The Demon Soul (22 page)

Krasus’s face stretched. His nose and mouth became one, growing into a savage maw. His hair solidified, turning into a scaled crest that ran down the length of his back all the way to the tip of the tail that had formed at the same time as the wings.

And as crimson scales covered every inch of the other’s body, Malfurion blurted the name by which all knew such huge, fearsome leviathans.

“Dragon!”

Then, as quickly as the incredible image had appeared before him it now vanished. Malfurion shook his head and eyed the figure before him.

“Yes, Malfurion Stormrage, I am a dragon. A red dragon, to be precise. Long have I worn the form of one mortal creature or another, however, for it has been my choice to walk among you, teaching and learning as I strive for peace among all of us.”

“A dragon…” Malfurion shook his head. It explained so much in retrospect…and raised many more questions in turn.

“Among those in the host, only Rhonin fully knows who and what I am, although the orc may understand and the sisterhood likely has its suspicions.”

“Are humans allied to dragons?”

“Nay! But in my guise as you see me, Rhonin was my student, an exceptional mage even for one of his versatile race! I trust him in some ways more than I do many of my own people.”

As if to emphasize that fact, Krasus—Malfurion could not yet accept terming him a dragon—slapped one hand against the invisible barrier. “And this only adds credence to why that is so. This should not be here.”

“A dragon…but why didn’t you transform in order to fly here? Why have me summon the hippogriffs?” More curious incidents occurred to the night elf. “You could’ve been slain more than once, including when last we fought the demons!”

“Some things must remain hidden, Malfurion, but I tell you this much; I do not transform because I cannot. That ability has been stripped from me for the time being.”

“I…I see.”

Krasus turned his gaze back to the concealed wall, again seeking some entrance through it. “You perceive why I felt so certain that I would be able to confront the dragons. They will listen to one of their own. They will also tell one of their own why they are acting so mysteriously.” He hissed savagely, startling the night elf. “If I can contact them first.”

“Who would do this?”

It almost appeared that Krasus intended to answer, but then he clamped his mouth tight. After several seconds of obvious inner turmoil, he glumly responded, “It does not matter. What does is that I have failed. The one hope I had for ensuring the outcome of the war is beyond my reach.”

There was much that the dragon mage had not told Malfurion, and the night elf knew it. However, the druid also respected Krasus enough not to pursue the matter any further. All Malfurion wanted to do now was help, especially with his new understanding of the situation. If Krasus could convince his kind to join with the defenders, then surely that would spell a quick end to the Burning Legion.

But their spells could not open the wall, and neither of the two could simply walk through it like a ghost or—

Swallowing hard, the druid said, “I may know of a way through, at least for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I-I could walk the Emerald Dream.”

The mage’s visage darkened, then grew thoughtful. Malfurion wanted him to reject the idea out of hand, but instead Krasus nodded. “Yes…yes, that may be the one way.”

“But will it help? I don’t even know whether or not they’ll be able to hear or see me…and if they do, will they listen?”

“One may be able to do all. You must seek her specifically. Her name is Ysera.”

Ysera. Cenarius had spoken her name when offering to teach his student how to walk the dream realm. Ysera was one of the five great Aspects. She ruled the Emerald Dream. Certainly, Ysera would be able to both hear and see the druid’s spirit form…but would she bother to listen to his words?

Reading the night elf ’s obvious reluctance, Krasus added, “If you can convince her to bring you to the attention of Alexstrasza, the red dragon, then perhaps she, in turn, can question Korialstrasz, who knows us both. Alexstrasza will listen to him.”

From the way the inflection of his voice changed whenever he spoke the other name, Malfurion understood that this other dragon was very, very important to Krasus on a personal level. He knew of Alexstrasza as another of the Aspects and wondered how Krasus could speak of her so easily. His companion was more than simply a dragon who spied on the younger races; he held some status among even his own kind.

The knowledge strengthened Malfurion. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Should Ysera show reluctance,” Krasus further advised, “it would be good to mention Cenarius to her. More than once, if necessary.”

Not certain why that should make a difference but trusting to Krasus’s wisdom, the night elf nodded, then sat down right where he was. Krasus watched him in silence as he positioned his body. Satisfied with the arrangement, Malfurion shut his eyes and focused.

At first he meditated, calming his body. As he relaxed, the night elf felt the first hints of slumber touch him. He welcomed them, encouraged them. More and more, the mortal world retreated from the druid. Peace draped over Malfurion like a blanket. He knew that Krasus watched over him, so there was no fear of letting go. The mage would protect his defenseless form.

And before he knew it, Malfurion slept. Yet, at the same time, he felt more awake than ever. The night elf concentrated now on departing from the mortal plane. He did as Cenarius had bid him, working to separate his spirit from his body.

It proved so simple to do both that and locate the way into the Emerald Dream that Malfurion felt ashamed about his earlier hesitation. So long as he remained fixed on his quest, surely it would be safe to traverse the other realm.

A hint of green immediately shaded everything. Krasus faded away as Malfurion’s surroundings changed. The mountainous region looked surprisingly similar in both dimensions, but the peaks in the Emerald Dream were sharper, less weathered. Here was how they appeared when the creators had first raised them up from the primal soil. Despite the urgency of his mission, Malfurion paused to admire the celestials’ handiwork. The sheer majesty of all he saw astounded him.

