Thrall - Christie Golden [106]
“But how would you aid us, Thrall?” asked Alexstrasza. “You cannot fight alongside us.”
“I sssay again, Life-Binder, this is not about individual acts in battle,” Nozdormu said. “This is about combining our essences. Obviously Thrall cannot attack with us. But he can possibly offer us with his ssspirit what another Aspect could. I tell you truly, there is no hope otherwise. None. Each Aspect alone will fall, and it will be the end, first of the dragonflights, and then of Azeroth. I … have seen that end.”
So had Ysera, who had told them of it. Nozdormu’s voice was heavy and somber, and Thrall felt a shiver run down his spine.
Yet, strangely, Thrall did not second-guess his impulse. It felt right in his heart in a way he could not properly describe. It seemed ages ago that he had been so distracted and unfocused that he had faltered during the Earthen Ring’s effort to calm the distraught elements. He knew, without knowing how he knew, that now he could hold in himself the peace, the solidity, to do what he needed to. His strengthened connection with the Spirit of Life made working with all the elements easier—even more joyful. The earth held life; it nourished the seeds and the roots that animals in turn fed upon. The Spirit of Earth and the Spirit of Life would welcome him back now; they would trust him to hold and gently direct and contain the Spirit of Earth, even while working with four Dragon Aspects. The earth was enormous; its spirit was great; and in his humility to accept that, Thrall knew he could, conversely, succeed with it.
“Let me try, at least,” he said.
“My flight has done what we once thought impossible,” Kalecgos said. “We have chosen a new Aspect. From what I have seen, in Thrall, in Chromatus, in my own flight, I believe this has a chance of working. I say, let us attempt it.”
“Yes,” said Ysera at once. “Thrall still has a role to play here. The puzzle pieces have not quite fit exactly in my head.”
Alexstrasza regarded him kindly. “You have helped me open my heart when I thought it shattered beyond repair. If you think you can do this thing, then I, too, am more than willing to try. But please … let us hurry!”
“It is an old and formal ritual,” Thrall said. He slipped off from Torastrasza’s broad back. “I will go as quickly as I may. If the four of you could take your humanoid forms?”
Quickly they responded. Thrall looked at the high elven, half-elven, and night elven faces. Three he had already seen in these forms, but not Nozdormu, whose appearance was much different. The others had all selected shapes of beauty and physical grace, some opting to keep their horns, some not. Not so with the Timeless One. While he had a slender but strong, somewhat elven body, sand seemed to be drifting off it in a gentle fall. He wore simple white linen, and while he kept his golden horns and his eyes remained large, brilliant, and gemlike, his face was that of an owl—wise and calm.
“I have participated in circles similar to this,” Thrall began, focusing now on the approaching ritual and not Nozdormu’s startling appearance. “But never with such powerful participants.”
“We trust you,” said the Life-Binder, and she smiled. Thrall found himself deeply moved. He thought of Aggra, and smiled a little to himself. She certainly could not accuse him of lacking humility in his heart at this particular moment.
“I will cast the circle and acknowledge the elements,” he said. “It sounds as if our task is to open to one another. Your hearts and minds, everything that makes you you—and makes you an Aspect. This is not a time for secrets, or even self-protection. I am honored you trust me. But you must also trust yourselves, and each other. Take one another’s hands, to strengthen that connection. Are you ready?”
They looked at one another and nodded, doing as he requested. Thrall took a deep breath, in through the nose, out through