say that a human paladin had nailed the letter to a post in the middle of the camp."

    The circle of elders and shamans suddenly broke out in uproar at the news. Drek'Thar raised his fist and pounded it on the wooden chair for silence.

    As he motioned for Palkar to read the letter, he said, "Tell me of Orgrim Doomhammer's last words to our people. He was an orc of honor at one point and Durotan, our long-dead chieftain, trusted him."
    …

    I thought that by purging the Shadow Council of all the foul warlocks, I could redeem the Horde and gain the favor of the spirits of our land. I curse the day that I left Gul'dan alive and let the poisonous whispers of Cho'gall into my ears. Alas, I did not overthrow the shadowy demon overlords controlling the Horde. Instead, I merely replaced them with another shadowy master led by the one known as Deathwing and his ilk.

    In my captivity, many of the clan leaders cursed me and said that we lost our honor when we surrendered to the Alliance. Fools! We had lost our honor long ago when we disregarded the spirits of Draenor and our ancestors to drink the demon blood. Everything we have done since has been lacking honor. I was simply too blind and too proud of being a Doomhammer to notice our descent into that dark path.

    Did the prophecy given to my line not say, "Until the elements cry unheard, and pride turns to unbridled rage"? Indeed, I will be the last of my line to wield the great hammer of my ancestors. My only hope is that if the final portion of the prophecy which states that "a stranger will raise the hammer high, and with it justice shall reign" holds true, then our people may still be saved. I know deep in my heart that an orc will come, who will be able to redeem our people and bring honor amongst the next generation. I know that the Doomhammer will find its way back to our people from that dragon's hoard and command the orcs to glory.

    Whoever takes up the Doomhammer after me, know that you carry the weight of an entire people's hopes and dreams. Do not make the same mistakes I did. Seek the wisdom of the spirits of the land around you to lead our people to a better future. A future in which they can regain their honor and live without the shame that my generation has placed on their shoulders. The future of the orcs now lies in your hands. May you be the salvation they so desperately need.

    I hope that you who will read these chronicles of the failures will not make the same mistakes. Follow the spirits of the earth and the wind of this land and you will never be led astray. Do not be blindly tempted by easy power and rage.

    —

    The tent was silent after the letter was read out. Drek'Thar could only hear the sound of the fire crackling as the clan elders and shamans considered the Doomhammer's words. He knew what Doomhammer must have felt as he had considered all that had gone wrong for his people.

    He himself had forsaken the elements in his youth for the cursed fel magic that had corrupted his people. He still remembered those days filled with bloodlust and madness as he had participated in the battle against the draenei. Durotan had stopped him on that path and helped him to return to the spirits of his ancestors and the land. Sadly, Durotan, his mate Draka, and their son Go'el were no longer with them and the heavy weight of the clan leader had fallen on his shoulders.

    Drek'Thar ran his hands through the mane of Wise-ear, his wolf, and asked, "Is the letter modified in any way? Are those words truly the last written by Doomhammer?"

    Palkar handed the letter over to the gathered clan leaders and answered, "The words are written in orcish and there are no additions to the text."

    "This is the handwriting of Orgrim Doomhammer," confirmed Captain Galvangar.

    "Doomhammer's words fill me with sorrow. Our people were used as puppets by two different masters, because we did not heed the spirits of the land around us. Why did Doomhammer listen to Gul'dan and not purge all the remaining warlocks? It is fortunate that he found the wisdom of his ancestors before he met his end."

    Drek'Thar paused and continued, "Durotan had told us that our people had been corrupted by Gul'dan's foul pact with the demons as Go'el was born with green skin. I hope that this dragon and his evil magic have not further corrupted our people. Cho'Gall and his Twilight's Hammer clan wielded void magic anathema to the living."

    Palkar spoke up, "Seer Drek'Thar, the goblins did mention that the orcs in the encampment seemed to be sluggish and lacking energy. Could this be the result of Gul'dan and Cho'gall's actions?"

    Captain Galvangar mused, "I know that I too seemed to experience a sluggishness when I forsook the Horde and joined with the Frostwolves. I only regained my energy after listening to the spirits of the wind and used them to guide my blade."

    "Perhaps, our people can be lifted from this curse by teaching them of the shamanistic traditions of our ancestors and helping them to listen to the elements," a fellow elder stated thoughtfully.

    Drek'Thar replied, "This will make rescuing our people from the encampments more complicated. Yet, the words of Doomhammer's prophecy give me pause. Can they be truly freed if we don't find the prophesied stranger?"

    Another elder asked angrily, "How do you think we can bring our people back to the old ways of our ancestors while they are in those camps?"

    Palkar replied, "One of the camps contained a contingent of dwarves who wielded the elements of lightning and the wind. I saw some orcs sitting around while they called down lightning from the sky. Have the humans already come to the same conclusion?"

    As the debate got heated, Drek'Thar listened as the council of the Frostwolf clan discussed what should be done. Some wanted Palkar to return to the camps to scout out what was going on with the dwarves. Others wanted to start smuggling orcs from lesser-defended camps back to the Frostwolves. A small minority suggested waiting for the prophesied stranger to show themselves before taking any action.

    Drek'Thar cut through the discussion and commanded, "We must consult the spirits of the land before we make any hasty decisions. I suggest that we hold a ritual tomorrow before deciding on the course of our actions."

    The gathered shamans quickly agreed to his proposal and the meeting soon came to an end. Once they had all left and Drek'Thar was alone, the Chieftain turned his attention back to Doomhammer's letter and felt a profound sense of melancholy flow through him. It was incredibly unlikely that the Frostwolf Clan would be able to free the rest of the orcs from the camps the humans had placed them in, or that anything good would come of it if they did.

    Drek'Thar dearly hoped that Doomhammer was right about the prophecy. Otherwise, the fate of his people would almost certainly be a dark one.







    Deep within Durnholde Keep a man-sized green-skinned creature slept fretfully in his cage, something that he had grown used to for as long as he could remember. This life behind bars was the only life he knew, because he was an orc, one whose given name literally meant slave in the human tongue.

