Thrall Twilight of the Aspects (32 page)

“I will tell you all I know, and hope that something I say can help you,” she told them. “There is much that … to be honest, does not give me cause for hope.”

“You escaped, which should have been nearly impossible,” Kalecgos said. “I, for one, find great hope in that fact.”

She tried to smile, but something deeply worried her. “I thank you for that, but … well, you will understand what I mean.”

“Start at the beginning,” Alexstrasza said. “How were you captured?”

“After the loss of Jarygos … my mate … Arygos tricked me into accompanying him. He turned me over to the human—for I know he is human—known as the Twilight Father. The Twilight Father and Arygos were working with the twilight dragonflight—and with Deathwing.”

The three Aspects exchanged glances. “The first attack,” Alexstrasza said, “the one who taunted us—he named himself the Twilight Father.”

“Go on, dear one,” said Ysera gently.

“They kept me imprisoned in my dragon form until my eggs were safely laid, then they put that chain on me.” Kiry winced, recalling it.

“Easier to control you in human form,” said Kalec. “I know.”

She nodded. “They began experiments—on me, on my children …” Her voice caught for a moment. Alexstrasza laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Kiry gave her a faint smile and continued.

“That, Life-Binder, was what Korialstrasz stumbled upon. They had improved the odds of creating healthy chromatic dragons by experimenting on my children. It seems that, as I am a child of Malygos, my children are stronger. Korialstrasz dealt them a serious blow by eliminating their prospective army. Another blow was dealt when Arygos failed to become the Aspect. He had promised to deliver all of the blue flight into the Twilight Father’s hands.”

“We will never know if Arygos was sane when he made that bargain,” said Kalec with quiet fury. “But, for the sake of his memory, let us hope he was not.”

Kirygosa nodded, composing herself with a visible effort. “He was certainly devoted to the cult, but beyond that, I cannot say.”

“What he did to you—”

“It is done, and over,” she said, and Thrall realized that she was trying to reassure Kalecgos, even after all she had endured. She was unspeakably brave.

“So two blows were dealt to their plans. But they still had Chromatus.” Her voice broke, and she struggled visibly to regain her composure.

“I don’t know where they found him. The cultists brought him all the way to Northrend, knowing that they needed vast stores of arcane energy to give him the spark of life. And for that, they needed a surge needle created from the blood of a child of Malygos.”

“Then—forgive me,” said Thrall, “but … why did they not use your blood for that purpose sooner?”

“I believe they wanted to wait until Arygos brought them the blues,” she said. “Think of what a sight that would have made:
Chromatus would have first been beheld by his enemies at full strength, at the forefront of a vast dragon army. I do not think the Twilight Father originally intended to kill Arygos. But when my brother failed, the Twilight Father made sure he still had a use. He made sure I did, too. I escaped before they tried to—to
breed
me to that
thing
.”

Thrall was appalled. The two female Aspects looked ill, and Thrall realized that if the Twilight Father were to suddenly appear right now, Kalec would likely cheerfully have ripped him apart. And Thrall would have joined in.

“It could have worked, too,” Kiry continued. “I could have been the mother of an entire new flight of abominations. Chromatus was the final experiment of Nefarian—who, as I have learned, also lives. After a fashion. He has been reanimated, but not brought to life as Chromatus has been.”

“Nefarian is an undead atrocity, then.” While Kirygosa had spoken, other dragons had drawn close to listen, and now a large red moved his massive frame to stand protectively over Alexstrasza and Kirygosa—both with hearts and spirits terribly wounded, and yet both so strong. The red continued: “Is he here as well?”

Kiry shook her head. “No, I think Deathwing has other plans for him. Chromatus will be enough. Kalec—you surprised him last time. He was but newly born. And even so …” Her voice trailed off.

“Even so, my entire flight was defeated,” Kalec finished for her.

“You do not stand alone now, Kalecgos,” Alexstrasza reassured him. “Three full flights stand together. He may have been able to defeat one flight, but three? Long has it been since we fought so, and I do not think, monstrous as he is, one single dragon can stand against all of us!”

Kirygosa seemed agitated at the words and grasped Alexstrasza’s
hand. “Life-Binder,” she said, “He—he was made … for you.” She looked at Kalec and Ysera as well. “All of you. He is more than just an exceptionally powerful chromatic dragon. He was brought to life with a specific purpose: to destroy the Aspects!”

Thrall opened his mouth in an automatic denial, then closed it. He had seen Chromatus. He saw what the monster could do. At full health, with the abilities of each flight his own—

“So it is true,” said Ysera, looking stricken. “My vision is true.”

Alexstrasza reached out her other hand to Ysera. “Speak, Sister,” she implored.

“I had hoped … I was wrong. …” Ysera closed her eyes and spoke in a dreamy, singsong voice. It was not a spell, not in the truest sense of the word, but the scene she described had an enchantment all its own. Thrall could almost see what she spoke of in his own mind: the death of all things, save the twilight dragonflight. No plants, no beasts, no beings, no living thing at all drew breath save them. And each of the Aspects lay dead and stiffening.

Even the darkest, cruelest one of all. The one who had helped make the monster that brought it about.

Deathwing.

Thrall trembled and felt cold sweat trickling over his skin. Panic threatened to seize his throat. Others around him lifted their voices in fear, in anger, in grim acceptance, but one voice rang out clearly.

“It is not our doom!”

The voice belonged to the Life-Binder. She stood, still in her humanoid form, still holding the hands of her sister and the traumatized Kirygosa. Her face was bright with resolve and passion. “We have already seen that we have disrupted this grandiose plan of Deathwing’s. Arygos’s failure. Kiry’s escape. The blues attacking Chromatus before he was fully ready. No, this is not set in stone. Ysera’s visions always have meaning, yes. But dreams always rely
on interpretation. Sister—could this be a warning as to what might happen if we do not fight?”

