Warcraft - (2001) Day Of The Dragon - Book 2 Chapter 21 Part 2

 

halves or chopped into little fragments?”

“Just destroy it in whatever way you can!”

“Simple enough . . .” Raising the ax high, the dwarf took a deep breath—then swung so hard that Rhonin

could see the intense strain in his companion's arm muscles.

The ax struck true—

Fragments of metal went flying.

“By the Aerie! The head! 'Tis completely ruined!”

A great gap in the blade gave proof of theDemon Soul's hard surface. Falstad threw down the ax in

disgust, cursing shoddy orc workmanship.

Rhonin, however, knew that the ax had not been at fault. “This is worse than I would've imagined!”

“Magic must protect it,” Vereesa murmured. “Cannot magic also destroy it?”

“It would have to be something powerful. My magic alone wouldn't do it, but if I had another

talisman—” He recalled the medallion Krasus—or, rather, Korialstrasz— had given Vereesa, but that

had been left behind after the wizard and the red dragon had headed back to the battle. Besides, Rhonin

doubted that it would serve well enough. Better if he had something from Deathwing himself, but that

medallion had been lost in the mountain—

But he still had the stone! The stone created from one of the black dragon's own scales!

“It has to work!” he cried, reaching into his pouch.

“What've you got?” Falstad asked.

“This!” He pulled out the tiny stone, an object which in no manner impressed the other two. “Deathwing

created this from his very being, just as he created theDemon Soulthrough his magic! It may be able to

do what nothing else could!”

As they watched, he brought the stone to the disk. Rhonin debated how best to use it, then decided to

follow the teachings of his craft—try the simple way first.

The black gem seemed to gleam in his grip. The wizard turned it on the sharpest edge he could find.

Rhonin knew very well that his plan might not work, but he had nothing else to try.

With great caution, he ran the stone along the center of the foul talisman.

Deathwing's scale cut into theDemon Soul's hardened gold exterior like a knife through butter.

“Look out!” Vereesa pulled him back just in time, as a plume of sheer light burst from the cut.

Rhonin sensed the intense magical energy escaping from the damaged talisman and knew he had to act

fast, lest it be lost forever to those to whom it truly belonged.

He muttered the spell, adjusting it as he thought needed. The weary mage concentrated hard, not

wanting to risk failure at so critical a juncture. Ithadto work.

A fantastic, glittering rainbow rose higher and higher, flying up into the heavens. Rhonin repeated his

spell, emphasizing as best he could what he wanted as results. . . .

The nearly blinding plume, now hundreds of feet in height, twisted around—heading in the direction of

the battling dragons.

“Did you do it?” the ranger breathlessly asked.

Rhonin stared at the distant forms of Alexstrasza, Deathwing, and the others. “I think so—Ihopeso. . . .”

“Have you not been through enough? Will you continue to fight what you cannot defeat?” Deathwing

eyed his foes with utter contempt. What little respect had remained for them had long ago died away.

The fools continued to bang their heads against the proverbial wall, even though they knew that, together,

their power still lacked.

“You have caused too much misery, too much horror, Deathwing,” Alexstrasza retorted. “Not just to us,

but to the mortal creatures of this world!”

“What are they to me—or, for that matter, even you? I will never understand that!”

She shook her head in what he realized could be pity— forhim? “No . . . you never will. . . .”

“I have toyed enough with you—all of you! I should have destroyed you four years ago!”

“But you could not! Creating theDemon Soulweakened even you for quite some time. . . .”

He snorted. “But now I have recovered my full strength! My plans for this world advance rapidly . . .

and after I have slain all of you, I shall takeyoureggs, Alexstrasza, and create my perfect world!”

In response, the crimson dragon attacked again. Deathwing laughed, knowing that her spells would

affect him no better than they had before. Between his own power and the enchanted plates grafted to his

skin,

nothingcould hurt him—

“Aaargh!!” The fury of her magical attack tore at him with a force he could not have imagined. His

adamantium plates did little to lessen the horrific impact. Deathwing immediately countered with a

powerful shield, but the damage had been done. His entire body ached from pain such as he had not

known in many centuries.

“What—have you—done tome?”

At first Alexstrasza looked surprised herself, but then a knowing—and triumphant—smile crossed her

draconic features. “The bare beginnings of what I have these past years dreamed of doing, foul one!”

She looked larger, stronger. In fact, all four of them looked that way. A sensation coursed through the

black dragon, the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong with his perfect plan.

“Can you feel it? Can you feel it?” Malygos babbled. “I am me again! What a glorious thing!”

“And it'sss about time!” returned Nozdormu, gemstone eyes uncommonly bright and gleaming. “Yesss,

ssso very much about time!”

Ysera opened her arresting eyes, this timesoarresting that it was all Deathwing could do to pull his gaze

from them. “It is the end of the nightmare,” she whispered. “Our dream has become truth!”

Alexstrasza nodded. “What was lost has been returned to us. TheDemon Soul. . . theDemon Soulisno

more.”

“Impossible!” the metallic behemoth roared. “Lies! Lies!”

“No,” corrected the crimson figure. “The only lie left to disprove now is that you are invincible.”

“Yesss,” snapped Nozdormu. “I look forward to disssproving that ridiculousss fallacy. . . .”

And Deathwing found himself under attack by four elemental forces the likes of which he had never

faced. No longer did he fight mere shadows of his rivals, but a quartet, each his equal—and he no match

for all together.

Malygos brought the very clouds to him, clouds with suffocating holds around the black dragon's jaws

and nostrils. Nozdormu turned time forward for Deathwing alone, sapping his adversary of strength by

forcing Deathwing to suffer weeks, months, then years without rest. His defenses already crippled by

these assaults, Ysera had no trouble invading his mind, turning the armored behemoth's thoughts to his

worst nightmares.

Only then did Alexstrasza rise before him, the terrible nemesis. She gazed at Deathwing, still in part with

pity, and said, “Life is my Aspect, dark one, and I, like all mothers, know both the pain and wonder that

entails! For the past several years, I have watched my children be raised as instruments of war,

slaughtered if they proved insufficient or too willful! I have lived knowing that so many died that I could

do nothing for!”

“Your words mean nothing to me,” Deathwing roared as he futilely struggled to shrug off the others'

horrific assaults.“Nothing!”

“No, they likely do not . . . which is why I shall let you experience firsthand all that I have suffered. . . .”

And she did just that. Against any other attack, even the nightmares of Ysera, Deathwing could summon

some defense, but against Alexstrasza's he had no weapon upon which to draw. She attacked with pain,

butherpain. She dealt not with agony as he knew it, but with that of a loving mother who suffered with

each child torn from her, with each child turned into something terrible.

With each child who perished.

“You will go through all I have gone through, dark one. Let us see if you fare any better than I did.”

But Deathwing had no experience in such suffering. It tore at him where the pain of vicious talons or

ripping teeth could not, for it tore at him in his very being.

The most terrible of dragons screamed as none had ever heard a dragon scream before.

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