    He was known as Thrall, and he awoke to the sound of shouting not far from his cell.

    He stood up from his rough cot and walked up to the bars out of curiosity. Thrall had already finished all of his training for the day and there was little reason anyone would be making so much noise in this part of the Keep.

    He hoped that one of the guards hadn't caught Taretha smuggling letters to him through the books his master assigned him to read. Thrall pushed up against the bars and tried to make out what was happening. After a few moments, Thrall was able to pick out one of the muffled voices as his combat trainer, a man he only knew by Sergeant.

    "You can't go-mugh!" the Sergeant's voice cut off suddenly, followed by lots of muffled yelling.

    Not long afterward, Thrall heard the door to his cellblock unlock and the door open. He listened as two pairs of legs started oddly skittering toward his cell. His eyes widened when he realized it was not two people as he had assumed, but rather one person with multiple insect-like legs!

    This strange red half-spider half-humanoid creature in front of his cell could only be a 'nerubian'. He had only learned about them relatively recently, considering no one had known about them until they arrived from Northrend. This one seemed strange, as it had some lizard-like bits on it that Thrall hadn't seen in the pictures and descriptions from the books that he had to read.

    The face and the lower body reminded him a bit of the giant spiders he occasionally fought in the arena. However, there was a clear glint of intelligence in its many eyes.

    The two stood in silence as they studied one another for a moment, before the nerubian spoke up.

    "You are… much bigger than I expected," the nerubian spoke in a surprisingly almost human voice despite its appearance.

    "W-What were you expecting?" Thrall asked hesitantly, his attention drawn to the nervous twitching of the fingers on the four hands of the nerubian.

    "Well… correct me if I'm wrong, but you are roughly six to seven years old, right?" the nerubian asked.

    "Yes… I was told that it's normal for orcs to grow faster than humans," Thrall said, wondering if the nerubian wanted to size him up for an upcoming fight.

    Thrall recalled that his sudden growth spurt was something that also surprised his master, but Aedelas Blackmoore had seemed to appreciate it since it meant 'fewer years with a brat' as he had put it.

    "No worries, I can't exactly say it's weird considering that we nerubians are considered full-grown when we are four and all," the nerubian shrugged.

    Oh… well now Thrall finally understood why the humans would find his growth alarming as he looked the nerubian over.

    "Of course, you still have some growing to do and you're already bigger than most humans! That's impressive!" the nerubian chuckled awkwardly. "Oh, forgive my rudeness. My name is Vizier Krivax of Azjol-Nerub, head of the Foreign Outreach Division."

    "I am Thrall," he stated simply, for there was not much else to say.

    "Nice to meet you Thrall… though I wish it was under different circumstances and with you not behind bars," the newly introduced Krivax said.

    "It doesn't matter. They are to contain me when I am not needed," Thrall said. The cage used to be scary when he was younger, but he'd already grown used to it. "My master said that I can be dangerous without guidance."

    "Well, you could say that about anything really, it doesn't mean we lock everyone up with the potential to be dangerous," said Krivax. Thrall couldn't read the nerubian as well as he did humans, but the strange spider-person seemed uncomfortable for some reason.

    "But I'm not everyone. I'm too dangerous to be allowed to roam freely," said Thrall, dully repeating what his master and others had taught him.

    "Well, I've no doubt you are strong, but that doesn't give people the excuse to lock you up forever because of it and only let you out when they want something from you. That isn't how you treat a person, that's how you treat a pet at best," the nerubian said with venom near the end. "So instead, how would you feel about getting out of here and not coming back?"

    That question threw him into a loop because all his life he had never thought of the idea of just… leaving. It also made him extremely suspicious that this was a test by his master to see if he would attempt to escape. He dared not believe that the offer was genuine, even though it seemed a bit extreme to send such a strange creature to offer him freedom from the beatings and cruelty he suffered every day.

    And besides… this place was all he knew…

    "My master won't allow it," Thrall said quietly, afraid that his master was listening just outside the cell block.

    "Oh, Lord Blackmoore currently has a great deal on his plate at the moment, and he is in no position to stop you," Krivax seemed to chuckle. "I won't go into details, but he has not been the most law-abiding individual for quite a while. Something that is now catching up with him."

    Thrall didn't know how to react to that information. There did seem to be a lot of muffled shouting beyond the walls though.

    "That… I-I don't have anywhere else to go," he admitted bitterly in lieu of a reaction to the news.

    "Well, no one belongs anywhere. You figure it out as you go along and where you consider home to be. Though I will admit that the Eastern Kingdoms are not the most pleasant place to be an orc right now. I know that you didn't participate in the wars as you've been here your entire life, but people will still greet you with fear and animosity regardless of how unfairly deserved it is," Krivax explained. "I do have a few ideas about where you will be safe and treated with dignity, though."

    Freedom and choice… Thrall had always wondered what it would be like outside of Durnholde Keep, but he'd never imagined that he would be able to actually experience it. A part of him wanted to reject this offer from such a strange creature as a cruel joke by his master, but the rest of him just wanted to find out what would happen if he actually accepted it.

    If what Krivax said was true then he could leave Durnholde Keep and go anywhere, like the places mentioned in the many books he read or that Taretha spoke of…

    "I refuse to go anywhere unless someone comes with me," Thrall took a deep breath and stated with conviction.

    He would not leave Tari behind, especially since his master would react to his absence and could possibly take out his anger on her. Also, he also did not like the attention his master directed toward her as she matured… If she could not gain freedom, neither should he.

    "Oh? And who might that be?" Krivax asked curiously.

    "A servant girl, Taretha Foxton," Thrall said at once. "She is my friend and I refuse to leave her behind to rot here. It would be unjust, and I would rather stay in this cell than leave her trapped in this keep. It is a cage in and of itself, no matter how large."

    Krivax merely stared at him with his many eyes, but he started to chuckle and shake his head in seeming amusement.