Ysera cocked her horned head. “Yes,” she said. “Only Nozdormu knows what will truly be. I only share what I saw.”

“Then let us resolve now,” Alexstrasza said, “that we will set to this fight with all we have. Every blue, every green, every red dragon—know that you fight not only for your lives but for
all
life. All things. We will take on this so-called Aspect slayer, and we will show the Twilight Father and Deathwing himself that we will not be cowed. No matter what we have lost—or stand to lose—the thing we will
not
lose is our world. Chromatus will fall!”

And the hope that Thrall felt swell about him was so real, so sincere, he could taste it, and he lifted his own orcish voice in the cry of determination and will that filled the air.

D
espite her ordeal, Kirygosa was more than eager—and able—to help plan the attack. Thrall noticed that even those who had once supported Arygos gravitated to her. The process of winning the heart and soul of the blues, begun with Kalec and his joyous ascent to Aspect in the light of two moons, was cemented by bearing witness to Kirygosa’s calm courage.

The three Aspects, Thrall, Kirygosa, and a few representatives from each flight, all in humanoid forms, gathered together to begin strategizing in earnest. All present knew the layout of Wyrmrest Temple, and Kirygosa was able to tell them exactly what was now where. Here was where Chromatus rested and recovered—“More with each passing hour,” she warned them darkly. There was where the Twilight Father spent most of his time. All beasts of burden and mounts were in another area, and she was able to give a solid approximation of the number of cultists and dragons the three flights were likely to encounter.

“Are there any weaknesses we can exploit?” asked the red dragon Torastrasza.

“The Twilight Father is human,” Kirygosa replied. “He is older,
with a weathered face and a gray beard, and he is extremely arrogant. I know that he is powerful in his own right, and that those he leads know nothing about his true loyalties.”

“He is a leader?” asked Thrall. “A military commander, perhaps?”

“He does strike me as a military man,” Kirygosa said, “but I admit I know little about humans. One thing I do know: he fears Deathwing.”

“As all sane beings should,” murmured Ysera, and she ducked her head in sorrow.

“It may make him overconfident,” mused Torastrasza. “He may make foolish errors.”

“I am not certain that any amount of overconfidence will be detrimental to him with such an ally as Chromatus,” said Thrall. “You did not witness the battle against the blues. We now have greater numbers and different methods of attacking. But we should not underestimate him.”

“Too, the cultists will gladly die for him,” said Kirygosa. “They will fight until they are slain.”

“Is the Twilight Father relying solely on Chromatus and the twilight dragons, or is there other weaponry?” asked Alexstrasza.

“They do not have any truly devastating weapons for ground or air combat,” Kirygosa said. “But I do not know that they will need them. They have an entire flight, and Chromatus with all his heads—each one with a brain that knows all the skills of its flight.”

Everyone fell silent at that simple but powerful observation.

“It seems we know our foe,” said Alexstrasza at last. “Kiry, is Chromatus under the Twilight Father’s control in any way?”

The blue dragon shook her head. “No, he is his own self. He is very dear to Deathwing, who has great pride—and great plans—for him.”

“Then we three Aspects will take him as our primary target,”
said Alexstrasza. “Whatever else they may send at us, we need to concentrate all our efforts on him. The rest of our flights need to keep us from being distracted by other attacks. If he is so prized by Deathwing, his death will be more than a tactical victory. We can always retreat and return later to deal with the Twilight Father and the cultists. But Chromatus
must
die.”

All the assembled dragons nodded in agreement, as did Thrall.

Chromatus must indeed die. Or else the cultists, whose focus was the end of everything, might see their goal realized all too soon.

The Twilight Father had instructed that the bodies of Zuuzuu and Josah be unceremoniously removed, and had ordered all of the cultists to submit to a beating. They had done so with perfect obedience, of course, and he had taken rather petty solace in their cries of pain.

How could they have let this happen? Kirygosa was a single being, only as strong as a human in that form. She shouldn’t have been able to overpower even one of them, let alone both. And who had been so stupid as to not be watching the wyverns? No one had admitted to such an egregious lack of observation.

“We have lost our chance to breed the future,” Chromatus growled when the Twilight Father had come to give him the bad news. “And if she survives, she can reveal information that could possibly harm us.”

The thought had already occurred to the Twilight Father. With a confidence he did not feel, he said, “What can she tell them? They know we are here; they already know about you. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. She knows that you were weak at the time they attacked, and yet you utterly defeated them. I think the news
she brings them—if she survives—will only discourage them. And when we win, if she survives, you will still be able to father an entire flight of chromatic dragons.”

Chromatus eyed the smaller figure. “That is possible. But any strategic advantage we give them is to be deplored. I am sure Deathwing will be most unhappy to hear of this.”

To that comment, the Twilight Father had no response.

They came at dusk.

The already darkening sky was made black with their approach, and the sound of hundreds of beating wings vibrated through the air as the foolish dragonflights drew closer.

The Twilight Father was excited. Surely Chromatus’s rumbled words of warning were overly conservative. In the rays of the dying sun, he could count three colors of dragons bearing down upon the temple. So, the bronzes were still hanging back, their leader nowhere in sight. Even better.

There was an answering beat of wings as his own army of twilight dragons lifted into the sky. Behind them, flying almost lazily, was Chromatus.

The Twilight Father could not suppress a grin. Let them come. Let them come to their destruction. Chromatus would vanquish them, and the Twilight Father would report the deaths of no fewer than three Aspects this night.