But nothing would remain in the true world if the Burning Legion was not stopped, and so the druid finally moved on. He reached out to the barrier, expecting resistance, yet nothing slowed his hand. Sure enough, in the Emerald Dream, the spell did not exist. The dragons expected any intruders to be of the more earthly kind and, therefore, subject to the world’s natural laws.

Drifting on past where the wall had been, Malfurion headed toward the tallest peaks in the distance. Prior to his collision with the barrier, Krasus had indicated them as where his kind could be found. Since the elder mage had said nothing contrary before the druid had acted, Malfurion took it for granted that he should continue on in that direction.

He flew over the silent land, the huge mountains making him feel most insignificant. The green hue coloring everything, coupled with the lack of any animal life, added to the surreal feel of his surroundings.

As he neared what he believed his destination, Malfurion concentrated. The green coloring faded somewhat, and he began to notice details of weathering. The druid’s spirit still “walked” the Emerald Dream, but he now saw into the present-day world as well.

And his first view was that of the overwhelming, ferocious countenance of a crimson dragon.

Startled, Malfurion pulled back. He expected the behemoth’s head to dart forward and snap him up, but the sentinel continued to stare through him. It took the druid a few seconds to realize that the dragon could not see him.

The presence of the guardian, who perched atop a high, pointed peak, verified that the night elf had to be near where the dragons gathered. However, Malfurion did not feel he had the time to go searching one mountain after another for their location. Instead, he thought of what he knew. Ysera was mistress of the Emerald Dream. This near to her, surely she would hear his mental summons.

Whether Ysera would answer, however, was another question.

Knowing he could only try, the druid faded back into the Emerald Dream and imagined the green dragon. He knew that his perception of her was far from fact, but it gave his thoughts something upon which to concentrate.

Ysera, mistress of the dream land, great Aspect, I humbly seek communion with you…I bring the word of one who knows She Who Is Life, your sister, Alexstrasza…

Malfurion waited. When it became clear that he would not be receiving an answer, he tried again.

Ysera, She of the Dreaming, in the name of Cenarius, Lord of the Wood, I ask this boon of you. I call upon you to—

He broke off as he sensed the sudden presence of another. The druid twisted his head to the right and beheld a thin female of his race, clad in a translucent robe that fluttered even though there was no wind. The hood of the robe covered all but her face, a beautiful yet calm face whose only offsetting feature was the eyes…or rather, the closed lids that covered them.

The figure might have looked like a night elf, but in addition to the bright emerald hair she had—more arresting than the green of any true night elf—her skin, garments…all were tinted one shade or another of the same color.

There could be no doubt that this was Ysera.

“I have come,” she responded, quiet but firm, her eyes never opening, “if only to put an end to your shouting. Your thoughts reverberated through my mind like an unceasing drumbeat.”

Malfurion sought to kneel. “My lady—”

She waved a slim hand. “I need not be flattered by such gestures. You have called. I have come. Have your say and be-gone.”

His success still amazed the night elf. Here, in this other form, stood one of the great Aspects. That she had deigned to respond, he could scarcely believe. “Forgive me. I would never seek to disturb you—”

“And yet, here you are.”

“I’ve come with one who knows of you well—a dragon called Krasus.”

“His name is known, even if his mind is suspect. What of him?”

“He seeks an audience with Alexstrasza. He can’t break through the barrier that surrounds this place.”

As he spoke, Malfurion had to focus hard on the Aspect. Ysera constantly shimmered in and out, almost as if she were a figment of his imagination. Her expression did not change, save that beneath the eyelids there was constant movement. That she saw, Malfurion did not doubt, but how she did made him most curious.

“The barrier has been set because the planning we do is of the most delicate nature,” spoke the Aspect. “No word of what we do must be revealed until the time is ripe…so says the Earth Warder.”

“But he must enter—”

“And he will not. I have no say over the matter. Is that all?”

Malfurion mulled over Krasus’s words. “Then, if he can speak to Alexstrasza through you…”

Ysera laughed, such a startling shift that the night elf stood as if stricken. “You are audacious, mortal creature! I am to be your conduit as he interrupts my sister during a most pressing time! Is there anything else you would like while you are asking?”

“By my shan’do, Cenarius, this is all I seek, and I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t necessary.”

A peculiar thing happened when he mentioned the demigod by name. Ysera’s image grew especially hazy, and the eyes beneath her lids seemed to look down. The reaction, although very brief, was so very noticeable.

“I see no reason to continue this irritation. Return to your companion, night elf, and—”

“Please, mistress of the Emerald Dream! Cenarius will vouch for me. He—”

“There is no reason to bring him up!” she suddenly snapped. For just the briefest of moments, Ysera almost looked ready to open her eyes. Her expression had become one that Malfurion recognized all too well from his childhood. Earlier, he had thought that Cenarius and Ysera had been lovers. But that was not the case, from what he could read in her expression.

Ysera—She of the Dreaming, one of the five great Aspects—had reacted to the demigod’s name as might a loving mother.

Somewhat ashamed, the druid retreated from her. Ysera, clearly caught up in some memory, paid him no mind. For the first time since he had met Krasus, Malfurion was angry with him. This was ill knowledge and his companion should have known that.

He started to depart the dream realm, but Ysera turned her sightless gaze toward him and suddenly announced, “I will be the bridge you need to reach Alexstrasza.”