    "So young… and yet even I can see it…" he muttered under his breath before he produced a key and swiftly unlocked his cell, opening it up before him. "You got yourself a deal, assuming she agrees of course."

    "Of course," Thrall nodded before turning around and quickly grabbing a few books and his most precious possession.

    "What's that?" Krivax asked in curiosity as Thrall exited the cell.

    Thrall held up the swaddling cloth in his hands, the image of a snarling wolf woven upon it.

    "The only thing that truly belongs to me. I have had it since the mast- since Lord Blackmoore saved me years ago. It is the only connection I have to my past," Thrall admitted.

    And thus started his first day as a free orc with full control over his own fate.



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  • Threadmarks
    • ..Krivax saving/freeing Thrall rather than letting nature takes its course. Dear me, is that really okay..? Thrall wouldn't know the suffering of his people if he's out this early so oof. And then there's Grom Hellscream too though I don't know much about the lore...

    ..ah, well, guess we'll find out later on..
     
    That was a cathartic start, with Malygos finally getting his revenge. Now it just remains to be seen whether or not he can find a new purpose in life. Perhaps he will start to mend once he finds Sindragosa's corpse and gives her a proper burial/farewell?

    And the part where Krivax said "even I can see it" about Thrall? Perfection. Green Jesus really does have one hell of a charisma stat. I'm curious to see what becomes of him in his coming adventures, and where exactly he will go.

    Lastly, below are some typos for your editing pleasure:
    Fizzicks said:
    around, SIr Turalyon, but there
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    SIr - Sir

    Fizzicks said:
    waiting, Archaedasr finally
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Archaedasr - Archaedas

    Fizzicks said:
    Plane in person.The
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    person.The - person. The

    Fizzicks said:
    and his once-might form
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    once-might - once-mighty

    Fizzicks said:
    and proven we fight together as we once did.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    proven we fight together - proven we can fight together
     
    nice chapter thx for writing it
    fun seeing the ending of deathwing and discovery of a msg to all the flights
    wonder if they will pick a dragon for the holder or must it be a black dragon?
     
    Chapter 60
  • Threadmarks
    • In a quiet field east of the city of Hillsbrad when the moons were high and most people were asleep, Krivax looked down at the two children in front of him with exasperation.

    One of them was the destined orc Chosen One, who was also much larger than he had been expecting. The boy was only six years old, yet he was already as tall as an average human and reminded Krivax of a young athlete rather than an adolescent child. Thrall was looking up at him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, which wasn't surprising given the events of the past few days.

    Retrieving Thrall from Lord Blackmoore had been a relatively straightforward affair. Although Blackmoore was a noble, he didn't possess a fraction of the political influence that Krivax or Turalyon did. Once Krivax was able to sense the young orc in the dungeons of Durnholde Keep and inform Turalyon of Thrall's location, everything else was a forgone conclusion. Blackmoore had tried to stop them, but there was very little that he could do to prevent them from just taking the young orc boy.

    Lord Blackmoore could attempt to levy a complaint against them in the Lordraenian House of Nobles, but nobody would risk offending Azjol-Nerub or the Church of the Holy Light for a minor noble engaged in criminal activity. It helped that several of the man's subordinates took the opportunity to accuse Lord Blackmoore of all manner of crimes, especially toward his female servants. As a paladin and noble himself, Turalyon had been absolutely outraged and was currently bringing the matter to the Lordraenian House of Nobles.

    Thankfully, the general hatred toward orcs meant that nobody actually kept an eye on Thrall after he was taken from Blackmoore. That made it easy for Krivax to spirit the young orc away after he was taken to an internment camp.

    Anyone who decided to look into the matter would just find documents marking him as deceased and look no further.

    From there, Krivax intended to simply drop young Thrall off with the Frostwolf Clan hiding in Alterac Valley. This would give the kid a good chance to become acquainted with orc culture and learn his people's shamanistic traditions. Having seen the current state of the internment camps, Krivax did not think it was wise to leave a potential future orc leader in those conditions. Sending him to the Frostwolf clan was the most reasonable solution.

    It should have been rather straightforward, but he hadn't taken into account the young girl who was currently glaring at him with open defiance. Krivax had no idea what happened to Taretha Foxton in the original timeline, but she and Thrall were very much attached to one another in this one. The girl was all of eleven years old and ready to fight anyone trying to take away her little brother.

    Watching a six-foot-tall orc demurely defer to a preteen human girl who barely reached his chest would have been a comical sight if it wasn't giving Krivax such a headache.

    "I understand how you feel, Taretha, but I'm absolutely not going to kidnap an eleven-year-old girl and send her to live with a clan of orcs," Krivax said gently, hiding his astonishment at the utter nonsense coming from the kid's mouth. "The only reason that you are here is that Thrall categorically refused to come with me unless he spoke to you first."

    "Why not?! Thrall needs my help, and we're family!" Taretha argued, her eyes welling with tears but her voice unwavering. "You can't just send him all alone to live with a bunch of orcs! He's never even met one before!"

    "You have parents Taretha. Parents who love you and would be very sad if you disappeared," Krivax said patiently. "The orcs that Thrall is going to live with have settled somewhere very difficult to live. It's no place for a young human girl."

    There was a good reason Alterac Valley had never been settled by anyone other than a clan of sturdy orcs.

    "Daddy is in jail for helping Lord Blackmoore and Mommy thinks all orcs are monsters despite raising and nursing Thrall herself! She doesn't even know how nice he is," Taretha said bitterly as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "I just want to be with my brother!"

    Krivax felt sympathetic toward the girl, but what could he do? There really wasn't any realistic way for Thrall and Taretha to live together without one of them being placed in danger. Krivax patiently explained to Taretha why what she was asking was impossible, even as she cried, pleaded, and even threatened to 'tell on him.'

    He couldn't help but find it amusing that a child was trying to blackmail him, but Krivax made it clear to Taretha that she would be putting Thrall in danger if she told anyone about what he was doing. Krivax figured it was probably just a bluff, as the girl seemed smart enough to know that nobody would believe her anyway.

    Just when the stubborn kid was about to start her next round of arguments and Krivax was starting to feel like he was bullying a little girl, they were both interrupted by the violet light of someone teleporting into the clearing.

    Finally…

    "I apologize for being late, but it took a bit of effort to cover your tracks, Vizier Krivax," said Krasus, scowling mildly in his direction as he approached. The dragon appeared in his elven form to avoid scaring the two children. "It was simple to ensure nobody noticed the girl's disappearance, but your personal guards are more vigilant than I expected. I was forced to craft a rather complex illusion in your sleeping chambers in order to deceive them."

    "Thank you, Archmage Krasus. I appreciate everything that you've done to assist me," Krivax replied genuinely. It was honestly a big relief to be able to ask for a helping hand from people who knew about the things he was trying to change.

    The Archmage waved his hand dismissively. "No need for thanks, Vizier Krivax. My Queen has requested that I aid you in this, so it is my duty to do so. Now, I can see that this young girl has been crying. Taretha, was it? What seems to be the problem?"

    The girl had been silent from the moment that Krasus had teleported into the clearing, but didn't hesitate to share her complaints once prompted while Thrall looked embarrassed about the whole thing. When she was done, Krivax helpfully summarized the issue, with Taretha interjecting occasionally. Krasus listened attentively, a thoughtful expression on his face.

    "I'm afraid that I'll have to agree with Vizier Krivax, young lady. It would be both immoral and irresponsible of us to take you from your parents and send you to live with the Frostwolf Clan," Krasus said firmly yet kindly. Before Taretha could protest, he continued. "However, I believe I have a solution that might satisfy all parties involved. I can arrange for you to study in Dalaran, either as an apprentice mage or as a scholar. So long as Thrall is given a scrying tool, this would give the two of you the opportunity to communicate regularly and maintain your bond, even if you are not physically together."

    Taretha's eyes lit up with hope and she looked to Thrall, who seemed similarly excited by the proposal. "Really? You can do that?" she asked Krasus.

    "Doing this much is simple for someone like me. I doubt your mother will object once I offer to pay for the costs involved," Krasus assured her with a warm smile. "However, you must promise to work hard and not let this opportunity go to waste. Studying in Dalaran is a privilege that not everyone is granted. Do you understand?"

    Taretha nodded vigorously with determination clear in her eyes. "I promise! I promise! I'll work really hard and become a super powerful mage like you. Then I'll be able to see Thrall whenever I want! Did you hear that brother? I'm going to study in Dalaran!"

    Thrall smiled softly and nodded, his eyes glistening with happiness. "I heard, sister. You're going to be an amazing mage."

    Krivax let out a sigh of relief and nodded in gratitude to the Archmage. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was the best one available to them given the circumstances.

    With the matter settled, Krasus offered to return Taretha back to her home via teleportation. After the dragon promised that he would visit the girl's mother in the morning to deliver his offer, Taretha turned to Thrall and hugged him tight with tears in her eyes. Krivax watched as the two siblings said their goodbyes, promising to stay in touch and never forget each other. It was a heartwarming scene, and Krivax hoped that they would one day be able to live in a world that didn't force them to be separated.

    As Krasus disappeared with Taretha in a flash of light, Krivax turned to Thrall, who was wiping tears from his eyes.

    "Are you okay, kid?" Krivax asked gently.

    Thrall took a deep breath and nodded, speaking only once he managed to compose himself. "Yes, I am. I don't know why you and the Archmage are being so nice to me, but I'm really thankful. I know Taretha has always wanted to go somewhere where she could learn, so she will be just as happy as I am. I don't know if I'll ever be able to make it up to you, but I'm going to get strong so I can try, Master Krivax!"

    Feeling a bit uncomfortable being referred to that way by the little child of destiny, Krivax quickly corrected him. "Just call me by my name, kid. Or use Vizier if you need a title. If you want to repay me, then just do your best to learn from your people and become someone kind and honorable."

    Krivax dearly hoped that all the changes he had made would still result in Thrall being the charismatic and fair orc leader he had been in the original timeline. There weren't many good alternatives if someone didn't rise to lead the orcs away from their current path. It felt bad to place that burden on the shoulders of such a nice kid… but the simple truth was that Azeroth needed heroes.

    "I understand, Vizier Krivax. On my honor, I will learn everything I can from the Frostwolf Clan," Thrall said with far more seriousness than a child should be able to muster.

    I sure hope so, kid…

    Krivax and Thrall waited in comfortable silence for the next several minutes until Krasus suddenly reappeared in the clearing, ready to take them to Alterac Valley.

    "Excuse me, but are we going to travel there through magic?" Thrall asked as he fidgeted in place nervously. "I've never teleported before. Does it hurt?"

    "Unfortunately, I lack the ability to teleport to places I have never been to before, so we will have to travel there a different way," said Krasus, an amused smirk growing on his face as he looked at the young orc. "Tell me, Thrall. Were you taught anything about dragons?"

    Thrall frowned in confusion before slowly shaking his head. "I've heard the word 'dragon' before, but I don't know what they are. My teacher didn't get that part in the books yet."

    "Then you're in for a bit of surprise, young one. I happen to be a dragon, which means I should be able to carry both you and Vizier Krivax to meet the Frostwolf Clan," said Archmage Krasus, immediately shedding his mortal guise as soon as he was done speaking.

    Krivax laughed when Thrall scrambled back in fear and tripped over his own feet as he let loose an instinctual roar of challenge at the giant fire-breathing dragon. Archmage Krasus seemed to find it funny as well if his amused chuffs were any indication. Thrall quickly seemed to realize that he wasn't in any danger because he soon calmed down and stared at Krasus with a mixture of awe and embarrassment.

    Krivax made a mental note to remind Thrall of this moment in the future whenever the kid became the most powerful shaman on Azeroth.

    "That was quite the reaction, kid. You don't need to worry though, he isn't going to hurt you," Krivax reassured Thrall, trying to suppress his laughter. "Dragons are powerful beings that often take on mortal forms. In his true form, Archmage Krasus can fly through the sky at incredible speeds, and he's large enough that he shouldn't have any problem carrying the both of us to Alterac Valley."

    Krivax was grateful that Krasus was larger than most dragons as he wouldn't have been able to comfortably carry the two of them otherwise. Nerubian Viziers were already quite large, and he had grown bigger than pretty much all of them after his empowerment. Being nearly fourteen feet tall and having limbs thicker than any in his caste meant that he was quite a bit heavier as well.

    Krasus lowered himself onto the ground so that Krivax and Thrall could climb onto his back more easily. "Hold on tight, young Thrall, and do not worry. I will ensure your journey is as smooth and comfortable as possible," Krasus said, his voice resonating deeply in his dragon form.

    Thrall hesitated for a moment before nodding and climbing onto Krasus' back, gripping his scales tightly. Krivax followed suit, making sure to secure himself and Thrall with a web of silk he conjured. It was better to be safe than sorry when traveling via dragon.

    With a powerful beat of his wings, Krasus lifted off the ground, carrying Krivax and Thrall into the sky. The kid let out a yelp of surprise but quickly settled down when Krivax placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him, his initial fear being replaced by awe as they soared above the Hillsbrad Foothills. He wasn't the only one, as Krivax found himself marveling at the experience as well.

    He had dreamt about getting the chance to fly on the back of a dragon from the moment he'd been reborn on Azeroth, and it was just as exhilarating as he'd expected. The wind rushed past them as Thrall let out a whoop of joy and Krivax admired the landscape beneath them. Much of the land was still scarred by the events of the Second War, especially in the area the Horde made landfall, but the rest carried a great natural beauty. With his recently enhanced vision, Krivax could clearly see the patchwork of farmlands, meadows, and forests that made up the landscape.

    As they flew high and faster, the temperature began to drop, prompting Krivax to create a heating ward around himself and Thrall. He was quite a bit more resistant to the heat after his transformation, but that protection didn't extend to the cold.

    They continued their flight, the landscape changing beneath them as they entered the harsh terrain of the Alterac Mountains. Snow-capped peaks loomed all around, and the air grew even colder as they approached the valley settled by the Frostwolf Clan. It took some time for them to find the right place, but Krasus eventually spotted a fur-clad orc herding a few goats in the distance, signaling that they were close.

    Krivax noticed Thrall shifting nervously when Krasus informed them of what he had seen.

    "Are you alright, Thrall?" Krivax asked, concerned by the young orc's sudden anxiety.

    Thrall looked at Krivax, his eyes wide with uncertainty, "I… I've never met another orc before, Vizier Krivax. I don't know what to expect. What if they don't accept me because I'm too… different?"

    Krivax patted the young orc's shoulder reassuringly. "From what we've been told by orc prisoners, the Frostwolf Clan is the most peaceful of the orc clans and puts a heavy emphasis on family and community. I doubt that they'll turn away a young orc, no matter how different they are."

    Thrall still seemed a bit skeptical, but some of the tension in his expression began to fade away. Satisfied that the kid was reassured, Krivax turned his attention to Krasus, who had been patiently watching their exchange. "I think we're ready for you to announce our presence to the Frostwolf Clan, Archmage Krasus."

    Krasus nodded and turned back toward the valley. Moments later, the dragon inhaled deeply before letting loose a bellowing roar that echoed throughout Alterac Valley. Krivax could see everything from rabbits to the native frost wolves scattering in fright at the sound. But most importantly, the fur-clad orc that they had spotted earlier looked up at them in shock and started running deeper into the valley, presumably toward the main orc encampment.

    "Why did Archmage Krasus do that?" Thrall asked, a bit shaken by the dragon's roar.

    "It was to get the attention of the Frostwolf Clan," Krivax explained. "It would be best if we allowed them to approach us, instead of flying directly into their village. This way, they'll understand that we haven't come to their home with bad intentions. It's always better to avoid a fight if you can find a reasonable alternative, Thrall."

    The young orc nodded with uncertainty, but he seemed to be taking Krivax's words to heart.

    Now that the Frostwolf Clan had been alerted to their presence, Krasus found an empty clearing for them to land and await the arrival of the orcs. It took nearly twenty minutes before Krivax spotted a dozen orcs riding giant white wolves cautiously approaching their position. He could sense even more orcs hiding in the distance, so this group was likely a vanguard meant to assess the situation.

    Once they drew near enough, he could tell that they were being led by a large gray-haired orc whose eyes were covered by a blue blindfold. The blindfold meant that the orc could only be Drek'Thar, leader of the Frostwolf Clan, and the orc who taught Thrall shamanism in the original timeline, and hopefully in this one as well. Despite his age and apparent blindness, the orc still looked quite strong and exuded the presence of a powerful shaman.

    As the group of orcs came to a stop a safe distance away, Drek'Thar gestured for the rest of them to hold their positions. Many of the orcs grew agitated once they spotted Thrall standing next to Krivax, but nobody dared to make a move without their Chieftain's permission. The elder orc directed his mount forward, closing the distance between him and the trio.

    "Well met, strangers," Drek'Thar called out in a deep, resonant voice. "I am Drek'Thar, Chieftain of the Frostwolf Clan. We believed our presence in this valley to be hidden from any outside our clan, yet you called for us in such an… unconventional manner. State your intentions, and why you have brought this young one with you."

    Krivax stepped forward and bowed respectfully toward the old shaman, "Greetings, Chieftain Drek'Thar. I am Vizier Krivax of Azjol-Nerub and this is Archmage Krasus of Dalaran and the Red Dragonflight. We come in peace and seek refuge for this young orc who we've rescued from a human noble. His name is Thrall, and we believe that he would be safer living among his own people."

    The Chieftain's expression remained stoic as he listened to Krivax's words. "You would aid an orc child so soon after the war? That is difficult for me to believe. What is so special about this young orc compared to the many you have imprisoned in camps? Also, how did you learn of us?"

    "This orc didn't participate in the Horde's atrocities. Unlike those imprisoned in the camps, he is innocent," said Krasus, interjecting before Krivax could respond. "As for your clan's location, I spotted you all while flying through these mountains several months ago. So long as you don't harm the people of these lands, I see no reason to inform anyone of your presence."

    Drek'Thar hummed thoughtfully and studied Krasus and Krivax carefully, his gaze seeming to pierce through them despite his lack of sight. After a moment, he let out a sigh and turned his attention to Thrall. "What say you, young one? You have been very quiet. Do you wish to join the Frostwolf Clan?"

    Thrall hesitated for a moment, glancing at Krivax and Krasus before speaking up. "I… I do, Chieftain Drek'Thar. I've never known my people, and I want to learn more about them and where I came from."

    Drek'Thar studied Thrall for a moment before furrowing his brows. "How old are you, child? How did you come to live with humans before the end of the war?"

    "I… don't know. It was always that way," said Thrall.

    "According to what we know, Thrall was found as an infant among the corpses of several other orcs in the northern part of Loch Modan nearly seven years ago, carrying only this," said Krivax, nudging Thrall to show them his swaddling cloth and hoping that it would be enough for Drek'Thar to understand Thrall's true origins.

    The small brown rag was one of the only things that Thrall truly owned and had the emblem of the Frostwolf Clan sewn onto its surface.

    An expression of shock passed through the old shaman's face and he instantly focused on Thrall with an intensity that clearly unnerved the boy. "Nearly seven years… could it truly be? Go'el? Is that you?"

    A furor broke out among the orc warriors at the Chieftain's words, even as Thrall grew visibly confused.

    "Chieftain Drek'Thar, I think Thrall would like an explanation for your reactions," Krivax said diplomatically, trying to calm down the situation before it got out of hand. "Archmage Krasus and I would like one as well."

    Likely guessing that Krivax already knew everything about what was going on as a 'seer,' Krasus snorted in amusement but did nothing else.

    Drek'Thar took a deep breath and nodded. "I apologize. You are correct, outsider. The tale that I am about to tell you is one known to all Frostwolves…"

    Krivax listened as Drek'Thar told the tragic tale of Durotan, the former Chieftain of the Frostwolf Clan, and his wife Draka. He listened as he was told about how Durotan and Draka realized that Fel magic had thoroughly corrupted their people when their son was born with green skin instead of the natural brown they once had. He listened as Drek'Thar spoke with heavy emotion about the moment that the two of them left with their infant son, intending to meet with Orgrim Doomhammer and show him the effect of Fel magic on young Thrall, only to never return.

    It was clear to Krivax that the Frostwolf Clan respected their former Chieftain and his mate a great deal as he watched them step forward and excitedly greet their overwhelmed son. Once it became clear that Thrall was in good hands, Krasus turned to Krivax and created a privacy ward around the two of them.

    "Has this gone as well as you had hoped, seer?" Krasus asked curiously.

    "Yes, I suppose it has," Krivax said after a moment of hesitation, unused to openly talking about his plans. "Taretha was an unexpected factor, but everything else went well. Thank you for the help with that by the way. I don't know how it will change things for the two of them to remain in contact, but I hope it's for the better."

    "As I said, your gratitude is unnecessary. This is simply my duty," said Krasus, glancing toward Thrall with a glimmer of fondness in his eyes. "He seems like a good young orc. I hope he's truly able to lead the orcs to a brighter future as you predicted. Although, I doubt that there will ever be any true reconciliation between them and the other mortal races in this generation."

    Privately, Krivax thought the hope for that was bleak as well, but it wasn't impossible so long as the orcs truly fought to protect Azeroth from the many dangers coming its way. Fighting for survival against existential threats had a way of bringing people together.

    "I'm hoping that the night elves will allow the orcs to be resettled on Kalimdor once they are no longer corrupted by Fel magics. Ysera said that she is going to speak with the night elf leadership about… several important matters, but who knows what will come of it," said Krivax.

    While Krivax wished that the orcs would be able to simply integrate peacefully into the Eastern Kingdoms, he knew that history and logistics made that an incredibly tall order. He didn't know for certain, but there was a good chance that there were even more in the internment camps than in the original timeline. Alexstrasza had perhaps done too good of a job convincing the Horde to surrender through overwhelming force, and the dragons had quickly taken control of the Dark Portal.

    This meant that the war finished earlier than it otherwise would have, and there were fewer orcs who succeeded in fleeing back to Draenor.

    The Eastern Kingdoms couldn't support so many orcs forever without something breaking, and Krivax didn't want to see that happen. The optimal result would be for them to be cured of their corruption and sent somewhere else. Thankfully, Azjol-Nerub had every intention of organizing an expedition to Kalimdor, which Krivax would be participating in as the Head Diplomat. The High King primarily cared about establishing an outpost to monitor Ahn'Qiraj, but Krivax wanted to use this opportunity to get a better understanding of the night elves.

    Ysera was held in high esteem by the night elves and was personal friends with their leadership, but she wasn't their leader. Any decision made by the Kaldorei in regard to orc presence on Kalimdor would be made by Cenarius and High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind.

    Forcing the orcs back to Draenor would be an acceptable alternative, if not for the worry that they would simply reform the Horde and invade Azeroth once again.

    Also, Malygos was wholly convinced that the world must be secretly covered in shapeshifting demons…

    While Krivax could not confirm the hunch based on his metaknowledge, Gul'dan had free rein for years to summon as many demons as he wanted to Draenor under the Burning Legion's guidance.

    "Speaking of future plans, how long will it be until you travel to Draenor?" Krivax asked curiously.

    The Aspects had decided that they would handle anything important related to Draenor, including the evacuation of any non-hostile refugees. That would mostly be the Draenei, but it was possible that other groups had survived the Horde's rampant genocides. Malygos insisted that they not risk any of the Aspects going to Draenor until they better understood the extent of the Burning Legion's presence on the world. So, the duty had fallen to Krasus.

    The Archmages' expression immediately grew serious at his question and his voice was solemn when he answered. "Preparations should be complete within the month. If these 'draenei' truly have the history with the Burning Legion that you foresaw, then bringing them to Azeroth is imperative to Azeroth's future. Any information they might have would be invaluable. Not to mention the benefits if we successfully rescue multiple Naaru of all things."

    Krivax couldn't agree more. There were many things about the Burning Legion and its capabilities that he didn't know, and it was important to verify his metaknowledge with a direct source.

    The two of them continued discussing their plans for the future until the Frostwolf Clan was done greeting their newest member. Krivax was glad to see that Thrall seemed much more comfortable now than when they had first arrived and was even smiling as he conversed with his new family. Drek'Thar approached Krivax and Krasus and offered his thanks for bringing Thrall to them.

    "You have done our clan a great service, outsiders. We had believed that Go'el was lost to us completely when the Chieftain and his mate failed to return. The Frostwolf Clan will repay what you have done for us this day," the elder shaman said earnestly.

    Krivax inclined his head in acknowledgment. "All we ask is that you live in these lands peacefully and avoid conflict to the best of your ability. Also, I hope that you will keep that kid safe and teach him well. He's had a rough life so far. If you do that, then that is more than enough repayment for us."

    Drek'Thar nodded solemnly. "There was a time when I agreed with the Horde, but that time is long past. I regret ever involving myself with what they did on Draenor, and intend to lead my clan down a different path. Go'el is family. He will be treated as such and taught our ways. I haven't spoken to him for long, but I can already sense great potential within him."

    Satisfied with Drek'Thar's assurances, Krivax and Krasus discussed a few more matters with the Chieftain before saying their goodbye to Thrall. As he made his way closer to the Archmage, Krivax took one last look at the smiling young orc who was waving at them enthusiastically.

    "Take care of yourself, Thrall, and remember your promise. I have faith that you'll go on to do great things," Krivax called out.

    With that, Krasus began casting the teleportation spell that would return them to Azjol-Nerub's settlement in Alterac. Krivax needed to return to his sleeping chambers before one of his guards realized that he was gone.

    As he disappeared from Alterac Valley in a flash of light, Krivax couldn't help but wonder what kind of man Thrall would grow into now…







    Malygos was in an irritable mood as he flew away from Wyrmrest Temple. He'd spent far too much time with his siblings recently, and they were beginning to grate on his nerves.

    If Malygos had to pretend not to see Alexstrasza's worried glances one more time, a portion of Wyrmrest Temple would soon need to be rebuilt. Unfortunately, there were several matters that required their collective attention, including the handling of Neltharion's corpse.

    The first few days after the traitor's death had been dedicated to warding a section of the temple in which they could safely store his body. Malygos dearly wished that he lived in a world that didn't contain necromancers or one in which Neltharion's soul was weak enough for him to obliterate. It would make things so much easier.

    As it was, the traitor's body proved incredibly resilient to damage even in death, and nobody wanted to take any risks. Especially not with that troublesome 'Lich King' who the little prophet mentioned arriving on Azeroth in the near future. Any being capable of raising and controlling such a large number of undead was a threat even from the perspective of the Aspects. It would be potentially catastrophic if they allowed the necromancer to gain possession of a corpse as dangerous as Neltharion's.

    Of course, this meant that they had to figure out what to do with all of the countless dragon corpses scattered throughout the Dragonblight. What the Horde did was infuriating enough, but the thought of the Lich King desecrating the final resting place of so many dragons filled Malygos with cold fury.

    These concerns were the reason why Malygos was finally about to do what he had meant to do since he had spoken to the little prophet. He knew that he should have buried Sindragosa the very next day… but the truth of the matter was that Malygos was afraid. Although she was in no state to do so, it still felt as if Sindragosa would open her eyes and see Malygos for the failure he knew himself to be.

    How could he bring himself to face her when it was his fault that the Aspects had imbued their power into the Dragon Soul? When he had failed to see Neltharion's corruption before nearly his entire Flight was cut down in a single moment? When he had spent the past ten millennia doing nothing as the few surviving members of his Flight scattered and struggled to fulfill their duties throughout Azeroth, helpless and alone?

    Malygos could feel the same gloom he'd grown familiar with over the millennia begin to shroud his mind, but he forced himself to move forward. A large part of him wanted to teleport back to his lair and sleep for the next decade, but Sindragosa deserved better than that. She deserved to be buried with the rest of her people.

    Holding these thoughts in mind, Malygos swept toward the region of Northrend that the mortals referred to as Icecrown. It was here that the little prophet claimed he could find Sindragosa, buried beneath the ice of a massive glacier. When he eventually reached Icecrown, Malyos flew through the region for nearly an hour and used his magic to search every large glacier he came across. Blue dragons were intensely magical creatures, and their very bones would remain imbued with arcane energy long after they had passed.

    Many members of his Flight must have been thrown to Icecrown when Neltharion turned the Dragon Soul on them because Malygos discovered a half dozen blue dragon corpses within that time. Vowing to himself that he would return to give them proper burials as well, Malygos solemnly continued his search for Sindragosa. Each new discovery was like a fresh blade to the heart as the Aspect of Magic remembered members of his Flight who he hadn't thought about since the War of the Ancients. The weight of his failures grew stronger with each passing moment, but Malygos resolved to continue until his duty was done.

    Finally, after hours of searching, Malygos found the glacier that the little prophet had mentioned. He could sense Sindragosa's presence deep within the ice, and the familiar pang of loss and guilt washed over him once more.

    Carefully, Malygos wove arcane energy into the ice surrounding her body and took hold of it with a telekinetic grasp. After casting a spell to reinforce the ice encasing Sindragosa, he slowly lifted her upward until she emerged from the glacier with a resounding crack that sent shards of ice flying through the air.

    As he carefully set her down and witnessed what had become of the first person he had ever loved, Malygos couldn't help but let out a raw, anguished cry. Much of her once-majestic form was marred by wounds while the rest had become desiccated and frail over the millennia. Even so, Malygos could still see the fierce and beautiful dragon that she had been in life.

    "Oh, Sindri. You would have hated to see yourself like this," said Malygos, his voice thick with grief as he looked upon her ravaged form. "I… I am so sorry that it took me so long to arrive, my love."

    Sindragosa had always taken great pride in her beauty, as she should have. Whenever they fought and Malygos wished to regain her favor, he would find a beautiful piece of jewelry for her mortal form or a new elixir to enhance the allure of her scales.

    He could remember one occasion when he had tried to create a magical adornment for Sindragosa's horns, one enchanted with a spell that would make them shine with an ethereal glow. However, the enchantment had conflicted with one of her other pieces of jewelry and the spell had gone awry, causing Sindragosa's horns to emit an incessant, high-pitched squeaking noise whenever she moved her head.

    Despite the heaviness in his heart, Malygos couldn't help but let out a small chuckle as he recalled the moment of Sindragosa's majestic demeanor being shattered by the absurd sound. The memory brought forth a bittersweet warmth, a moment of joy that they had shared together amidst their often serious lives.

    It wasn't long before his chuckles began to waver, and Malygos soon found his laughter turning into quiet sobs. Tears flowed down his face, turning into small crystals of arcane magic as they made contact with the ground.

    "My love, I miss you so much. Azeroth is not the same without you," said Malygos, his voice wet and he spoke through his tears. "I truly don't know how I'm supposed to continue without you, Sindri. It was always you who reined in my worst impulses. It was you who confronted me when I was being stubborn or cruel, and now you're gone."

    Malygos had no delusions about what kind of person he was. When the little prophet had told him what he would have done, there hadn't been the slightest doubt within Malygos that he could have gone down that path. He knew that he could be cruel, arrogant, and oftentimes apathetic to the suffering of others.

    But… it hadn't always been that way. There was a time when the worst parts of him could be tempered by those around him, but those people were now gone. They were either killed by Neltharion or pushed away by Malygos himself.

    "If you were to hear what the little prophet saw of our future, you would surely be shocked and appalled, my love," said Malygos, chuckling sadly as he imagined her reaction. "You would castigate me for my foolishness before working with me to create a plan capable of saving this rotten world. The other Aspects and I are trying to do so now, but it would be so much easier if you were here. You were always so good at noticing the things I overlooked."

    Malygos sighed heavily as he considered the world that could have been. One in which he faced the future with Sindragosa and his family by his side.

    "I don't know how I'm supposed to go on without you, my love, but… I'm going to try. My Flight has suffered enough without being forced to see me go mad and turn against Azeroth," Malygos vowed quietly, surprising even himself with the conviction in his voice.

    It had been a long time since Malygos had cared about Azeroth or his duties, but he knew that he couldn't allow the world to fall into further chaos. He owed it to Sindragosa and the rest of his fallen kin to at least make an effort at doing better… being better.




    If you want to read ahead or support me, then feel free to check out my patreon

    Discord is also available if you just want to chat.

    Thanks for reading!
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Fizzicks said:
    Any decision made by the Kaldorei in regard to orc presence on Kalimdor would be made by Cenarius and High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind.
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    I'm REALLY hoping that if /when the Orcs get to Kalimdor, Krivax remembers the main reason they (under Thrall) came to blows with the Elves. They need lumber for homes and rebuilding their civilization. And yet... And yet EVERYONE always seems to forget that the Night Elves know how to grow trees INTO BUILDINGS. Seriously, just get (or hire) some Druids to grow some tree houses, then maybe they could even convert some Orcs to Druidism? It's just such an easy solution yet I've only ever seen it implemented in one dead fic years ago.

    Fizzicks said:
    Satisfied with Drek'Thar's assurances, Krivax and Krasus discussed a few more matters with the Chieftain before saying their goodbye to Thrall.
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    Here's hoping some of those "other matters" include the Alliance's attempt at rehabilitating the Orcs in the hopes of settling them in Kalimdor later. Because if they can avoid a mass jail break scenario, that would be great.

    Fizzicks said:
    and Malygos soon found his laughter turning into quiet sobs.
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    This was a very touching scene. And I can tell you were probably channeling some personal experience here. Because this pretty well captured how I felt after some funerals I've been to. Hopefully Malygos healed a bit from this.
     
    Welp. Narrative tropes tell me that Malygos is now, never gonna be permanently bad. He's regained his moral backbone, and this time its encased in steel, as regained ones almost always are.
     
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    xbox432 said:
    Huh... Thanks for the tip, I'll have to give it a read. The fact someone wrote a fic centering around one of my main gripes with WoW lore is just intriguing. And for anyone else curious it is called "A Savage Nature" by Cambrian over on QQ.
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    It is also on Hentai-Foundry dot Com (not linked because two-click rules), and five chapters ahead on his Patreon.
     
    nice chapter thx for writing it
    fun seeing thrall getting a new home and his sister going to study to be a mage :D
    interesting seeing the blue leader on the road of recovery
     
    Found this fic not long ago and I'm really enjoying it. I've always had a soft spot for Warcraft stories that explore the lesser known or expanded upon races and factions.

    @Fizzicks when Krivax and the others get around to dealing with Ahn'qiraj and C'thun perhaps krivax could suggest trying help the Qiraji with their servitude and corruption to the void. They should have some empathy or understanding for their situation since the Nerubians themselves used to be puppets of the cancerous gods long ago. While the leadership might be beyond salvation the hatchlings and nurseries could be cleansed of void influence.
     
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    I can see why this guy is the one they sent to rescue young children :D. Just look at all those arms he can hug you with!
     
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